Hank: Dennis The Menace (US version)

Yep, there ain't hardly any Great Country Singers named Hank...

Okay, admittedly, not amongst the Ketchams.

---

Yep, there ain't hardly any Great Country Singers named Hank...

That's kind of like saying that there aren't a lot of great statues made out of copper, isn't it?

---

That's kind of like saying that there aren't a lot of great statues made out of copper, isn't it?

"A writer named 'William'? Surely you are in jest, sir!"

---

Speaking of names like Hank in country music, did I ever mention that our piano tuner when I was a kid was Leon McAuliffe?

---

and I can't fucking believe how slow this is at getting better! I've got to do this stuff, and my body needs to fucking cooperate for a change.

Preach it.

I'm going purely on my experiences here but gentle massage is pretty miraculous, ime. I'm doing it in conjunction with massive stretching, exercise and other treatments, but I think that if I'd had someone to just rub my back a little it might not have come to the physical therapy stage.

And I am trying not to be whine-y alone person, just on the side of "don't underestimate the healing power of touching" and I am guessing that Dylan would really like to see you out of pain and feeling better.

Err... I was out of the Both Kinds of Music Closet, right?

I lived in Phoenix for five years. In a glass house, apparently.

---

Plei, I'll hide in that closet with you. Don't you fret yer purty little haid.

---

OK. Will call doctor tomorrow and see if she'll phone in a referral to my PT. And if it comes down to it, I can probably get the pastor and/or sound guy and/or groomsmen to help me with the heavy lifting part of the wedding set-up.

---

That is good, Susan. I wasn't trying to make you feel jumped on at all, it's just damn I never realized how debilitating screwing up your back while doing nothing could be.

After so many weeks on flexeril (which rocks) and pain killers, it's really been the PT that has been delivering the results for me. The flex stopped the whimpering pain and the PT, and what I have learned there, is fixing the causes of the pain for me.

I get the frustration too.

---

Well, I haven't actually heard him, but I remember you citing him, and then I looked him up. Handsome devil, too. But yeah, your contempory country love has emerged previously.

He looks like he could have been in Twin Peaks. Not that that's a bad thing.

And classic! I just own more contempory than classic.

Wait. I also own a fair amount of Johnny Cash, but he, to use the hated term, transcends genre.

Cass! Sean! We have almost enough of us to line dance!

t cackles like a loon

(Not, mind, that I line dance.)

---

Eh, I grew up with pop country music, and I just can't listen to it. Familiarity bred contempt, in my case. 'Course, the same thing happened with Whitney Houston and Lionel Ritchie and other ubiquitous musicians of my formative years.

I had to line dance and two-step at my niece's wedding last year. It was hard to keep a straight face. And I took a lot of crap from the family: "You own a Stetson, and cowboy boots, and you ride...you HAVE to listen to Garth Brooks!" Well, yeah, I own a Stetson but rarely wear it due to hathead. My cowboy boots are pink. I ride English more than Western, and neither very much or very well.

But I'll keep the Coors coming while you guys line dance.

Speaking of riding (and I'm embarrassed at how long it's been since I've been on a horse), here's where we are going for our non-family vacation: [link] I've never ridden a Lipizzaner before. I love the photos of the Lipizzaner partaking in the picnic (partway down this page: [link] )

ION, one of my NOLA friends has found that her house is intact, although the fridge exploded.

---