Alligators 'n Roadkill

Alligators 'n Roadkill
On The Road


Monday, April 20, 2015

Republican National Convention Preview held in Arlington, Texas

         I used to like Country Music.  But, now, I wonder if there is such a thing any more.  We responded to the weeks of hype by sitting down to watch the ACM Awards show, from AT&T Stadium, last night.  Personally, I was put off from the git-go by the crowd noise, that simply overwhelmed all attempts to introduce anything by a variety of people.  Then, I was not able to make out hardly any of the words that were (I presume) being sung by various performers.
         I know that George Strait, who at least still represents real Country to me, tried to sing about all his exes, but, again, I could barely understand him.
         We watched a parade of people we do not know, who pranced, and moved, and apparently danced to their own music, as they made hand gestures that reminded me of performers from the Rap or Hip-Hop genre.  There were very few female performers.  Most of the males seem to favor tight pants, shoes that look vaguely like tennis shoes, and there was lots of long hair, a number of piercings and tattoos.
         I suspect that the closest to the country any of these people have ever come was looking at it from the windows of their tour buses as they went from town to town.
         As I said, George Strait still looks country, and he was - other than Reba McEntire and Dwight Yoakum - about the only performer that I could even recognize.  Granted, I am no longer a young man, so I hope I can be excused if I complain about how the younger people are bastardizing music in general.
         We stayed with it for far too long last night, mostly because the wife said she wanted to see Garth Brooks.  His "one-of-a-kind, " "one-and-only" appearance had been hyped very strongly by CBS for weeks leading up to the big "shew," so I'm sure that had something to do with our patience.
         When he finally did appear, we quickly wondered why we bothered to wait.  I knew it was not going to please me when the lady from ET introduced the widow of the stupid Sniper dude, who, in turn, introduced Garth Brooks.  I have no idea what he sang about, but I believe it was intended to be something very patriotic.  When all kinds of young people wearing various military uniforms began to march down the aisles, and the crowd noise got even louder, my first thought was, "My God, they are turning the-house-that-Jerry-suckered-the-citizens-of-Arlington-into-building-for-him into a preview of the next Republican National Convention!"
         Garth Brooks then lost a fan when he started talking about these young people as "heroes" and "warriors" who are "defending our freedom."  Here's a reality check for ya, Garthie boy:  If any of those young people have seen combat, it was not about freedom.  Not yours.  Not mine.  They might have seen combat while fighting one or the other of W's stupid wars, but those wars have had nothing to do with freedom.
         So, The Great Big Show was pretty much a bust for us.  We couldn't hear the music, if there was indeed any music beyond George Strait.  The crowd noise was simply ridiculous, and took away any chance to even listen to whatever show there was.
         As for crowd shots, they kept going back to the same few young ladies, dressed to the nines, all mouthing the words of every frickin' song, and dancing their little tails off.  I wonder why nobody else in that huge stadium was worthy of being televised.  Then, Cristina Aguilera sang with this fat guy.  Oh, yeah, that's Rascal Flats.  What the hell kind of name is that, anyway?  All I could get out of their performance was that it appeared to be a competition to see who had the greatest middle(aged?) spread, and who could sing the letter "O" with the most notes up and down the musical scale.  I think it was a tie, because they certainly seemed to have a serious mutual admiration society thing going on.
         I can hardly wait for the CMA awards show.  Oh, and don't even get me started on Taylor Swift.

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