she's gone country

like twenty years ago.  to be exact.  before country was IN.  before country was cool.  [small disclaimer to the world of country: i do wish to declare that there has never been anything remotely cool about women's wranglers.] 

i went country in tokyo.  as in japan, the country.  every afternoon, armed air force radio was on - for two hours.  at first the two hours were extremely long.  then they got shorter.  armed air force radio was the ONLY english radio station aired.  its reception was finicky.  unpredictable.  highly anticipated.  yet, why country in tokyo?  why not hip hop? or oldies (have you been to harajuku)?

i began to listen at noon because i craved hearing the english language from english speaking natives.  and calling america, just to hear english, every day was getting a bit expensive.  especially to those of you to whom i called collect.  oops. 

i first realized i went country when:

*i was singing along
*i knew the lyrics
*i was humming a song (that was ultimately stuck in my head) and i hadn't forgotten the tune
*i went to karaoke and requested "achy breaky heart"
*i learned to line dance at the western saloon in tokyo  
*i had plans to move to tennessee or texas upon my return to the states and country music was the only reason for this move

i was walking down sakuragaoka street, heading to the train station and realized my head was singing john anderson's "straight tequila night".  it is my first memory of placing a country song with an event.  not a monumental event.  but definitely an event.  K13 became my favorite song.  I still play it in juke boxes wherever I may be.  K13 is not always my favorite song... like it's the beastie boys at the red cow.  or it's some rap song at flannagans.  or it's some new age tune at the cellar.

A new line (that may or may not work) ...

I went out for a social fix -- to "Sam's". Not Sam's Club (although I may try that next). But "Sam's" as in a neighborhood pub. A spin off of 'Cheers'. "Sam's" as in the bartender Sam.

I did not have a current sponsor. So, I sat on a stool with my eyes focused on the television. A sporting event. What game? Don't know. What sport? Don't know. Don't care.

A well-dressed, blue-suited man approached my stool. He gazed upward so that our eyes would be fixated on the same program. I continued to sit in silence. He began to fidget. I am a top fidgeter so when someone else becomes the fidgetee, it gives me anxiety.

After what seemed an eternity, blue-suit smiled and commented on the game. My response was blank. Perhaps, I didn't hear him. So, blue-suit spoke louder, "Where are you from?"

"What makes you think I am from somewhere?" I retort.

"Well," he challenged, "you have a tan and people that live here don't go outside."

"First of all, it is not polite to comment on one's ethnicity or skin color. But to address your question, I just arrived from Tokyo." I informed blue-suit.

Blue-suit studied me and brilliantly proclaimed, "Is that SOUTH of here?"

I gasped. He was serious. Yet, (hopefully) intoxicated, thus, botching his intelligence quotient.

I tried to give blue-suit the benefit, perhaps, he was referring to TUCSON.

(In happily ever after, we married three years later)