A NIght at the Bar

     * previously published on Yahoo Contributor

Michael walked into the bar.  It was a small dive bar on the side of the road frequented by working people, mostly in their thirties.  There were several tables, but he picked a seat at the bar, choosing a seat without consequence to who he was near.  He placed a twenty dollar bill in front of him and as the barmaid flashed him a smile he ordered a bottle of Budweiser.

He noticed the barmaid whispering something to a small group of female patrons and they all looked into his direction.

He had never been to this bar, but it was similar to others that he had visited.  There was a jukebox across the room playing a selection of hip-hop.  It was not his music of choice so he got up and put five dollars’ worth of his own assortment.

As he walked up to the jukebox, he noticed a couple of the other female patrons cast their eyes upon him.  The jukebox had a fine collection of country music and he sorted through to find a grouping of Garth Brooks, George Strait, and Alan Jackson as well as a few of his more pop orientated favorites.

He made his way back to the bar, lit a cigarette, and took a swig of his beer.

He had never been to this bar before and he did not recognize any of the patrons, but he was quick to start up a conversation with the guy sitting next to him at the bar. 

His drinking acquaintance took a swig of his beer and pointed to the small group of women who had been gazing at Michael as he had walked in. 

His drinking cohort asked rhetorically, “Do you see that tall red-head over there?  I’ve been coming into this bar for over six months now and I can’t even get her to talk to me.”

Michael shrugged it off as inconsequential.  He knew that this bar wasn’t a place to pick up women even in consideration of the beauty of the tall red-head across the room.  This was mostly a place to sit down and have a few beers outside of the confines of his apartment.  Solitary drinking can be very depressing which is why Michael often frequented small establishments such as this.

Without so much as casual eye contact, the attractive red-head got up off her seat and walked up to Michael.  She was tall, but not too tall.  She was very alluring with sultry green as and all of the other assets which draw a man to a woman.  Michael had not been planning for a date or for any romantic involvement when he had walked into the bar, but she walked up to him and without a word of foreplay asked him to dance.

 An Alan Jackson song which he had chosen was now playing on the jukebox and they danced the Texas Two Step to the song A Song for the Life.

The inconsequential meeting between the two led to nowhere.  Their discussion was trivial at best and as they held each other close, he shared no interest in her other than shear attraction.

Through their discussion Michael discovered that her name was Rhonda and that she was a secretary in a local law firm.  Her mundane banter highlighted her lack of education which was more than apparent.  However, she was very beautiful and he thought it might be wise to ignore that fact and let the night lead were it may.

She invited herself over to share a drink with him.  It was a casual request.  As their conversation continued he was at odds with  himself over where he might want this night to lead.  She had a thick accent of guttural English.

"I'll have a long island ice-tea," she announced to the bartender as they sat down.  It was her understanding that it was a lavish drink reserved for the extravagantly wealthy.

The conversation bit against his nerves.  He vowed that he would find an exit to the trite and somewhat painful conversation.

Finally, after more than an hour of conversation with each other, he made his exit.  Relatively sober, he told her that he had to be to work early in the morning and that he would see her again.  He asked her for her phone number and made his departure.

Upon leaving, he made a pledge to himself that he would never visit that bar again.

A Moment of Inspiration

* previously published on Foliate Oak Magazine

The evening news played on the television in the midst of his drunken fog.  He had gotten off work at 5 o’clock from a dead-end job flipping hamburgers at the local grill.  Just like any other night he stopped by the liquor store on the way home and bought a 12-pack of cold beer.


“Doesn’t really matter what I watch,” he thought to himself when he got home to his apartment.  

“All the same anyway.”  The news featured a story on the Libyan conflict as it was called now.  

Apparently Kaddafi operatives were planning a terrorist attack on Times Square in New York City coinciding with Super Bowl Sunday.  He took another gulp of beer. 

In an inebriated haze he lit up a cigarette.   “Not much on TV,” he thought so he changed the channel.  It was a remarkable invention cable TV.  He had a host of 15 movie channels to choose from for a movie, or he could watch a sit-com on one of the network channels.  What he really wanted to find was a new action-adventure movie that he hadn't seen yet.  It was hard to mix self-pity, a 12-pack of beer, and an action-adventure movie, but he would try.

“Here it is,” he thought to himself.  

It was an old Clint Eastwood movie that he had never seen.  He could remember his friends talking about it way back in high school when he still had friends.  

“It was one of those, what do you call it, spaghetti westerns.”  He had always preferred Clint Eastwood’s cop movies but between a 12-pack of beer and himself this would be good enough.

It had been a typical day at work.  He had woken up around eight in the morning with an unenviable hangover.  He drove to the local mini-mart and picked up an egg and bacon sandwich.  Along with a couple of cups of coffee it got him out of bed and ready for a new day.

He had been drinking all night the night before, but it hadn’t been an action-adventure movie night.  Instead, he had chosen a deep and suspenseful drama in an attempt to spur his interest.  He was remembering back to high school; it didn’t seem like too long ago.  He had a seemingly limitless number of friends.  Every night of the week back then he was drinking with his friends.  Now it was an endless stream of an alcoholic solace shared with nobody but himself.  He didn’t do too well in high school but that didn’t matter because he was having fun and he had a lot of friends.

Here he was.  He was a 32 year-old unmarried bum with no kids.  He kept thinking he might try again at submitting an application to a bank teller jobs.  He had tried a couple years back but they had insisted that he would need at least a high school degree and most likely a college degree.  So now, he was a 32 year-old man flipping burgers all day at the local grill without any other prospects.

Yesterday wasn’t special either.  He got to work at about 9 a.m. in the morning.  He preferred the breakfast shift to the lunch and early dinner shifts. Working the breakfast shift he didn’t have to sweat over hot, greasy cheeseburgers in the sweltering summer heat.  Instead he was able to hang around all day supervising as he was the head cook in charge of the breakfast help.  He had somebody else cutting the potatoes for the hash browns and he was able to serve more as a manager than a cook.  It certainly paid a lot more than cutting up potatoes.  When he had started here more than ten years ago he had been an unemployed high school drop-out in dire need of an income.  His father and his mother had insisted that he find work.  Soon after securing the job at the grille he was able to move out on his own and get his own car and his own apartment.  His parents always told him throughout high school that he would not be able to live with them forever so he had guessed that it was time to start living his life on his own.  Besides, he had just broken up with his girlfriend at the time and he had once heard somebody say that such a situation called for a fresh start.  He had been working at the grille since.  Incidentally, he thought to himself, he had not had a girlfriend since.

He had arrived at work the day before at about 9 o’clock.  The waitresses from the night shift were just going home and the waitresses from the day shift were just showing up.  They didn’t pay him much notice, but it beat staying at home all day alone in front of the television. 

He usually was not in the smiley mood and this morning was not an exception.   He hated getting up early every day hung over and ill-prepared for a new day but he knew nothing else.  They greeted each other like they did every morning, but to him it was just going through the motions.  One of the waitresses who worked the early morning shift gave him a half-hearted smile that was more like a grimace. 

He got home earlier today.  Yesterday’s obsession with a crime drama on TV was replaced by the comfort and solace of beer for some other venue of entertainment.   It was a small one-room, studio apartment but it was in the neighborhood where he had grown up.  The Clint Eastwood movie was on television.  He took another chug of beer.

The desert-feel of the movie did not agree with his now inebriated haze so he decided to change the channel.  

"Remote controls were cool," he thought to himself.  

He couldn’t find anything that he wanted to watch but he kept trying.  He finally settled on a station.  It was the music channel.  He never really considered himself a music-lover.  There had been dance parties when he was in high school but other than that he never paid much attention to music.  He had always figured that a good beat and a party atmosphere were the only purpose that it served.

He listened and watched anyway.  No reason in particular, it just caught his attention.  It was a singer that he had noticed people talking about lately.  That is not what made him stop and see what it was.  Instead it was only a vague feeling that it merited his attention.

The lyrics were striking, not that he had ever listened closely to the lyrics of songs.  The singer sang a line about the hope that can be found from leaving the bottle and searching for a fulfilling life.  For a second he almost threw the remote control across the room in protest of a sort of vindictiveness that he almost felt was directed specifically in his direction. 

The song played on.  

“What was the worth of a song,” he thought to himself.  

Yet, it engaged him.  

The chorus played on, “Just when it’s at its worst, then is when you open your eyes.  Just when it’s at its worst, then is when you know they’re right.”  

It had a mellow sounding melody playing along with the lyrics and guitar riffs that soothed his soul.

He changed the channel and the news was on again.  There had been a recall of all the ground beef produced in the central valley of California.  He switched the channel.  A loud laugh track highlighted the puns and trite misunderstandings of an old Three’s Company episode.  He changed the channel.  

The song on the music channel was just ending.  “Just when it’s at its worst, all you have is to start trying.” 

He did not know why, but he had to fight off tears from entering his eyes.  One trickled down his cheek.  He finished his beer and passed out devoid of hope and inspiration for the day to come.

Spirituality in Country Music

 

“Religion is for people who are afraid to go to hell.  Spirituality is for people who have already been there.”  Unknown

The concept of spirituality pertains to personal growth and the ability to better one’s self.  Contrary to The Bible, the mass of spirituality to be found in country music is staggering.   The Bible primary settles upon Jewish folklore and history.  Moreover, other than the trite aphorisms that can be found in psalms and proverbs, The Bible is lacking any discourse for personal growth.  Moreover, what can be found in psalms and proverbs is lacking in terms of deep, thought provoking material.  The abundance of writing in The Bible does not touch on subjects neither compelling nor a basis for any sort of spirituality.  The spirituality that can be found in pop culture, and specifically in country music for the sake of this essay, is far more plentiful.  The copious amount of thought-provoking material that can be found in country music stimulates personal reflection which can lead to personal growth.

Through a basic, rudimentary reading of The Bible the most striking introductory finding is that the book, which is the center of the religions of western culture, lacks any real invocation of personal reflection.  The first few sections of The Bible center on Jewish history and folklore.  A literary source such as The Bible would be thought to stimulate emotions of peace and to serve as a model by which its readers should lead their life.  Rather than serving this purpose, The Bible simply is a collection of stories embellished from Jewish history.

Psalms and proverbs, as the name would indicate, should therefore serve as a guideline by which to live your life.  However, even these two sections of The Bible are lacking in that respect.  The psalms and proverbs do little in explaining or giving a blueprint on how to lead your life.  Rather, they are generally trite sayings and antidotes reflected without merit upon their own substance without any reflection or attachment to the concept of spirituality or living a fuller life.

The New testament of The Bible is the adjunct from the old testament of The Bible.  The New Testament is simply an explication of the death and resurrection of Jesus without a complex analysis or rundown of the life of Jesus which is commonly believed to be inspirational.  Throughout the New Testament as well as the Old Testament and the psalms and proverbs, the axioms that were said to be preached by Jesus do not appear.  The adage, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone” as well as others that are said to be contained in The Bible are not.  The Bible itself is lacking as a source for spiritual growth.

Country music, rather, as well as segments of other pop culture, should be viewed as sources for personal growth. 

Lyrics that can be found in country music, such as the lyrics, “I went sky diving.  I went rocky mountain climbing … I hope someday you get the chance to live like you were dying”  that can be found in a popular song by Tim McGraw aid in personal growth and spiritual growth far better than do the pages of The Bible. 

The lyrics, rather self-explanatory, state that the feelings associated with living ones’ life to the fullest regardless of where you stand in life aid in the sort of spiritual growth that can make possible the creation of one’s self the person they always wanted to be.  

Moreover, the song buy Garth Brooks, Unanswered Prayers speaks of a loving God who always has everybody’s best interest in mind.  The lyric, “Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers, remember when you’re talking to the man upstairs, and just because he don’t answer doesn’t mean he don’t’ care.  Some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.” 

When listening to country music there are countless other examples that invoke the same sort of spirituality.

The concept of spirituality in The Bible does not hold true to the ideals that those who preach The Bible espouse.  Although it serves as a symbol for all that is good in mankind, it's shallow pages leave much that is lacking.  The concept of spirituality is almost untouched within the pages of The Bible.  While the lyrics of country music cannot be said to be divinely inspired in terms of the history of the Christian religion, they can be said to be in the tradition of what is the best of mankind. 

To sum up the song by George Strait, Love without End Amen, best reflects on the goodness of God and the goodness of mankind.  The lyric, “Let me tell you a secret about a Father’s love.  A secret that my daddy said was just between us.  Daddies don’t just love their children every now and then; it’s a love without end Amen”.  These lyrics serve as a striking example of a pursuit of personal growth and intriguing thoughts that can be found in country music.

Although I do not particularly believe in The Bible or established religion, it should be said that I believe in God.  I don’t believe in God because what preachers say, or what religion says, or out of faith.  I believe in God because of all that is good in mankind.  To borrow another adage from pop culture, “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.  He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy.”  Similarly as long as hope, faith, and love exist the merits of a loving God must be recognized.