If you are familiar with my playlists, you’ll see that I fit country music into a lot of my life. It may seem hard to believe, but growing up I hated country music. My early musical influence all came from my parents. First of all, I was an only child. Second, I spent my first six years of life outside the United States. I traveled with my parents living in different parts of the world, mostly in the Middle East and Southeast Asia. I did not get to experience country western music on that side of the world, especially not three decades ago. I remember that my parents owned Alabama, Tammy Wynette, and Patsy Cline records, but they never played country music.
Although I was born in the United States, it did not become my permanent home until the age of seven. Prior to that I became accustomed to traveling and discovering new and exciting cities. At seven years old I could not understand why my parents decided to settle down in a rural part of upstate New York. For the first time, I felt disconnected from society. Being an only child, it was somewhat depressing living in a small town with few people and nothing but farmland as far as you could see.
I met wonderful lifelong friends, but every Sunday my parents insisted that the three of us needed to go for a loooooooong family drive. It always entailed driving to some uncharted place even further away from civilization. Once we arrived to our final destination, it would always look like a ghost town. My parents would smile with fulfilling another exploratory ambition. I, on the other hand, would ask myself how anyone could live in such remoteness. Thinking about how far away we were and how long it would take to get back home made me even more depressed. Somewhere along the line I was introduced to country music, and for whatever reason it would evoke that same lonely emotion for me.
Fast forward to getting my driving permit. At first, I was so focused on being behind the wheel that I didn’t feel comfortable adjusting the radio dial yet. I remember my mother going through radio stations from the passenger’s side and settling on David Ball’s “Thinkin’ Problem.” It was the first moment a country song made me smile. The next song that played was Little Texas’ “Kick A Little.” I don’t know if it was having two upbeat country songs playing consecutively or the fact that I was finally in control of where I wanted to drive, but in that moment I made the decision to start liking country music altogether.
Here I am twenty years later, living in Florida. Not only do I love country music now, but I miss driving out in the middle of nowhere. It has taught me that if a certain type of music doesn’t sit well, there is probably a negative emotion attached to it. Things can totally change once the negative emotion is removed. My own feelings of restriction, captivity, and loneliness dissipated the instant I gained more freedom along with more social interaction as a result.
Country music now represents my happy mellow place. The “Get Ready To Pack The Yeti” playlist is my longest to date, and I know that I will always be adding to it. My husband and I listen to this playlist often. It puts the joy in coming home from work, checking things off the house list, and simply just being at home together. What about your own musical tastes? Have they evolved as much as mine over the years?
