I’m Rednecker Than You

We leave Arizona before eggs can fry on sidewalks around this time every year. A lot of the other Snow Birds (as we are called) go to finer weather but we go to Oklahoma where it is an actual fact that the wind comes sweeping down the plains (and the hail and tornadoes). 

We’re starting our migration, heading north on I-17 now. I don’t generally listen country music anymore but I’ve created a Nashville playlist for this road trip because we’re going to meet The Others in Nashville in a couple of weeks for a Country Music Fest. I’m determined to know a line or two of song lyrics and to understand something called a Shaboozey. 

I’d given up Country by the time I met The Husband in the ‘90s but in my high school years—which coincided with Urban Cowboy—I owned seven pairs of cowboy boots made from the hides/pelts of at least five different animal species (I’m not proud). I even entered Country dance contests. And won.

So here we are, playlist playing. Hour two: I’ve already developed a profound love for this Shaboozey guy that Princess is so mad about and I’ve just texted Beela (real name Sheila) a link to the emotive song, Shut Up, Sheila. 

But it’s when I listen to the song called I’m Rednecker Than You that the Holy Spirit of the ‘80’s comes rushing right through me and I start to feel downright nostalgic and though The Husband is Okie I’m gettin’ the feeling he doesn’t understand my kind of Country.

I’m talking about summertime toes covered in red clay the exact color of the red ants that bit me when I was 10 years old while walking up to the 7-11 with my sisters to buy a Big Pickle. My dad drove an El Camino—the automobile equivalent of a mullet. 

The Husband and I are still driving, just about to hit I-40, and I’m humming along to, Jesus Loves You (and if you come ‘round me and mine again you’re gonna meet him face to face). I feel my feet scuffling a little two-step on the floorboard. I’m lingering there when these words from The Husband pierce my thoughts,

“Aren’t there any nice Country songs?”

By now I’m Born Again but realize he’s not fully committed and if we’ve got anything worth saving, he’s got to find his inner-Country. As if on cue the next song is called Welcome to Splitsville which has me worried. So we clear the rugs when we get home so I can give him dance lessons. By the 4th day he’s spinning me around and no longer counts the beats out loud. He wears only socks inside because,

“Heck, cain’t scoot in ‘em shoes”. 

This morning I caught him two-steppin’ solo on the way to the john. By afternoon he got a good lead on where to buy boots. 

Dag nabbit. Rednecker than me.

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All referenced songs are real by the way. If you’ve got Apple Music, welcome to your revival:

Rednecker Than You

https://music.apple.com/us/album/rednecker/1752583556?i=1752583559

Jesus Loves You

https://music.apple.com/us/album/jesus-loves-you/1707354911?i=1707355146

Shut Up, Sheila

https://music.apple.com/us/album/shut-up-sheila/1494372186?i=1494372398

Welcome to Splitsville

https://music.apple.com/us/album/splitsville/1819596977?i=1819596988

A Bar Song (Shaboozey)

https://music.apple.com/us/album/a-bar-song-tipsy/1737085577?i=1737085899