Southern Rock Opera

I woke up filled with desire to... um... exercise, at 5am my wife had other thoughts so I headed into the gym. That weird time dilation thing continues, it doesn't matter when I leave for the gym I can't seem to start my workout until around 6AM.

I decide to spend an hour on an upright bike keeping my eye towards spring.

I view Saturdays as experimental. It's also 'me' time. I get up, get pretty (shave) and go into the gym to be all alone with my thought. Alas the no name dude who's already there reflects my disappointment in his eyes. We proceed to ignore each other like two girls wearing the same dress at prom.

Today's experiment was listening to Southern Rock Opera by the Drive-By Truckers in its entirety. I figure listening to Zip City in context might shed some light on the raging, great workout song debate introduced by that incessant pot stirrer TomS. I select Chiller TV figuring I'll soon be in The Twilight Zone. I plug in the ear-buds and go.

This album is suppose to be some sort of Lynard Skynard tribute and I guess there's an element of truth to that but it has a melancholy feel to it, interlaced with humor. For me it brought back memories and emotions that are never far from the surface. I suspect a lot of you know of what I speak. I wont go through a track by track listing but will pick out ones that stuck with me on this first listen.

Do you read liner notes? Do you remember liner notes? I pull them out of my short's pocket and start to read Betamax Guillotine I'd toss excerpts in here except for the language. If you decide to check out this album read the liner notes - they struck a chord, set the tone for what was to come. Clearly written from the heart, as was the whole album.

These boys can write and play. It figures I'm just now learning of them, this album was released eight years ago.

I'm not sure I'm brave enough to share but I'll try. The album opens with two kids killed in a car wreck - maybe it's the soft southern drawl that calls all these memories, "But this night he banked that curve just a little too hard and that 442 went airborne" and my mind and heart turn to Susan, Marybeth, Grace, Walt and Betty. I'm not exactly sad, there's a joy in remembering no matter the circumstance, a fondness.

Susan was a tomboy, funny and a serious golfer probably good enough to have made pro. When my mind drifts to Marybeth it always starts with an image of her at the beach. My sister and I teasing her about her Southern accent and Marybeth getting her hackles up and spitting back all nasal, "Well at least I don't sound like I'm from Cincinnati!" You probably had to hear it but I always laugh when I think on it.

Both were killed by drunk drivers and died within two years of each other, about a mile apart, each when they were twenty years old. The effect on Walt, their father was profound and yet you will never meet a more loving spirit. We recently buried Walt, my father's twin. They had one of those twin languages and called each other Dar and Dal.

Grace, the marathon runner to be is the kindest, funnest person you could ever meet; she is just a joy. She's a blessing and lives up to her name. Betty is 'Southern' incarnate, she says 'forehead' correctly (pronounced far-head for you Yankees out there). She made the cover of Life magazine and is so beautiful.

I pedal on wondering where this album will take me next.

The next song that brings a bit of a grin is Dead Drunk and Naked with the opening line,

When I was a young boy I sniffed a lot of glue.

It's just fun.

The various songs weave in and out but I get roped back in with The Three Great Alabama Icons and the hook, "such is the Duality of the Southern Thing…" It's spoken so I know I can sing it.

My father is deep south and my mother, born north of the Mason-Dixon in Clinton Iowa, will forever be classified a Yankee (such is the Duality of the Southern Thing…). I smile as I recall my Uncle 'B' and a story of how my father nervously told his family he intended to marry my fair mother. B was dead serious when he told my dad, "Tell her you have fits!" meaning epilepsy. You have to stretch 'fits' into next Tuesday to get a feel for the statement, the enunciation.

My father decided to ignore the council of his oldest brother and here I stand.

There's an underlying tone of anger? disappointment? whatever you feel when you're misunderstood coursing through the album; but it's also interspersed with fun and humor (such is the Duality of the Southern Thing…).

That was the effect the album had on me.

Is this a workout album? I remain unconvinced but it was fine if you're planning on spending an hour or so on a bike on a slow tempo workout and you're in the mood to listen.

I'm told that my blog entries are long. I don't know if I should apologize or not, I'm not sure if "boring" is implicit in the comment. Today I told you a bit about part of my family (just wait until you hear about my grandmother Linn). My family deserves a book, they are such characters. In the future I'll try (keyword try) to be briefer. I hope I don't get a cranky email from any of my kin. I hope I didn't over-share!

As I was wrapping doing some curls MarathonMan enters looking sleep deprived and cranky. I pop out the ear buds ending this Southern Rock Opera. He'd been on the phone off and on with operations during the night. The last time they called they told him to get his butt into the gym.

I hope you have a wonderful day!