In reply to:
there's a tear in my beer, cause i'm crying for ya dear, you are on my lonely mind!
Don't start THAT, John... I went to a country bar last night to see my fiancee's cousin sing. It takes a good number of beer to make country sound good to my ears. And even then I could only delve as deep as Charlie Daniels, I'd be long dead before I could sing along with Toby Keith or Faith Hill.
Any other kind of bar, where if you don't fit the demographic exactly, you don't really attract any attention - I can walk into a dance bar or what-have-you and not get a sideways glance.
Walking into a country bar in a leather biker jacket with a goatee, chunky silver jewelry and an understated belt buckle (one that you can't carve a turkey on) gets you one of three different looks. The middle-aged crowd looks at you like you're about to steal their wallets, the younger rhinestone-cowboys get this look on their face like they're suddenly embarrassed to be wearing shirts that make them look like fruit stripe gum and 10 gallon hats on 5 gallon heads (I'm sure some of those cowboy hats are sold like novelty giant sunglasses or big foam fingers and aren't actually meant to be worn as cowboy attire)...and most of the young women - well, they like the change of scenery.
Now I'm sure it's different in Texas, but on the Canadian prairies, where at 2am, everyone gets into their Windstar or Chevy Optra at the end of the night, it's a bit different.
Bren R.
