Entry # 49: May 25, 2006

Camp Buehring, Kuwait (Somewhere near the Iraq border)

So I’ve been killing some time recently by writing my own country songs. Just the lyrics though, not the music. Right now, I’m about halfway through a decent debut album with six tunes to my name. They have a wide range of titles and qualities about them, like the party tune Amber Water (it’s about whiskey) or the somber lyrical strains of Does Hell Know I’m Alive, which speaks of the things God knows about you but you hope the devil won’t find out about. God will forgive you, the devil will exploit you. There are the playful verses of Two Steps in the Wrong Direction, a story of a fella who has two left feet. One of my favorites is the beach tune, Toes in the Hot Sand (And a Cold Drink in My Hand). It’s got a laid back attitude with an introspective look on life. Many of y’all remember the 1980 movie Urban Cowboy. Well, Suburban Cowboy talks about the eventual migration of the urban cowboy to the wild life of suburbia. A lot of people joke about how country music is all about your dog dying, old trucks breaking down, and your woman leaving you. This Ain’t Your Normal Country Song is more uplifting and talks about the good things in life. Lookout Nashville, I’m gonna throw on my soon-to-be trademark tan cowboy hat accompanied by my trusty fiddle. Oh yeah, let me tell you about that.

I’m gonna teach myself how to play the fiddle. I don’t plan on becoming Charlie Daniels and play the fiddle fast and hot. I want to master the slow, smooth flowing style of the bow drifting across four strings and produce a soulful tune that people can sway to. It shouldn’t set me back too much and give me something to do in between searching for bad guys and outing Shawn (check the previous entry for that story). If nothing else, it will be interesting. I played the piano when I was younger and was a member of the One Way Singers led by probably the greatest choir director of his time, Dan Brokaw. So I can read music, we’ll just find out if I can actually play it. For my first concert tickets will be probably about, oh, say $1 for front row seats. If you don’t want front row seats, tough, cause I doubt I can fill two rows of people willing to listen to me. Either way, I will entertain myself. And so the Soldier’s life continues…