OK, I grew up in the Northeast, and married a Texan. We’ve been together nearly ten years so I feel I can speak my peace without violating any North/South treaties or etiquette.
It is a fact that I grew up listening to what is now classic rock, eating foods derived from Germanic and other local fare, and attending a plethora of ballet, piano and violin classes.
Years later, I’m listening to the soundtrack of Crazy Heart, trying to figure out the music on my new guitar (took up guitar at age 50), eating sushi and shopping whole foods with eco-friendly bag, with an educated palate from cooking school, and have a blog.
Yes, I stumbled a bit on guitar, wanted too much too soon (Eleanor Rigby, Horse With No Name) without knowing the basics then the lack of atmosphere here, literally, shredded my fingers and I had to take some time off.
Same with cooking. I just found out today that setting the oven at 275 means it will be 300 degrees according to the new oven thermometer. Setting at 300 initially resulted in a temperature on the gauge of 400 degrees, which would have burned my ribs. So, let’s just say our oven is a bit off. I made it work.
I can’t say I know anything about rap or other music that isn’t music or poetry to me. When it comes to rock or country or any variation, it’s inevitably about love and loss. We may hear a line about not being able to pay the rent, but that’s not the theme of the song. Or the wife leaving or dog dying. It’s all a part of a story.
If you like the story and melody, you like the song. If you like the ingredients and the way they were cooked, hopefully you’ll thank the cook and ask for the recipe. This is for you, Patsy Cline, Dee
