I have a t-shirt with the quote, "Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life." - Berthold Auerbach or so they say. (One never knows if quotes are attributed to the correct person these days.) Anyway, music touches my soul, often. Driving to work, I flip through channels ranging from country, rock, disco and jazz to heavy metal, inspirational, and everything in-between.
Recently listening to Alan Jackson I hear it gets hotter than a hoochie coochie, on the Chattahoochee. Well, it gets hotter than a hoochie coochie in Texas too, and even in the mountains when the sun sets over my balcony. But here's the real question: what is a hoochie coochie? Even Webster is like whiskey tango foxtrot?
When preparing for work I like Bust a Move. This one gets a little risqué, maybe tacky. I sound like a mom. 'But you're standing on the wall like you was Poindexter', one of the least offensive lyrics in this particular song. The rhythm gets me every time. Risqué makes me get up and move. There are lots of others, probably better and no doubt worse language, but today it's Bust a Move.
Wilson Pickett, one can't go wrong with WP. I Found a True Love and New Orleans, Jason Derulo Want to Want Me, techno, any Aerosmith, Eagles, Andrea Bocelli, Queen, CCR, Bruno Mars, Zac Brown, ZZ, all good, good stuff. Airbourne Ready to Rock takes me back to Texas.
Does anyone remember the Kentucky Headhunters? Dumas Walker? "We'll get a slaw, burger, fries and a bottle of Ski." We all know I need to change "Ski" to Fireball, candy whiskey. Then there is Brenna Whitaker You Don't Own Me. This one hits every note, except "I'm young and I love to be young." I'd have to say kinda young (in my mind), young at heart, or something, but the lyrics are good. And I'm diggin' the whole age thing. Who knew? I'm comfortable with me, finally, that's what it is. Secure.
Joe Nichols What's a Guy Gotta Do cracks me up, makes me smile. "The looks decent wagon didn't pass me by." I've met a few of those. Nope, looks decent wagon didn't pass you by. Now tell me about your brain cells. Community brain? "Here dude, I'm not using this (brain), you're free to use it." (Maybe Maggie and I can write that song. Maggie's a talented schnauzer.) Please don't "break my eggs and bruise my artichoke hearts." Oh Joe, you're good.
Other favorites: Rise Up, Some Kind of Wonderful, Finish What He Started, Despacito (yep), The House of the Rising Sun, Tush, American Woman, Confident, Hurt's So Good, When You Say Nothing at All, Even If, Get 'Em up, I Can Only Imagine.
Side note: Our massive muscle brain cells are not determined solely based on education (formal), in my humble opinion. I love education, learning. I enjoyed college more than ever as a non-traditional student. I can't afford formal education at this point in my life, truthfully, I never could. However, I continue to learn. We need to use our brains, keep 'em active. Some of the most knowledgeable people I've met do not have a formal education, and they knock my socks off with their ability, intelligence. Many of my friends have obtained an education, advanced educations, and they teach me often, with their wisdom, skills, and understanding. Then there are those I'm thinking, okay, who paid for your SAT's, Aunt Becky? What I'm trying to say, inadequately, is formal education is admirable. It's not everything. So laugh with me when I'm silly and discuss the community brain. For what ever this is worth...
Makes ya think, doesn't it?
Music soothes, heals, renews.
Amen and amen.
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