Smug

I was listening to country music on the radio in my office because the classical music station won’t come in today. I’m not listening to iTunes because I cannot listen to the Ting Tings sing That’s Not My Name again without jumping through my plate glass window. And I have no willpower when it comes to that song. I have just turned off the radio because every song on the country station seems to be about something painful and I do not have the room in my life for pain.

As for pain, I’m not in pain. I’m just saying who needs all that extra pretend-angst when I need not look further than two feet in front of me to see it in real life. So now I am sitting in silence. Did you know that Country & Western is only Country and has been since, I think, the 60s? Yes, they dropped the Western. You have not heard Western music in a long time.

Speaking of country music, which we were for a change actually speaking of something I start talking about, I heard part of an interview yesterday morning. It was with Loretta Lynn and it sounded fairly recent. She’s still a feisty creature! She said she only watched Coal Miner’s Daughter three times and then stopped because it was too difficult to watch. The interviewer asked if it was difficult because it was too close to life or because they didn’t get it right.

She said it was too close to life. She also said she was almost on the plane that went down with Patsy Cline aboard. Patsy had offered her $50 to go on the job with her, but she was offered another job for $75 and she took the better pay. She also said that Sissy Spacek had spent a year with her before filming the movie and she wanted to kill Sissy by the time it was over. She was laughing, so I think probably Sissy isn’t offended by the remark. Well, she was laughing, but she was serious, just plumb serious, folks.

Also, did you know that I grew up in Dayton with a girl whose father was from Butcher Hollow, KY which is the place Loretta Lynn lived in? I don’t think it exists now, but Paintsville was nearby. There is a Butcher Hollow Road. When her daddy spoke it, it went like this: Butcher Holler. At any rate, I have referred to this family recently. She’s the girl whose mom was from Paris. Remember? I said something like, “What a match!” but I am too lazy to go back and look for that. I could tell a couple stories about Belinda. I think she was the reason I ever got into trouble. We must have spent every waking minute together for a couple years, because most of life’s memories in Huber Heights, OH include her.

Back to Loretta.

Loretta talked about going into radio stations and how they would make her wait forever and how rude Ralph Emery was to her. He told her he didn’t like her style and she said she wanted to punch him. The interviewer mentioned that some of her songs were banned and she said, “If a song was banned, I never spent a penny on it. I knew it would go straight to the top if I left it alone.”

Then they played the song Your Lookin’ at Country, which is a good song and I have been singing it to myself for more than 24 hours now.

I have no idea how this turned into a post about my close, personal friend Loretta.

I ran the Capital Pursuit 10-mile race yesterday morning. After getting the children ready for church because obviously I am the only person capable of getting the children ready. No wonder some women get like that. I am getting like that – like I am the only one who can take care of the kids. It may be due to the fact that I am the only one, in point of fact, taking care of the kids.

Now I get it.

Oh, that sounds so bitter. I don’t mean it like that. Well, do I? I know many mothers who go through the same thing. OK, well anyway. They were not hungry, disheveled or naked when they arrived at church. I would have heard otherwise. So that’s another victory.

As I said, I ran the race. I did so in 10:07 minute miles. That’s pretty good and I’m pretty pleased with myself. Between taking care of the kids every Sunday morning and learning how to run, I may become insufferable rather quickly.

Shut up.

I’ll bet Loretta wrote a song about this sort of thing.