Well, That Was Exciting

Went home yesterday with a cold coming on. Told the boss and emailed the team I would work from home today.

Home, crashed, had something resembling dinner.  Checked email, FB. Grabbed a few Scottish toffees and went to bed at about 10:30. Could not get to sleep. Kaan decided the area just south of the pillows in the center was his. That's where I usually roll over, but that didn't move him.

At about 3 am I got up and took the last of the liquid Nyquil. Was about to shoot up some Afrin when I remembered hsifyppah's rant and checked the expiration date. Last August. Tossed it. Took up the Nasarel (prescription sub for Afrin) but the expiration was not on the bottle, it must have been on the box it had come in. Years ago. Tossed that. Settled for a Breathe-Rite strip.

4 am or so, woke up, popped a toffee into my mouth, laid back down again. Toffee glided into my esophagus.  It had not yet dissolved enough to do that, and was lodged in there.

Panic.

Fridge, squirted seltzer into a glass, and started drinking. It helped move the toffee down a little, but not enough.

Brain engaged.

Microwaved a coffee cup of water. Added chicken bullion. Sat in the recliner and sipped it. Waited for it to cool down and sipped it again. Much better. One more cup of water, this time with mint tea & honey. That did the trick while I watched a Tivoed episode of Undercover Boss. Fatburger CEO. Portland, OR shyster who scammed his way at 32 years old into a $140 million real estate mogul. Andy Wiederhorn.  In the program he repeatedly says he spent 14 months in jail, but the records say 12. He is so transparent that the first Fatburger he went to the staff recognized him despite his not-gray wig, mustache and glasses. While he was generous with gifts at the end of the show to some employees, it was wildly inconsistent, and showed some prejudice. But I digress.

Back to bed at abut 5:30, turned on he fire/police scanner and was surprised how much traffic there was. Shut it off.

Fitfull sleep, finally up at about 9:30.

Country Music & Me

I was raised in Suburban NYC (Lawn Guyland) where the accepted musical forms were rock, pop, folk, easy listening, classical, showtunes, and your religion's liturgical music. Country Music was an oxymoron. Or just a moron.

We moved to Seattle, and despite the fact that the nearest cowboy was on the other side of the mountains, there were two or three country music stations on the radio. Pop stations occasionally played "cross-over" tunes. I ignored them, shunning them as music for people who dropped out of 4th grade to pursue a life in the rodeo.

Even when I worked in rural Oregon and Washington where I covered rodeos and took the mug shots of the rodeo queens, and most of the "music" on the radio was country, I detested it.

And then I heard, as I was channel surfing, an announcer introduce a song which he claimed was called "Work Your Fingers To The Bone, And What Do You Get? Bony Fingers" which was then played live for the studio audience. I can't remember when or where that was, but ever since, my attitude changed. There were people in country music with the same warped sense of humor as me.

One thing led to another, and I sought out country novelty songs. And then that leaked into finding singers I enjoyed. Reba MacEntire sings in my key (an octave higher). So does Anne Murray. And Dolly Parton. Which brings me to a little twist - the first time I heard "I Will Always Love You", it was Dolly on the soundtrack of The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Her version still makes me all misty-eyes, and when Whitney hijacked and completely eviscerated it, I was livid. That was after I discovered Dolly did not only sing it, she wrote it. She wrote the whole musical. I'm impressed.

Then there was the country which I didn't know was country. In 1973 I was in You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown at the Astoria, OR community theater, and to pass the time during gaps in the rehearsals, the guy who played Schroeder taught us a bunch of John Prine songs.  "Grandpa Was A Carpenter", "4-Way Stop Dilemma", "Dear Abby" and my favorite "Please Don't Bury Me". Somehow a song taught you you by Schroeder doesn't click as country. I learned "Illegal Smile" as a protest song in college.

And then there's Jimmy Buffet, who has come up a lot of clever lyrics and catchy tunes. One could argue that his music isn't really country, so I will. :-)

What got me going on this topic is I was in the car yesterday in a Dayquil haze, and the clever lyrics of a particular country song got me to thinking about a Facebook meme: