Hide your crazy

The drive from here to the Schmidts' farm is a long one. It takes pretty much a solid day. And it can get boring. So to beguile the time (and keep from falling asleep) I turn on the radio.

I don't have a list of favorite stations, because I normally don't listen to the radio unless I'm driving long distances. On the other hand, through trial and error I've found that the most reliable style of music for keeping me awake is Country.

Normally I wouldn't think of myself as a Country music fan, but for this specific purpose it's very useful. The beat is usually strong, and the tunes are usually catchy; so it engages my nervous system and keeps me awake. That's what I'm looking for on long drives.

Also the sentiments are pretty straightforward. Nothing is layered. Everything is on the surface. So I don't have to work too hard or think too deeply to follow it. Since a good bit of my attention is focused on the road and the other cars, that's a good thing.

The day I drove to the Schmidts—that would have been Wednesday, March 5, for those keeping track at home—I heard a song that piqued way too much of my interest. I couldn't make out all the lyrics, but I could tell that the spirit behind the song … the (presumably fictional) character who was singing it … was exactly the kind of irrational and over-dramatic high-maintenance woman that I have found so attractive over the years. Oh, I know women like these are bad for me. I know they are dangerous and crazy. So is alcohol, but that doesn't stop me drinking it. The good part is that I'm old and past it, so I'm no longer in the market for a new romantic partner. But my taste was always a little self-destructive.

The song was "Mama’s Broken Heart," by Miranda Lambert. When I finally googled the lyrics (after getting home again) I found that the song is mostly about the girl fighting with her mother, because her mother wants her to be restrained and lady-like. And while I may find the ideal of "ladyhood" a little artificial, I've got good things to say (from the perspective of practicality and prudence) about self-restraint.

But I also understand the desire to bundle up all that self-restraint into a big bag, and set it alight. Make a bonfire of it all to light up the sky. Good thing I'm not looking for a new girlfriend.

Here's the song:

P.S.: Actually the video is tamer than I expected. She never breaks anything, and she never sets fire to anything. I half-expected her to flip the dining table, or at least to throw her plate of food through the window or across the room. But she never does anything like that. Her Mama's training has sunk deep enough that she's too much of a "lady" to wreck her surroundings with savage abandon.

Maybe my expectations were set by someone with a lot more "crazy" to hide. Or a lot more passion. Or maybe just plain destructive rage. I'm thinking of this post, of course. But any of the posts tagged "Wife loses it" will do just as well.