Garth Brooks

It’s a little dreary outside, and we’re in for a heat wave today.  I’m sitting in my favorite corner spot on our new sectional, watching the birds through the picture window, sipping coffee, and listening to Garth Brooks’ most recent album.  

My birthday was in April, but I’m getting my gift today.  After 25 years of waiting, I’m finally going to see Garth in concert.  I’m little-kid-at-Christmas excited.  Foolishly excited.  

I bought not only one but TWO new shirts for the occasion.  They both read, “Blame it all on my roots,” because I’m THAT obsessed.  I bought two in case one didn’t fit right, but I’m glad I did because I’ll probably sweat right through the first one before we even get into the stadium.  

I mean, I would prefer it to be 70 degrees, but I’m not going to let a heat wave ruin my good time.  I’ve got a cooler full of water bottles and hard lemonades, and we’ll grab some sandwiches and chips from the local sub shop.  We’ll arrive early with our chairs and our cooler and our Garth playlist.  We’re doing this one right.  

*****

I’m seventeen years old; a newly licensed driver, relishing the freedom that comes with my own car.  I’m perched on the edge of the bed in my best friend’s room, letting her do my makeup.  Country radio is playing in the background, and when Garth comes on, the two of us grab hairbrush microphones and sing “Ain’t Going Down ‘till the Sun Comes Up” at the top of our lungs.  We’re jumping on the bed with the excitement of toddlers, gearing up for a bonfire in the woods.  

*****

I’m a freshman in college, with my fake ID in the back pocket of my low-rise jeans.  My tank top slips off my shoulder as my friends and I embrace and sing along to “Friends in Low Places” at the local bar.  We are young and foolish and full of possibility. 

******

I’m sixteen, in my tiny basement bedroom.  I’m just learning about betrayal, and my emotions are raw.  I’m proud of my new tape/CD player with detachable speakers, and I crank up the volume and play “The Thunder Rolls” on repeat, beating that iconic drum part with my concert band drumsticks on my twin mattress.  

*****

I’m fourteen years old, and mostly clueless about life.  But I’m full of teenage angst and optimism.  “The River” paints a picture of a life well-lived.  It feels like I’m learning a lesson from this song that I don’t fully understand yet.  But I sing along, dreaming of what the future might hold.   

*****

I’m eighteen years old, sitting with my bare feet on the dash of my boyfriend’s pickup truck. We’re sharing a gas station soda and a bag of gummy bears, singing along to “Wrapped Up In You.” I feel the warm wind blow through my hair and I can’t imagine a moment better than this one.

*****

I started dating my first boyfriend in 10^th grade.  We were together for nearly three years, and when we broke up during my freshman year in college, “Unanswered Prayers” was the anthem that I used to heal my broken heart.  

*****

Sevens came out during my senior year in High School.  It was one of Garth’s less successful albums, but the heartbreak spoke to me.  The ballads were different than the honkey-tonk music he was famous for, but the track, “You Move Me,” did just that, and I couldn’t stop listening.  “In Another’s Eyes” was heartfelt and brutal and beautiful (and his first duet with Trisha).  To this day, I can sing every word on that album, because I listened to it on repeat for so long. 

*****

I’m a words girl. Lyrics speak to me.  In my teens and twenties, when I bought a new CD, I would slide the sleeve out of the plastic case and listen to the entire album, reading along with the printed words, to make sure I got the full impact of the song.  “Belleau Wood” was the last song on the Sevens album, and the first song that ever brought me to tears.  I played it for everyone I knew, moved by the idea that it was possible to find beauty in the tragedy of war.  

*****

As I started to understand that the world was full of injustice and tragedy, “We Shall Be Free” came out.  It was a social justice anthem that spoke to me before I even knew what social justice meant.  

***** 

I’ve always been attracted to guys with a wild side.  But I’ve mostly been a straight and narrow kind of girl.  “Cowboys and Angels” made me feel understood and seen, and I would blast it on my discman, precariously balanced on the passenger seat of my 1984 Mercury Marquis and plugged into my car speaker.  Every time I hit a pothole, I would have to start it over, and it didn’t even make me mad. 

*****

Garth Brooks wrote the soundtrack to my teens and early twenties.  His music helped me to figure out who I was and imagine who I wanted to be. 

Music.  It changes us.  It speaks to us.  It brings us back.  It helps us dream. 

Tonight, I’m going to drink some hard lemonades and eat potato chips on the tailgate of my husband’s truck.  I’m going to sweat my ass off and sing at the top of my lungs and pack into a stadium with thousands of other people.  I’m going to see Garth Brooks LIVE and make a new memory to add to the list.  

I can’t wait.