Since I'm just a baby blogger and still struggle w/ just the basics of making Blogger blog, I don't know the whole scoop, but I think (because I lurk) that there's this thing that the more seasoned "teenage" bloggers do where they "tag" a fellow blogger. As in, "tag, you're it, now tell us 10 things about you that no one knows." It reminds me of "mommy chain mail" seeking stickers, or children's books, or recipes, or panties and those make me cringe. And scramble for the delete key.
But, IF I was to be tagged, one of the ten entries I'd submit is that ...
1. I listen to country music radio.
2. Exclusively.
I seek out a competing station for news, traffic, sports, or if my 8.5 year old budding 80s music afficionado is in the car. But, generally, if it's just me and the open road, I am accompanied by the saddest songs ever written. I say "accompanied by," because I assume the role of lead singer ... and loudly.
Texas country is my favorite ... Keen, Robison, Willis, Creager, others ... But, Top 40 Country is usually what's always on. Strait, Brooks, McGraw, Hill, others ...
BECAUSE these are the saddest songs ever written, of whose song lyrics and vocals I can understand because I'm sure Alanis can belt out a sad one if I could just understand her between the screams, I often have to tune OUT a song.
I can't listen to the newish McGraw diddy about "if you're readin' this, I'm already home" ...or gone ... or something like that.
I can't listen to the one by someone I'm not sure who about the abused little girl in his child's classroom ... no one does anything ... and ... don't know cuz I don't listen.
Can't listen to many of the ones about little boys growing up ...
But, throw in a Brad Paisley song 'bout fishin' or checkin' for ticks and I can laugh all the way up, or down, IH10.
So, the last few weeks, I've had my ear tuned for a beautiful ballad by who I THOUGHT was Emerson LAKE, and now I see is EMERSON DRIVE. (I often don't know WHO is singing a song, or whether they're wearing shell necklaces or taco hats, just that I like the song.)
This song, the first few times I listened, was about "moments." Something about a "bridge."
Then, I caught the verse about a homeless man on a bridge saying he hadn't always been this way. He'd had "moments" where he amounted to something.
And then I went back to the melody ... singing along LOUDLY as best I knew the words.
And gradually I put more of the song/story together. I liked the message, what I gathered of it. We all amount to something. We're all different. And, in the words of my favorite broadcast features reporter, Steve Hartman, "we all have a story."
Today. Open road. IH10. It clicked. I got every word. Every meaning. And I got goosebumps. And big ol' teary eyes.
And I came home to search for the lyrics to be sure I got it right. I found the video and that drove the message home. And since I'm a baby blogger, I don't know if I can "embed" as I'd like. But, if I can, my message to my Mother is this ... don't watch it.
If you're my mother, don't click here to visit a Web site where you will then scroll down to the lyrics for "Moments" and then click on the little blue video camera icon thingy to watch and listen. Told you. Baby blogger.
If you're my mom, just know that this song's message -- and I know it's just a stupid country song and I don't know why the guy isn't w/ his family and WHAT drove him to the top of the E Street Bridge -- is one of the messages I hope to leave w/ my children.
EVERYONE has a gift. All of us have potential. All of us yearn for compassion. COMPASSION. All of us have a hand to offer. A hand to hold. Time to listen. Time to share. At one time or another we've all been down. Someone has helped us up.
Our memories are precious. We should share them. They give us our future. Our hope.
No MATTER our circumstance.
At some point, we've known love. Given love. Have more to give.
We should give it. To anyone who needs it. Whether they know it or not.
There's just no excuse.
(And those Emerson Drive boys are just CUTE.)
