Why I Loathe Country Music

I recently found out that one of the head honchos from my corporate office loves country music. This is the last guy you would ever think would rock Taylor Swift on Pandora in a crowded office and not feel one ounce of shame. One of my other bosses is also a closet redneck, to the point that his ringback tone is chock full of hee haw pride that I can never get out of my head whenever I call him ("I'm a lifetime sponsor of the FFA," Damn! Every time!). Even my girls in the Sally Tomatoes, who are educated, sophisticated, and classy broads all seem waaaaay too down with Carrie Underwood and the Dixie Chicks. Whenever we karaoke (which is often), one of them inevitably busts out the honky tonk, and they all sing along robustly whilst I sit sullenly by, nursing my vodka tonic.

This is not OK.

I need this shirt.

Country music is the scourge of the earth. I have very eclectic taste in music (other than hard core gangsta rap that doesn't even have a catchy hook you can sing along to and just kind of mumble and make up the words in between). But I cannot abide country music. Here are the reasons why:

1. I'm dead sick of it. When I worked at the grocery store in my sort-of hometown of Foresthill, CA (which is just about as hillbilly as you can get without the accent), I had to listen to nothing but contemporary country music over and over and over and over again. Seriously, my ears were bleeding after only a few months. The job itself wasn't terrible. But the music made it unbearable. To this day, I can't hear it without cringing.

Oh Wortons. Not-so-good times. And even worse music.

2. It's pandering to the sap in all of us. If I had a nickel for every time I started accidentally tearing up at some sickly sweet country song about some kid with a sick mother, or cheaply invoking 9-11, or a daddy singing lullabies to his daughter, or an couple growing old together and reminiscing about the good old days, I'd have MANY NICKELS! What's worse is that I know exactly how they're manipulating my emotions and yet it's working anyway. Damn them! The worst offenders: "Christmas Shoes," "Butterfly Kisses," "Oklahoma," and "Remember When." The only pandering song I secretly like, "Don't Take the Girl." But only because it reminds me of roller skating when I was eight years old. Not sure why.

Damn you Alan Jackson, making my parents tear up whenever they hear your song.

3. Steel guitars. There's something about the twang of a steel guitar that just drives me absolutely batty. I realized that it's racist against a guitar that can't help the way it sounds. But it just has a connotation of everything I loathe about country music that I throw up a little in my mouth whenever I hear one.

Poor, misunderstood instrument.

4. Redneck pride. There is nothing cool about being a redneck. Having gone to school grades 5th through 12th and being surrounded by a large population of them, I can say this from experience. Uber-tight pants, ugly cowboy boots, giant-ass belt buckles, and tucked-in t-shirts, do not spell sexy. So to musically boast about being one of these sad creatures is just unfathomable.

This man represents everything that is wrong with America.

5. Property damage. This namely applies to one particular song that always pops up on karaoke night. "Before He Cheats," by Carrie Underwood. Yes I understand that it's supposed to be the anthem of the wronged Southern woman. Designed to make girls who have been scorned feel some sort of cathartic, vicarious vindication. But all I can feel when I listen to the tale of this angry woman beating the shit out of a guy's expensive, souped up car, just pisses me off. Who is going to pay for that damage? And why are we encouraging women to inflict costly destruction when a man strays? This is not a healthy outlet and I do NOT support this song, no matter how catchy it is.

I sure hope she is willing to fork over for her night of vehicular massacre.

6. The lyrics. Who writes this shit? I know that not all lyrics are golden, but the worst ones seem to stem exclusively from country music.

That's just too many sequins for one little girl.

7. Taylor Swift. I know she's America's sweetheart, but I think she's the devil in a sparkly cocktail dress. She seems like a nice girl. But her music is terrible. And I saw her on Saturday Night Live before I had ever heard her music, and she was god awful live. (Though, to be fair, 97% of the performers on SNL are terrible live). Her stupid sparkly guitar and her middle-school lyrics and raccoon eyes. Ok, so I admit that she's secretly a guilty pleasure. But I refuse to ever download her music or openly admit that I've rocked out to "You Belong to Me" on Stan's speakers when no one can hear me. And I hate myself for it.

Oh Billy Ray. With a name like that, you never had a chance.

8. Mullets. Enough said.

I'm sure there are more, but I just had a large, fruity and delicious cocktail and my brain is feeling delightfully fuzzy. Let's just say, I effing HATE country music.