I'm A Little Bit Country

[PornoDoggy]

Bah - that is obviously NOT the perfect
country and western song because he hadn't said anything about
Momma, or trains, or trucks, or prison, or gettin' drunk.

[Newton]

Originally Posted by PornoDoggy

Bah - that is obviously NOT the perfect
country and western song because he hadn't said anything about
Momma, or trains, or trucks, or prison, or gettin' drunk.

ooh points for that for being spot on

[sarettah]

Originally Posted by Newton

ooh points for that for being spot on

Sheez, the closest that is to being "Spot on" is a spot on my ass.....


Let's examine if you will:

Point 1: Getting drunk. Please reference the bottle of wine in line 2. He is obviously preparing to get drunk or is already drunk.

Point 2: The truck. Again reference Line 2: "I got no place to go". Obviously, if he did have some where to go, he would go there in his cheby pick em up truck.

Point 3: Prison. Where the hell do you think he met his old friend Bob. It was while doing 3-5 for drunken driving (please note the second reference to drunkenness)

Pont 4: Train. He happens to be watching "the great train robbery" on the late late show.

Point 5: Momma. He's from Arkansas, who the hell do you think he's singing about anyway ? (Although, to be fair, it could be his sister)


I have listened to country music off an on for a long time. This stuff is deep and often has to be interpreted properly

[sarettah]

It was just after dark when the truck started down
the hill that leads into Scranton Pennsylvania.
Carrying thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Carrying thirty thousand pounds (hit it Big John) of bananas.

He was a young driver,
just out on his second job.
And he was carrying the next day's pasty fruits
for everyone in that coal-scarred city
where children play without despair
in backyard slag-piles and folks manage to eat each day
about thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes, just about thirty thousand pounds (scream it again, John) .

He passed a sign that he should have seen,
saying shift to low gear, a fifty dollar fine my friend.
He was thinking perhaps about the warm-breathed woman
who was waiting at the journey's end.
He started down the two mile drop,
the curving road that wound from the top of the hill.

He was pushing on through the shortening miles that ran down to the depot.
Just a few more miles to go,
then he'd go home and have her ease his long, cramped day away.
and the smell of thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes the smell of thirty thousand pounds of bananas.

He was picking speed as the city spread its twinkling lights below him.
But he paid no heed as the shivering thoughts of the nights
delights went through him.
His foot nudged the brakes to slow him down.
But the pedal floored easy without a sound.
He said Christ!
It was funny how he had named the only man who could save him now.
He was trapped inside a dead-end hellslide,
riding on his fear-hunched back
was every one of those yellow green
I'm telling you thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of bananas.

He barely made the sweeping curve that led into the steepest grade.
And he missed the thankful passing bus at ninety miles an hour.
And he said God, make it a dream!
as he rode his last ride down.

And he said God, make it a dream!
as he rode his last ride down.

And he sideswiped nineteen neat parked cars,
clipped off thirteen telephone poles,
hit two houses, bruised eight trees,
and Blue-Crossed seven people.
it was then he lost his head,
not to mention an arm or two before he stopped.

And he slid for four hundred yards
along the hill that leads into Scranton, Pennsylvania.
All those thirty thousand pounds of bananas.

You know the man who told me about it on the bus,
as it went up the hill out of Scranton, Pennsylvania,
he shrugged his shoulders, he shook his head,
and he said (and this is exactly what he said)

Boy that sure must've been something.
Just imagine thirty thousand pounds of bananas.

Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of mashed bananas.

Of bananas. Just bananas. Thirty thousand pounds.
of Bananas. not no driver now. Just bananas!

(From Greatest Stories Live: Ending #2: The country western ending)

A woman walks into her room where her child lies sleeping,
and when she sees his eyes are closed,
she sits there, silently weeping,
and though she lives in Scranton, Pennsylvania
She never ever eats ... Bananas
Not one of thirty thousand pounds .... of bananas

[Newton]

Originally Posted by sarettah

Sheez, the closest that is to being "Spot on" is a spot on my ass.....


Let's examine if you will:

Point 1: Getting drunk. Please reference the bottle of wine in line 2. He is obviously preparing to get drunk or is already drunk.

Point 2: The truck. Again reference Line 2: "I got no place to go". Obviously, if he did have some where to go, he would go there in his cheby pick em up truck.

Point 3: Prison. Where the hell do you think he met his old friend Bob. It was while doing 3-5 for drunken driving (please note the second reference to drunkenness)

Pont 4: Train. He happens to be watching "the great train robbery" on the late late show.

Point 5: Momma. He's from Arkansas, who the hell do you think he's singing about anyway ? (Although, to be fair, it could be his sister)


I have listened to country music off an on for a long time. This stuff is deep and often has to be interpreted properly

Bullshit .. I had this long post laid out explaining the flaws in your argument, but decided fuck it .. I am giving PD more points

[sarettah]

Originally Posted by Newton

I had this long post laid out explaining the flaws in your argument

[Dravyk]

Remember when rock was fun?

Wild Thing ... Magic Carpet Rides ... Dancin in the Dark ... My homeroom angel is a Centerfold ... Start Me Up ... Love Shack ....

I don't see that anymore in rock.

Now it's ... The Reason (Hoobastank) ... My Sacrifice (Creed) ... One Last Breathe (Nickelback) ... Unwell (Matchbox 20) ... Bleed For Me (Saliva) ...

Sheesh!!!

Meanwhile ... seems country knows how to party and make fun of itself at the same time!

Hicktown

Little Jimmy Jackson is jackin? up his Bronco
He?s gonna lay a little rubber later on at the truck pull
All the girls are getting? pretty sprayin? on the White Rain
Yeah they?re gonna get a rowdy tonight down at the football game
Yeah

Chorus:
We let it rip when we got the money
Let it roll if we got the gas
It gets wild yeah but that?s the way we get down
In a Hicktown

Well you can see the neighbors butt crack nailing on his shingles
And his woman?s? smokin? Pall Mall?s watchin? Laura Ingles
And Granny?s getting? lit she?s headin? out to bingo
Yeah my buddies and me are goin? muddin? down on Blue Hole Road
You know You know

Chorus:
We let it rip when we got the money
Let it roll if we got the gas
It gets wild yeah but that?s the way we get down
In a Hicktown

(Bridge)

We hear folks in the city party in Martini Bars
And they like to show off in their fancy foreign cars
Out here in the boondocks we buy beer at Amoco
And crank our Kraco speakers with that country radio

Chorus
We let it rip when we got the money
Let it roll if we got the gas
It gets wild yeah but that's the way we get down
Oh Oh We let it rip when we got the money
Let it roll if we got the gas
Its buck wild yeah but that's the way we get down
In a Hicktown
In a Hicktown
It's the way we get down
In a Hicktown
Yeah in a Hicktown

Oh we aint finished yet
We got yer country boys and yer redneck girls
It?s the party heard round the world
Right here in Hicktown
Yeah In Hicktown
The whole town's gettin' down

[sarettah]

Ok, when my youngest (who is now 14) was very young, her Grandma babysat for her daily, so she did quite a bit of riding around with Grandma and Grandpa.

They both listened to nothing but country.

So, when she came over my house (every weekend) and I have never been able to tell her no to pretty much anything (unfortunately she knows this) whenever we were in the car we had to listen to country.

At first I was irked, but as I listened further on I became aware that the formula many of the current country people were using was to reach back to the 60's and early 70's for material.

Then, the more independent folks like Martina McBride and Faith Hill were doing what can only be considered straight out rock and roll under the name of "country".

So, country does not have the "stigma" it might have once had as far as I am concerned. Although I have always listened to a very wide variety of music personally....

[Newton]

Originally Posted by sarettah

I just couldnt shatter your delusions

[Dravyk]

Originally Posted by Newton

I just couldnt shatter your delusions

If you shattered Sarettah's delusions, he'd have nothing left!



Sorry, Sare! Too irresistable not to go there!