Thursday, January 26, 2006

Leap of Faith

To a rocket I’ve been tied
I’m ready for that screamin’ ride
It’s full of fuel and I just lit the fuse

I’m a raging, burning ring of fire
And I get hotter as I get higher
And I’m tearin’ a hole right through that sky of blue

When I woke up this morning, I was making exactly $1.00 per hour less than I am now. How's that for a Friday? (Well it's my Friday.) Bud seems to get a kick out of making me really happy. I can't believe I took a chance and got this lucky.

If a promotion and raise aren't reason enough to be elated, everything else about the day is:

-So what if there were four more inches of snow this morning? I got to spend an hour in the Case backhoe with Bruce plowing the parking lot. (I love playing in the backhoe, and I think the world of Bruce.)

-The fourth-grade class we gave a presentation to yesterday will be coming to the plant this afternoon, and they're a lot of fun and full of surprises. (Never open the floor of a fourth-grade classroom for questions. You get stories. "One time," said a little brown-haired girl, "our sink exploded." Well, it's water-related, right?)

-My prospects this weekend are fantastic. There's shopping with Mom and Morgan tomorrow and CAKE Saturday and dinner at Bekah and Chad's Sunday, and if that weren't enough, I lost a pound this week without even exercising.

-And my house somehow cleaned itself last night while I got a Billy Joel overdose from the iPod.

-I've listened to "Leap of Faith" by Big and Rich over 1,000 times, trying to figure out why I love it so much. (I'm serious. I listened to it repeatedly all the way to Mom's and back one weekend, which is 200 miles round-trip.) It's not the lyrics, which aren't super sophisticated. It's not the
two contrasting, acrobatic voices in perfect complement, or even the surprising gratuitous cello riff I caught about the 5th time through. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's just great. Go download it. Now. And tell me why it's got me hypnotized.

-I slept like the dead last night for the first time in weeks and woke up ready to join the circus.

My God, what a beautiful day.


Blogger Shepcat said...

I hope you appreciate that there aren't a lot of people I'd do this for, but it was only 99 cents, and I'm presently unemployed, so here goes:

Shepcat Overanalyzes Young Country Hits

… and has to admit that the song is actually kind of ingenious, based on what I think I'm hearing. (Incidentally, what I'm not hearing is this cello riff you speak of, even after more than a half dozen listenings at high freaking volume.)

The melody itself is a little downtempo, simple and plaintive — not quite sad, but it can still see sad in its rearview mirror — courtesy of our friend the lap steel.

The underlying harmony is provided by the mandolin, being picked at double time as though it's trying to outrun the melody. (In fact, the mandolin is higher and louder at the end, as if it can almost see itself overtaking the melody.)

The vocals also have a plaintive edge to them, but the verses rise a little at the end of each line.

Bottom line: it's optimism interpreted musically. And not that sun'll-come-out-tomorrow, so-cheery-you-want-to-punch-it-in-the-neck kind of optimism, either. It's actually optimism that has someplace to go. It's the sound of twang still smarting from being kicked in the ribs but captured in the act of picking itself up off the dirt.

It does go a little goofy at the end with the whole oom-de-ah-de-ah-da-da-da business, but this I'm willing to overlook if the song puts you in the kind of mood you're writing about.

January 26, 2006 at 11:47 PM  
Blogger A said...

It's going to take me a while to digest all that, but I think you summed it up nicely. I have to listen for the cello again now; I know it's in there.

I have a love/hate relationship with country music, incidentally. I hope nobody thinks I fit the cowgirl stereotype.

I usually despise songs that incorporate gibberish as lyrics (yodeling will send me running for the shotgun, normally) but for some reason this one doesn't get to me.

Thanks for your input, and thanks for spending 99 cents (and probably what, ah hour?) on me. There's a place in KC called Strawberry Hill where you could spend a lot more on me, but I'll explain that later.

January 27, 2006 at 8:49 AM  

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