And then it starts to rain!

I was washing the dishes tonight and listening to the radio, which, to my dismay, was blaring out the distressing experience known as “Country Hour”.

I am not a fan of country music. Or to put it a different way, I am a huge fan, but only insomuch as it makes me snigger in an unattractively condescending manner. Some of it’s fine – I have to admit to being quite fond of John Prine, and the Dixie Chicks, for example. The more Country/Folk style. But the twangy, ultra-depressive, “My wife left me and then my faithful old dog got run over by the same truck that I sold just so I could afford to eat” style Country and Western genre? Ohhhhhh boy. It only irks me so much because I know that so many people think it’s good, and I can’t cope with being in a world where someone can say “Oh, isn’t that just briliant?!” on hearing that sort of hilarious warbling, and others around will agree with perfectly straight faces.

I do, however, love it for its comedic value. The lyrics are generally so poor that they amount to being utterly genius, and I like this. And also, when you’re currently feeling the “life has treated me so bad / and now I am so blue and sad” vibes, you can enjoy said lyrics on a totally new level. I would never have expected a Country song to lift my spirits, but when Ricky Van Shelton’s “Life Turned Her That Way” came on as I was scrubbing the saucepans, I found myself giggling and singing along with great enthusiasm. I couldn’t help it. I know I have a tendency to be a self-pitiful, woe-is-me, poor victim, Eeyore sort of character when things go wrong. Just the sort of person to be the main character in a Country song, in fact. I could very easily be the sort of person who listens to stuff like that and thinks “Oh, woe! Woe! Poor me!”. So hearing the doleful lyrics and mournful guitar twangs, and recognising myself  in a truly ridiculously depressing song had the unexpected effect of cheering me up. Interesting…

I feel quite positive after that timely insight into how I could very quickly end up if I weren’t prepared to laugh at myself now and again. In fact, I have decided to write a Country song, myself. I’m pretty certain that anyone could do it, to the extent where I’m just going to start writing and rhyming and see what comes out. Ready?

She’s sittin’ on her suitcase
In a dusty foreign town
Her heartache’s etched on her face
She don’t know where she’s bound.

She ain’t got no cheeseburger to eat
No one to hold her while she cries
She thinks she must admit she’s beat
It never works, however hard she tries.

And then it starts to rain!
Oh, the rain, the rain
The pain, the pain
The grey skies, her teary eyes
They’ve said goodbye, she wants to cry,
Love’s a lie, passion sure dies,
And then it starts to rain.

She’s hurt her knee and is limpin’ sore
Towards a hostel that’s smelly and old
She ain’t got no money no more
And the world feels dead and cold.

There’s a rat runnin’ past her weary feet
And no one seems to know she’s there
Can’t stand all those happy couples she meets
She feels like there ain’t a soul who cares.

And then it starts to rain!
Oh, the rain, the rain
The pain, the pain
The grey skies, her teary eyes
They’ve said goodbye, she wants to cry,
Love’s a lie, passion sure dies,
And then it starts to rain.

Oh, wow! I am a Country music genius. Put those words to the one solitary standard Country twangy tune that seems to be used for every single song, and you’ve got a smash hit that will be played to death on Country Hour.

I’m tellin’ ya.

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