I was driving along today, minding my own business, somewhere between Lometa & Lampasas, on my way home from caring for my aged parents. I was listening to Willie's Roadhouse on Sirius, when a song by Tammy Wynette comes on: "I Don't Want to Play House".
Unsuspectingly, naively, I drove along into the second verse of that song. No silly old country song could challenge me. Or so I thought. And then, right about the :50 second mark, Tammy Wynette threw it into another gear, a gear which was more than pitch, more than a cadence, a gear which was pure substance. The thing-in-itself.
So suddenly, so effortlessly, she conveyed so much that is now lost upon us. And then the teardrops made my heart grow dim.
Unsuspectingly, naively, I drove along into the second verse of that song. No silly old country song could challenge me. Or so I thought. And then, right about the :50 second mark, Tammy Wynette threw it into another gear, a gear which was more than pitch, more than a cadence, a gear which was pure substance. The thing-in-itself.
So suddenly, so effortlessly, she conveyed so much that is now lost upon us. And then the teardrops made my heart grow dim.
