Friday night, we (Lithus, our current mechanic ~ more on him in a moment ~ and I) decided we needed a bit of a night out. Usually, on the road, a night out means dinner at a restaurant instead of at the hotel or crew housing. Maybe a movie, if the town is big enough to have a movie theatre. A drink at the local bar. But Lithus and I have now been on the road for over a month and he was getting a little cabin feverish. Luckily for us, Richfield has a bar. And the bar has three pool tables. So, about 8:00, the three of us headed over to the bar to shoot a game of pool and maybe have a beer.
Now, back to our current mechanic. He is an old friend. A good friend. As the pilot's wife, I am thrilled beyond words that his diligence and skill are keeping my husband in the air. Plus, I just really like him, which doesn't always happen. Once I can come up with an appropriate name for him here, he will get his own moniker, because he doesn't deserve to be just another "Mechie" which is my usual name for the mechanic of the moment.
He is also, by his own admission, "a good ol' country boy." And in case you hadn't noticed, there is nothing country girl about me. Remember, I'm the one who thought the sheep might be sick when they had just been sheared. Remember, too, though that he is the one who didn't laugh at me for thinking so.
So, here we are, shooting pool in the one bar in town. The music is straight our of the 80's ~ to the point that I even mentioned to him that the jukebox was my high school car stereo. He surprised me by being able to sing along with the metal hair bands. We joked about Poison and Ratt and Van Halen ~ and then a song by each of them came on, making us roll our eyes, even as we sang along.
By 10:00, the crowd had shifted from older, to younger. The music had become far more current. There was even a little hiphop in there. And yes, country. Current country, but country nonetheless. And I think I surprised him by being able to sing along. Even if I didn't surprise him, I sure as hell surprised myself. Not sure when I heard it, or learned it, but I did. There is, I will admit, one country song out there that, if I'm not quite willing to say I like, I will at least say I know. That's as good as he's gonna get.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
2 comments:
How I wish this was that post that I could talk smack and give you hell (like true friends do) and sadly I can't.
Damn it.
Love Unskinny Bop and Bodytalk (Poison and Ratt respectively).
And as much as I distance myself from Nashville, Johnny Cash might indeed be one of my Personal Patronuses.
Neo-Prodigy ~ Johnny Cash doesn't count as country. Johnny Cash is a category unto Himself.
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