KCC III: The Good Stuff

If there's one Chesney song I never liked from the first time I heard it until yesterday when I was driving, taking a sip of Diet Coke, which I nearly spit out in my ill-advised, frantic attempt to change the station while turning, it's this one.

"Well, me and my lady had our first big fight
So I drove around until I saw the neon lights
At a corner bar.
It just seemed right, so I pulled up."

There's something irritating about "my lady;" it just feels like it's either the precursor to "my old lady" or he's married to Guinevere. And, neon lights? When I think "neon lights" I think "EXXXCELLENT EXXXCITEMENT" or, perhaps, a homage to the billboards of South Carolina "TOPLESS! TOPLESS!" Similarly, why does this corner bar "just [seem] right"? Presumably our protagonist is out searching, driving actually, to go find liquor. Does the rightness really matter? In the quest of getting shnockered and driving to go do so, most people are just looking for the first dive with a tap. Corner bar? Sure. ABC Liquor? Done. Hard lemonade stand? Whatever gets the job done.


"Not a soul around but the old barkeep
Down at the end lookin' half asleep.
And he walked up and and said,
'What'll it be?' I said, 'The good stuff.'"

"The Good Stuff" is so smug, so patronizing. The Good Stuff is what that one sort of mousy aunt's husband says, the one who gives everybody nicknames, wears way too much cologne, and regales you with stories of his golden days playing baseball (which, later, passing an old yearbook, you can't even find him in the picture) and mispronouncing well-known Major Leaguers' last names. He sits there, watching another relative grill things, and then he calls Aunt Susan, who actually has a spine and half-yells with a smug grin "Hey, Suzy, would you get me another drink? You know some of the good stuff." And then you're pretty sure you saw Aunt Susan walk inside and spit in his drink. So anyway, our protagonist is that guy.

"He didn't reach around for the whiskey;
He didn't pour me a beer.
His blue eyes kinda went misty,
He said, 'You can't find that here.'"

He didn't "reach around," did he? Welcome to The Old Barkeep's Corner Bar showing of: The Kenny Chesney Homoerotic Subtext Strikes Back! Also, I'm pretty sure the proper response to "You can't find that here" is "Um, then where the hell can I find it? This is a bar, isn't it, old man?"

"'Cause it's the first long kiss on a second date.
Momma's all worried when you get home late
And droppin' the ring in the spaghetti plate,
'Cause your hands are shakin' so much."

There's nothing like a serious relationship with a man that still lives with his mother! Unless of course this is high school, which wouldn't surprise me, because every Chesney song seems to imply that minutes after graduation all women should be back in the kitchen, pregnant and barefoot. Or, hell, just graduate in the kitchen, pregnant and barefoot. Mmmm, spaghetti, probably goes good with a $6 bottle of wine.

"'And it's the way she looks with the rice in her hair.
Eating burnt suppers the whole first year,
And askin' for seconds to keep her from tearin' up.
Yeah, man, that's The Good Stuff."

Okay, seriously, a year of burnt dinners? Instead of shoveling down charred casserole, our misty-eyed barkeep might have suggested to Goodie Barkeep that if you cook something for too long, it will burn. One may think that getting the same blackened meals over and over might suggest to her to change her methods but then, John McCain's still in the presidential race, so perhaps not.

"He grabbed a carton of milk and poured a glass
And I smiled and said, "I'll have some of that."
We sat there and talked as an hour passed, like old friends."

I hope he grabbed that carton out of a refrigerated space. I also love, if by "love" I mean "loathe," the folksy turnabout: minutes ago, the protagonist was all "Double tequila. Damn it." Now, it's like "Well, GAWRSH, is there apple pie back there, mister?" But, if there's one thing Kenny enjoys, it's an almost bipolar change of opinion.

"I saw a black and white picture and he caught my stare.
It was a pretty girl with bouffant hair.
He said, 'That's my Bonnie,
Taken 'bout a year after we were wed.'"

Goodie Barkeep's name is, of course, Bonnie because even the old barkeeps have wives with Irish Catholic names. Especially old barkeeps, I guess. Anyway, between Bonnie, the bouffant hair, and this being a country song, I can't shake the mental image of Bonnie Raitt. Everytime I hear this song, I always expect the old barkeep to turn to the protagonist and say, with a twinkle in his misty-eyes, "Let's give 'em something to talk about, junior."

"He said, 'Spent five years in the bottle,
When the cancer took her from me.
But I've been sober three years now,
'Cause the one thing stronger than the whiskey'"

There is no better place for a recovering alcoholic quite like a bar! A BAR! B-A-R! What's next, meth addicts in a pharmacy? Ex-cokeheads at Lindsay Lohan's? The old barkeep did spend his years in a bottle like he was a tiny ship or a sappy love note from a Nicholas Sparks book, and...Jesus, A BAR? I'm sorry, it's just, a bar? Really?

"'Was the sight of her holdin' my baby girl.
The way she adored that string of pearls,
I gave her the day that our youngest boy, Earl,
Married his high school love.'"

I'm glad that Bonnie Barkeep got a prize for Earl (...nice name, kids) getting married. Notably, Earl married his high school love, which only further proves that true love is only found in the hallowed halls of ones high school. I am, evidently, doomed to the life of a spinster.

"'And it's a new t-shirt saying, "I'm a Grandpa!"
Being right there as our time got small,
And holding her hand when the good Lord called her up.
Yeah, man, that's the good stuff.'"

While "holding her hand when the good Lord called her up" certainly indicates a life well-lived, I can't really imagine that this should be lumped in with the rest, especially given the five years that followed inside that big ol' bottle.

"He said, 'When you get home, she'll start to cry.
When she says "I'm sorry" say "So am I"
And look into those eyes so deep in love,
And drink it up.'"

You better hope she starts to cry. I might revisit the specifics of said big fight--were other women involved, did you lose large sums of money, did you call her a whore, etc.--before returning home. She might be packing your belongings or loading your shotgun for all you know, champ. Hell, she could cry because you've come back, and she thought she finally got rid of you. Not all women are quite like Weepy Bonnie Barkeep. Also, please don't "drink it up;" that's borderline sketchy and horrendously cheesy.

"'Cause that's the good stuff.
That's the good stuff.'"

Ew, creepy uncle. Creepy, creepy uncle.

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Harry Potter and the Awesome Times

"Of course this is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

I'll wait a few weeks to say more, but I loved the book, even its (fairly few) flaws. What I really loved about the series, though, is encapsulated in the above quotation, I think; there are some books and teachers that can make imagination and creativity absolutely indestructible, Jo Rowling (among many others) did that for me. I'm grateful for it.

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More Serious Solutions for Serious Problems

My solutions for immigration worked so well, that I thought I would grace the world with 10 Ways to Solve the Iraq War:

1. Raid the drug stash of Al Gore III to provide migraine relief during floor debate.

2. Put together the Shi'a-Sunni Invitational Hosted by Tiger Woods in Baghdad. Golf seems to distract the hell out of everyone.

3. Throw a Harry Potter release party in Iraq. There's nothing ultra religious insurgents love more than tales of a boy wizard! Well, maybe not nothing.

4. To determine the withdrawal timetable, tape a calendar to Harry Reid's back and play "Pin the Tail on the Jackass."

5. Make everyone watch Aladdin. Yes, I know that it takes place in Saudi Arabia, an entirely different country (allegedly), but nothing gets the creativity flowing like Middle Eastern stereotypes as imagined by Disney.

6. Hire prostitutes as pages for the week. Apparently, there's a Congressman or two that could recommend some good ones.

7. Put the troops on the magical bus that took all the illegal immigrants back to Mexico last month. Oh, wait.

8. Promise a cage match between Madam Speaker and Cindy Sheehan on the House floor as an incentive for successful legislation. Do not forget to have medical professionals on call.

9. Distribute an edited version of Transformers entitled The Americans' New Weapons among insurgents in Iraq.

10. Tell John McCain to sit a few innings out, champ.

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KCC II: There Goes My Life

The other night, I explored the frightening world of unnecessarily poor grammar. Tonight, I'm forging ahead to the saccharine musings on unplanned teen pregnancy of "There Goes My Life."

"All he could think about was I'm too young for this.
Got my whole life ahead.
Hell, I'm just a kid myself.
How am I gonna raise one?"

When you drag a good Catholic girl (Mary, Katie, Maggie, Lucy, and/or Annie) down to the river and don't keep enough room between you for the Holy Spirit, unplanned teenage pregnancy strikes. I enjoy the relativism here; it's completely acceptable that they had premarital sex, but God forbid any other option than Having the Damn Baby, Young Lady is mentioned. Our Young Protagonist does breach the subject indirectly, however, rhetorically pondering whether he is ready to have a dependent."All he could see were his dreams goin' up in smoke.
So much for ditchin' this town and hangin' out on the coast.
Oh well, those plans are long gone."

Let's closely examine the heartfelt aspirations of our young hero: to go prowl the coast, probably driving up and down a boardwalk with the windows down and a few sketchy jokers in the truck bed, looking for other Catholic girls to sleep with. Now, you have someone here who is lamenting this as a lost dream. I don't think this person is ready to have a child depending on their physical, emotional, and financial care. Buy, hey, with a little luck, everything could turn out alright, right?

"And he said,
There goes my life.
There goes my future, my everything.
Might as well kiss it all good-bye.
There goes my life."

At this point, the sound of our strapping, virile protagonist's mother weeping from the kitchen can be heard in stereo. It sounds like hope tying a noose.

"A couple years of up all night and a few thousand diapers later
That mistake he thought he made covers up the refrigerator.
Oh yeah, he loves that little girl."

See, if you just give teenage pregnancy a chance, everything will work out in the end!

"Momma's waiting to tuck her in,
As she fumbles up those stairs.
She smiles back at him dragging that teddy bear.
Sleep tight, blue eyes and bouncin' curls."

Most importantly, however, our girl has birthed an Aryan child. The secret method to achieving idealized conceptions of beauty in procreation is unplanned teenage pregnancy. After all, Mary (the Virgin, not Kenny's woman in "Anything But Mine") was pretty surprised about the Christ child.

"He smiles
There goes my life.
There goes my future, my everything.
I love you, daddy good-night.
There goes my life."

Oh, my, isn't it clever! Before, our young, reckless, premarital-sex-having protagonist hated the idea of children, but now he's a dreamy, responsible father. Too bad that this is aggressively cute and cloying.

"She had that Honda loaded down
With Abercrombie clothes and 15 pairs of shoes and his American Express.
He checked the oil and slammed the hood, said you're good to go.
She hugged them both and headed off to the West Coast."

I know the fuel economy on Hondas is good because they're so light, but that must be one hell of an AmEx card to load down a car. I'd be checking more than the oil, is all I'm saying. I also have a high appreciation for the indiscriminate location she's heading to: the West Coast. Of course, Portland may as well be San Diego; they're all filled with Hollywood liberals and illegal immigrants wandering around, praying to their pagan gods for more abortions. Little do they know, however, that even if you're completely indifferent or openly hostile to the idea of a baby, having that child is always the answer for everyone, regardless of financial conditions.

"And he cried,
There goes my life.
There goes my future, my everything.
I love you.
Baby, good-bye.

There goes my life.
There goes my life.
Baby, good-bye."

Within the context of the song, these final verses fit. Isolated, however, they take on a tone seemingly appropriate for a suicide note. I imagine that the tone is similar to what you would think to yourself were this song on a loop and you were trapped somewhere.

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Kenny Chesney Chronicles I: Never Wanted Nothing More

Kenny Chesney disturbs me in a way that I can't quite describe. If pressed to sum up my distate, it would be the concept of a Hat Room. Where George Strait probably has four or five Stetsons that are on pegs in his closet or sitting on his dresser (or so I like to imagine), Kenny seems like someone who has a walk-in closet lair for just his hats. He has a Hat Room.

On the other hand, there are about a half dozen of his songs that I really like. So, I've decided to dissect the lyrics of the ones I really, really detest to find out what it is specifically that I dislike about Kenny Chesney, beginning with his atrocious new single "Never Wanted Nothing More." The song is only about eighteen minutes long, you'd think it was the damn "Ballad of John and Yoko."

"Never Wanted Nothing More" by Kenny Chesney

"I couldn't wait to turn sixteen
And drive all the boys around
Foot on the gas and hands on the wheel
Was all I could think about

A little rust in the bed of that truck
And a four speed on the floor
Five hundred dollars
It was mine all mine
And I never wanted nothing more"

Much like Tom Cruise, Kenny's always good for at least one fairly homoerotic undertone; in this case it's "drive all the boys around." This straddles the line (...like one does) between motherly school bus driver and sexual predator. What boy wants to drive for the sole reason of carting his other male friends around?

Although, I'm sure most girls would be a little wary jumping into a $500 death trap driven by somebody with a Hat Room who thinks double negatives are acceptable. The never/nothing phrasing is so gratuitous, though. It screams "HA! I'm STILL Country, you bastards! I will demonstrate by using UNNECESSARILY POOR GRAMMAR. Country music is mine, all mine!"

"I took Katie down by the river
With a six dollar bottle of wine
Just a fool tryin to play it cool
Hopin' she'd let me cross the line

And I was prayin' that she couldn't tell
I'd never been that far before
The first time's a one time feeling
And I never wanted nothing more
No, I never wanted nothing more"

Enter "The Lady." There's always a girl and she always has some Irish-Catholic name (Mary, anybody?), or else she's almost frighteningly bland (the girl who thinks tractors are sexy and dreams of yards full of children and probably pastures full of grandchildren), possibly both. Frankly, I'm shocked she even let him get near the line after a $6 bottle of wine and a $500 truck ride to the river. Kenny did, however, take the time to pray to our Lord before engaging in premarital sex after getting a girl drunk for the occasion. I'm sure God was thrilled.

"Well, I'm what I am and I'm what I'm not
And I'm sure happy with what I've got
I live and love and laugh a lot
And that's all I need" [Chorus]

Kenny is both what he is and what he isn't. That might confuse you, but once in practice it makes much more sense. For example, he's both not-gay and gay.

"My buddies all tried to change my mind
But I told them that I thought it through
Well Katie laughed and my momma cried
When they heard me say I do"

I hope, for Katie's sake, that these are not the same buddies that Kenny was driving around, but it would explain a lot. I could also see "laughter" and "tears" as appropriate responses to Kenny Chesney getting married. Surely, Renee Zellweger's family both laughed and cried the day they got married, probably more of the latter.

"Her little ring was a little thing
But it was all that I could afford
Now she's mine, all mine
Till the day I die
And I never wanted nothing more
No, I never wanted nothing more"

There's something unnerving about "she's mine, all mine." It sounds a lot like something the Wicked Witch of the West screams before tossing Dorothy down some steps, to be quite honest. Notably, Kenny also refers to his truck as "mine, all mine," which may mean that Katie, too, is cheap and rusty. The phrase also evokes the image of poor Katie, trapped in Kenny's Hat Room with her little ring. While there, of course, she too can reflect on the gratuitous use of double negative until the day that Kenny dies. Presumably, she will endure the rest of her time on earth by contemplating the wonderous moment in which she too is dead.

[Chorus]

"One Sunday I listened to the preacher
And I knew he was preaching to me
I couldn't help it I walked up front
and I got down on my knee

Right then and there I swear
I changed when I found the Lord
Glory Hallelujah Good God Almighty
I never wanted nothing more
No, I never wanted nothing more"

Ah. Here comes the third portion of the song, the part when the clever (or horrendously worded, in this case) phrase is shifted towards the spiritual. It certainly isn't the first time this theme has been employed. I don't particularly take offense with it until "Glory Hallelujah Good God Almighty." It's like this strange tic of words somebody just blindly picked out of a hymnal. It's not a sentence, or a cohesive thought! It's just random words! But then, as Kenny, is sure to remind us, sentence structure is not his strongest skill.

[Chorus]

"I never wanted nothing more
and I never wanted nothing more"

GODDAMNIT, KENNY. LEARN TO SPEAK ENGLISH.

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These Are My Demands

Dear China,

This about Yi Jianlian, isn't it? We said we were sorry about that. Holding my Mac Book Pro hostage in Shanghai is no solution, though.

We have serious weapons that you are not aware of, China.

We're breeding mutants. Mutants that can extinguish all human life. You may have heard of Paris Hilton, but we have legions more. As we speak, we are currently destroying those who dare cross our border with the sounds of Avril Lavigne and Lil Mama. We're not screwing around anymore.

You think Tiananmen Square was bad publicity? We can flood your airwaves with broadcast upon broadcast of "So You Think You Can Dance." And, really, what do you think we've been doing in Taiwan all these years? Beware the Plague of the Elmos as they fly across the Taiwan Strait, dancing before you, incessantly asking you to tickle them, and laughing in terrifying robotic squeals. You only bring it upon yourself, China.

Please, China, heed my warnings and put my Mac on the first Fed Ex plane out of there. Just remember, all it takes is one phone call, and Ann Coulter, Bill O'Reilly, and Cindy Sheehan will be released upon you like a plague.

No Love,
Katherine

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Battle of Wits on M Street

Today's just a red letter day for witty people, I guess.

Intern #1: Oh, God. 'Jews for Jesus.' They're almost as bad as Greenpeace.
Intern #2: Oh I know. Those goddamn Greenpeace harrassers.

Random woman: [singing] 'Under the limbo bar! Limbo, limbo, limbo! Ha, ha, ha!' Sorry, Matthew's been watching a lot of Barney.
Girl to her friend: That's why I don't want kids.

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Movie Time

Live Free or Die Hard: Bruce Willis kicks ass, everybody is witty (Willis and the bad guy), stuff blows up, Bruce Willis kicks even more ass, everybody is seriously hilarious (Justin Long and McLane's daughter), and all kinds of shit blows up. Whoever was involved with this knows how to make a freaking summer blockbuster that doesn't suck. Also, props to them for not making McLane's daughter a lame damsel in distress when she gets kidnapped and for "Okay. You're gonna have to dig deep inside yourself and grow some bigger balls." So many other good lines, though. This movie rules. GO SEE IT. That is all.

All About Eve: Nominated for fourteen Oscars for a reason, let me tell you. Bette Davis is the deliciously nasty, completely empathetic drunk whose slighted Margo wins you over almost immediately. Anne Baxter is a crazy, crazy, CRAZY bitch who's deceptively trying to take Margo's place in life. The movie's about Broadway, which rings a bit false, but the dialogue pops and Baxter, Davis, and George Sanders bring complete depth to their characters. The film gets you totally involved, you're actively hoping that Eve fails but at the same time totally impressed with how awful she is.

Roman Holiday: I love Audrey Hepburn. She basically embodies what I perceive to be class and charm. However, I have yet to see a movie where I like her leading man; Bogart's too old for her in Sabrina (though Holden is a good match), Prepard's too old/serious/stiff/creepy in Breakfast at Tiffany's, and Gregory Peck's blandness in this film is overwhelming. I suspect it has something to do with the fact that Audrey Hepburn probably had chemistry with a telephone pole and so producers thought they could cast any big name opposite her and it would work. I need to watch Charade again, though, because I think Cary Grant might do the trick. Anyway, this movie, which introduced Hepburn, contains too little Hepburn; the beginning's great but it lags as Peck becomes the central character. The film didn't engage very much, though I will say that a charming European princess was the perfect role for Hepburn.

Ratatouille: I might need to see this again because I was exhausted and we saw it at 10, so I wasn't really feeling kind towards the world. Here's the first impression: Really good, but not I-Rant-and-Rave-About-It-Fantastic; better than Monsters Inc., not as good as Finding Nemo or The Incredibles. At the end of it all, I couldn't really get over the rats in the kitchen- with the exception of the main character, Remy, because he looked like a really, really clean, tiny, fluffy rat that would probably wear socks and mittens if you asked him nicely. The animation was absolutely gorgeous, however, and the music was a great balance of cheesy Parisian cliches and well-placed score. The rats, though. I really don't like rodents.

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