Showing posts with label Loretta Lynn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Loretta Lynn. Show all posts

Monday, August 16, 2010

A long way to go and a short time to get there

Stained glass is from St Mary's Catholic Church in Fredericksburg, Texas.



As always, I meant to blog about the Feast of the Assumption yesterday, but it seems to be a DEAD AIR tradition that I miss the day, so here I am once again, a day late.

Driving down Woodruff Road this morning, I got a new round of nasty honked-horns, merely because I took a few extra seconds to turn left. I am WELL AWARE of the reason for this, since it never used to happen. And you know what? Even if I *am* personally pissed off at our president, I'll be goddamned if I let some redneck [1] bullies force me into taking my ANOTHER MAMA FOR OBAMA bumper sticker off my car. I recently added a Lone Star flag sticker, which I hope makes them think I'm packing (since everybody in Texas is)... MAYBE I'll get some fucking peace.

This has been making me more and more angry.

It has happened maybe a dozen times now. I don't know when, but at some point, I am gonna lose my shit and we will have a full-fledged road-rage incident on our hands. Your mild-mannered, humble narrator will morph into an insane Irish yankee bitch, right before their surprised eyes; I'll leap madly out of my tiny, plucky Saturn and get all up in their face. Then, the Obama-haters (who probably *are* packing) will shoot me and it will all be on Court TV.[2] The lawyers will produce my bumper stickers and blog as evidence of dangerous radical activity, and (this being the Palmetto State!) the accused will have all charges dismissed immediately (and will possibly even be canonized by Nikki Haley!)... In fact, the defendants will probably be offered a reality-TV show: Death to the libs! ...in which they drive randomly about the land, shooting people with the wrong (liberal) bumper stickers. It will be a BIG HIT.

I probably exaggerate. Probably. Maybe.

~*~

While driving, I was listening to classic country on WOLT-FM. And it struck me that the hopped-up young turks honking derisively at me are probably listening to evil, unAmerican, urban hip-hop, and wouldn't know good redneck music if it bit them in the ass. But isn't it interesting that these upwardly-mobile young people borrow the styles, cars, attitude, entertainments and music of the urban liberal classes, yet retain such backward politics? What's up with that? (More about this in an upcoming post I am working on, about the tea party and gay marriage.)

And right before the redneck honking commenced, I was listening to Jim Reeves, dubbed Gentleman Jim for whatever reason, whom my mother never liked. She didn't think "crooning" belonged in country music. Me neither, but when I hear his records now, I feel as old as God (in a good way) and can't turn them off. It's a particular type of music that has totally passed on, like Tin Pan Alley, British Invasion, Big Band... (sigh)

And this brings me to the end of my eventful journey today! I was going to... ugh... the doctor.

~*~

Mandatory yearly TMI segment, with gory medical details.

It's been awhile since we discussed gruesome medical procedures here at DEAD AIR. (Probably because I haven't been to the dentist since my horrific gum surgery.) Alas, just like our cars, bodily MAINTENANCE is often required, and today (TMI, turn back now) I had a sebaceous cyst removed by an earnest, young, bright-eyed dermatologist who duly outlined my "options" in cyst removal.

I wanted to tell him, dude, back in the day, doctors didn't bother to tell us squat, and just started to work. (And if you asked questions, they might even tell you to shut up until they were done.) Not these days... they have gotten the memo, and the bright-eyed young physicians want you to know things. They tell you all about your cysts. When I asked to look at it, he showed it to me. It looked like a large kernel of corn (exact shape of one!), but all bloody red. (It looked to have it's own blood supply, which is pretty Cronenbergian.) The procedure was called a PUNCH BIOPSY... you know, like a HOLE PUNCH on your job? Saints preserve us.

Do I really need to tell you WHERE this awful thing was located on my body? Yes, the worst place. Buried in cellulite, I am surprised he could find it at all. Lucky for me, it was all swelled up and BIG, so it probably called right out to him: HERE I AM, DOC! And he punched a hole, right in my ass.

Thinking idly about this, whilst the good doctor worked on my derriere, I thought of the movie line, "The Bailey family's been a boil on my neck long enough!"--growled out by the immortal Lionel Barrymore in IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE. Barrymore delivers the line perfectly, in his fabulous rumbling baritone, but I've often thought it could have been much improved if the word was ASS... The Bailey family's been a boil on my ass long enough!--but that was 1946, and you weren't allowed to jazz up a script in such a fashion. [3] But I would loved to have heard old Lionel snarl out that line instead.

And so, here I am, waiting for the butt-novacaine to wear off, at which time I likely WON'T be sitting on a hard chair. ;) I bought a Mocha Frappuccino to cheer me up while I wait!

Trying to finish a number of posts in the meantime. The great thing about finally having low blog stats again? I can write anything I want and nobody is reading... and I can add some classic country too!

Enjoy, you crazy kidz!

~*~

NOTES:

[1] As a redneck, I can use this word, but you can't.

[2] I know, I know, we are supposed to call it truTV now, but that sounds dorky and stupid, and I hereby refuse.

I always wonder who got paid (and how much?) to come up with something as thoroughly dopey as "truTV"? (Which tells you exactly nothing about the court system or what type of legal programming the network specializes in!)

I hope the people at (the former) Court TV, understand that they was had.

[3] I often think about old movies that bore such language restrictions, when the situation and characters cry out for some limited but pointed cussing. For instance, Jeffrey Hunter and John Wayne should have cussed each other out a bunch of times in THE SEARCHERS, but of course, that was 54 years ago and simply not done.

I find it fascinating that a profusion of nasty words like "half-breed" and other racial insults *were* allowable, while simply calling someone a self-absorbed asshole was not.

~*~

You younguns will recognize this song as the inspiration for the amusing HBO show, Eastbound and Down, but older folks still associate it with the 70s movie, Smokey and the Bandit. (And it's where we get today's blog post title.)

Eastbound and Down - Jerry Reed



~*~

I grew up with this song, since every country and western band, including my mother's, was required to learn it. Truck-drivers considered it THEIRS and requested it every night. I love how it illustrates a whole mythology/culture around truck-driving.

Recorded back in 1963, you'd never hear "I'm taking little white pills and my eyes are open wide" in a country song ever again...

Six Days on the Road - Dave Dudley



~*~

She's Got You - Patsy Cline



~*~

Before I'm Over You - Loretta Lynn



~*~

You MUST HEAR Loretta belt out "Mississippi MAAAAAAN" in this song. Legendarily-amazing pipes!

Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man - Loretta Lynn And Conway Twitty



~*~

Warren Beatty is from Virginia, and can be credited with helping to take bluegrass mainstream, using this traditional bluegrass song as the recurring theme in his movie, BONNIE AND CLYDE.

Foggy Mountain Breakdown - Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs w/the Foggy Mountain Boys

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Classic Country Feminism

Latoya has inspired me to write about the feminism of Classic Country music.

Although country music is considered a conservative genre, there have always been women who challenged the status quo. The first on my list would be the amazing Wanda Jackson, properly known as the Queen of Rockabilly.

Wanda Jackson - Hard-headed Woman



~*~

If you saw the film Coal-Miner's Daughter, you know this song is the truth, and 13-year-old Loretta Webb started having babies almost immediately after her marriage to Doolittle Lynn (known as Mooney, for running moonshine). He cheated on her fairly openly, even once while she gave birth to one of their six children (four of these born before she was 18 years old). Loretta and Mooney fought in full view of everyone, usually with fists: "He never hit me one time that I didn’t hit him back twice," Loretta was frequently quoted as saying.

This song, recorded as late as 1975, was nonetheless banned on country radio stations. The lyrics, by TD Bayless, are too good not to reproduce here:

You wined me and dined me
When I was your girl
Promised if I'd be your wife
You'd show me the world
But all I've seen of this old world
Is a bed and a doctor bill
I'm tearin down your brooder house
Cause now I've got the pill

All these years I've stayed at home
While you had all your fun
And every year thats gone by
Another baby's come
There's a gonna be some changes made
Right here on nursery hill
You've set this chicken your last time
Cause now I've got the pill

This old maternity dress I've got
Is goin in the garbage
The clothes I'm wearin from now on
Won't take up so much yardage

Miniskirts, hot pants and a few little fancy frills
Yeah I'm makin up for all those years
Since I've got the pill

I'm tired of all your crowin
How you and your hens play
While holdin a couple in my arms
Another's on the way
This chicken's done tore up her nest
And I'm ready to make a deal
And ya can't afford to turn it down
Cause you know I've got the pill

This incubator is overused
Because you've kept it filled
The feelin good comes easy now
Since I've got the pill

It's gettin dark, it's roostin time
Tonight's too good to be real
Oh but daddy don't you worry none
Cause mama's got the pill

Oh daddy don't you worry none
Cause mama's got the pill


Loretta Lynn - The Pill



~*~

More true stories... the incendiary marriage of the late Tammy Wynette and George Jones was also quite legendary in country music. Although known for singing (and co-authoring) Stand by your Man, at one point, Tammy had enough standing by George. (In fact, she had five husbands in all.)

In this song, she warns him she is gonna go out and party just like the women he seems to prefer. (And she backed it up, too, publicly beginning a relationship with 70s icon Burt Reynolds.)

Tammy Wynette - Your Good Girl's gonna go bad



~*~

And the best for last! My mother sang this song in her band, and I can remember her rehearsing it when I was three or four years old; it was originally recorded in 1952 and has been recorded countless times since. The line, "It's a shame that all the blame is on us women" impacted me even as a child; it was the song that gave me my earliest heads-up. I listened carefully to the lessons given in the song, which also has the distinction of being the first Billboard #1 country song by a woman.

Kitty Wells recorded this song as an "answer song" to Hank Thompson's "The Wild Side of Life"--wherein Hank preaches self-righteously to the woman who left him:

I didn't know God made honky tonk angels
I might have known you'd never make a wife
You gave up the only one that ever loved you
And went back to the wild side of life

The glamour of the gay night life has lured you
To the places where the wine and liquor flow
Where you wait to be anybody's baby
And forget the truest love you'll ever know


Nashville-native Kitty Wells wasn't having any. These lyrics (by JD Miller) constitute her pointed reply to Hank. Most country-music historians agree that it was probably the first time a large number of women bought a record that their husbands didn't like, establishing a fan-base that they didn't even realize existed.

As I sit here tonight the jukebox playin
The tune about the wild side of life
As I listen to the words you are sayin
It brings memories when I was a trusting wife

It wasn't God who made Honky Tonk angels
As you said in the words of your song
Too many times married men think they're still single
That has caused many a good girl to go wrong

It's a shame that all the blame is on us women
It's not true that only you men feel the same
From the start most every heart that's ever broken
Was because there always was a man to blame

It wasn't God who made Honky Tonk angels
As you said in the words of your song
Too many times married men think they're still single
That has caused many a good girl to go wrong


Kitty Wells - It Wasn't God Who Made Honky-Tonk Angels



I hope yall enjoy these. They all mean a lot to me! (Cross posted at Feministe)