I will not pretend that I am a member of the FFA, or a southern belle.  I don’t have a drawl, or own a pair of cowboy boots.  My dad’s not a farmer, and my dog doesn’t sleep outside.  My idea of a chore is unloading the dishwasher, not waking up at the crack of dawn to feed livestock.  My house sits on a half acre of land in a subdivision that wouldn’t allow four-wheelers (even if my mom did).

I am a Midwestern girl who can appreciate fresh sweet corn, a blue collar work ethic, and music that tells a story.

At a time when my friends were making up dances to the Backstreet Boys and humming the latest Brittney song, I had Colin Raye’s I Think About You on repeat.  Positive that I was the only little girl in the world who could relate to “eight-years old, big blue eyes and a heart of gold,” I was convinced he wrote it for me.  Twelve years later, I still think he did.  But now, my repeat button plays many more songs about my life.   Taylor’s latest boy bashing chorus is about my latest breakup, Jason’s Top 20 hit is how I spent my weekends in high school, Brad and Luke sing about the college nights I hope to have, and Carrie and I are just mistaken for twins… oh wait.  Country music helps us remember what we are, or at the very least, what we should strive to be.

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