Despite ruining country music for myself, I keep trying to branch out and enjoy new songs within the genre.

Ones my brain’s not yet marred by turning unassuming love songs into cannibalism campfire stories.

But, unfortunately, creativity is a rapidly evolving autoimmune disorder.

No sooner do I find something new and sweet and enjoyable like that song “Dirt” by that one group, and suddenly all I’m thinking about as I watch the couple in the music video smear bits of their property’s terrain on one another’s faces, is that scene outta Salo: 120 Days of Sodom. Now’s a good time to say that that’s a film which – despite my copious references to it – I never suggest you so much as even google. Just use your imagination. And if you haven’t got one, good lord, I wish I could donate you the overflow of my own.

Especially today.

Because when “Dirt” – a beautiful ode to the patch of earth you live on, grow shiz out of, and will ultimately return to (sweet, right?) got reduced by my brain to a film about forced-fed feces (guess we won’t need that imagination after all), I ventured onto Chase Rice’s “Carolina Can”. And it was just lovely. He’s talking about learning life lessons – which you don’t get in school. The camaraderie and victory of playing on a football team. Going back to find yourself. “Ah, surely I can’t ruin a hometown love story like this! Except… I’m just….trying to empathize. And I can’t quite seem to put myself in his cowboy boots (that’s all they wear down there, right? Even when they go jogging or swimming or tell their dads ‘AH DAOWNT WAHNT YORE LAFF!’ Yes? I thought so).”

But, I’m determined.

So, I’m sitting here, imagining a country song about my youth and hometown in a suburb south of D.C.

Let’s give it a go, shall we?

“They traded the forest for a Food Lion when I was ten…
mutated my two lane road over ‘n over again….
Mama said I couldn’t play past the driveway….
…cuzza the schizo lady ‘cross the way…

And soon we couldn’t even play outside…
After reports came ’bout the little boy that died.
They finally found his body near the overpass
With some batteries shoved in his assss…

September ’01 lotsa people died,
And so did my buddy Andrew on a fast joyride,
My V. Tech bestie was next and I’d always wonder:
Would it be different had I moved to Blacksburg?

I went back home to remember who I was…
Instead I stopped at Brother’s to catch a buzz…
And didn’t quite stop till I got shitfaced…
’cause I remembered why I left this plaaaace….”

Oh… that’s actually quite good. Has it already been done?

What’s that you say? Yes, but that’s not saying much because every country song is about the same thing?

Well, that’s a bit judgmental of you. But… to each his own.