achy breaky heart

Something most people know about me is that music runs through my blood. I have musicians (talented ones, at that) in my family. Seriously check out Red Tin Trio on www.myspace.com, you won’t be disappointed. Anyway, there are so many songs that I relate too and artists that touch me in ways I could never describe.

For example, I remember the first time I ever heard Billy Ray Cyrus’ song “Achy Breaky Heart” and I still relate that song to the summer my Papaw died, the summer that changed my world, the summer of 1992. Papaw, my step grandmother, my cousin, and I were in a car on the winding roads of Kentucky driving to Aunt Debbie and Uncle Sammy’s house. The radio station wasn’t coming in all too clear, but there it was on that static filled radio station in a car w/ some of my favorite people that I first heard the song, “Achy Breaky Heart.” I remember us all laughing at the audacity of the song and I remember filling so content, so happy, and so real at that moment.

Everything changed not long after that when Papaw died of a heart attack right in front of me and my father repressed all his pain and became an alcoholic. My sweet Papaw was gone, my step grandmother moved on, Becky got married, and everything completely changed for me.

It is because of those changes, the molestation I dealt w/ at the hands of a neighborhood boy, the way I equated sex with love for so long, and my own repression/regression that has caused me to be at this pivotal moment I’m at right now.