Much to R's chagrin, I like country music. Come to think of it, I like almost any kind of music that he doesn't. It's always been hard for us to agree on a radio station. Typical scene in our car:
Me: "Oh, I LOVE this song! Turn it up!"
R: NOT SAYING A WORD, just looking at me like I've grown a third eyeball in the middle of my forehead.
R: "That's a great song. Leave it there."
Me: "Are you kidding me? Well, okay." Pause for 2 minutes..."I've had all of that I can take." C-L-I-C-K.
You get the picture.
Okay, back to the point. There is one. I promise.
I really like the song by Kenny Chesney, "The Good Stuff".
It's that first long kiss on the 2nd date, Mama's home worried 'cause you come in late.
Dropping the ring in the spaghetti plate, 'cause your hands are shaking so much.
It's the way that she looks with the rice in her hair. Eatin' burnt dinners that whole first year.
And asking for seconds, just to keep her from tearing up. Yeah, man, that's the good stuff.
CJ went to my parents last night (that 10 minutes down the road thing has its advantages!) R & I were able to meet some old friends for dinner, at a restaurant on a river. We sat on the deck and ate seafood, wrapped up in music from a boat docked below us & great conversation. It was relaxing, serene & just plain fun. It was good.
But later, we came home & I turned on the music channel. "Singers and Standards". We can actually agree on that one (well, he accepts it in small doses). We curled up on the sofa listening to "Embraceable You", "The Nearness of You", and others. Eyes closed. Holding hands. Drinking in the moment of just us & some timeless music. I looked over at R & thought, "I get to do this for the rest of my life."
Yeah, man, that's the good stuff!