With Grass Between My Toes

The craving just wouldn’t leave me. No matter how I tried, I just couldn’t shake it. It was basically all I could do to stop myself from thinking about it.

I finally had to quit what I was doing to see what I could do to alleviate that insatiable yearning.

I was on my second lawn in two days. Mowing, mowing, mowing away; in the heat of the day! Barefoot this time - though I know it isn’t advised - it felt really good. Last night I mowed until dark and didn’t get home until almost 10:00 pm. “Enough of this!” I told myself, as I tried to finish up the second lawn, today. “I’m gonna eat!”

It was a bit of a strange craving for me to suddenly acquire: bologna on white bread. I knew I didn’t have any bologna, but I was pretty sure I had white bread. I hadn’t thought of, or eaten bologna in years.  I just don’t buy it anymore and I seldom want it or think of it. I did grow up on those sandwiches however, and I am pretty sure the last two days doing what I have been doing (gardening, weeding, mowing) triggered memories that took me back to that time, when bologna sandwiches on white bread were pretty much the norm on hot, summer days.

The Sound of a Shovelhead

Actually I love it when a certain scenario will trigger a memory from the past. I stopped what I was doing in the yard, to come into the house to see what I could find to quench that desire for a sandwich from my youth.  The closest I could come to it was Miracle Whip on white, buttermilk bread. That would have to do; the craving wasn’t strong enough to make a trip to the store that would take me away from my home on a rare day when I got to actually stay there.

But my crazy longing did bring back even more fond memories: mom, and her sandwiches on homemade white bread; a country home with a white picket fence fronted by a gravel road; gardens and tree forts and a Springer Spaniel named Casey. My craving also reminded me of a song by one of my favorite country music artists. It’s time to share another one, isn’t it?               

I Still Like Bologna

Alan Jackson

 

There's satellite communications

Long distance Internet relations

The world's a little faster every day
Now I know it's all well and good

And I don't embrace it like I should
But I wouldn't wanna go backwards even if I could. 

But I still like bologna on white bread, now and then

And the sound of a whippoorwill down a country road

The grass between my toes and that sunset sinking low
And a good woman's love to hold me close.

I like my 50 inch HD plasma

Feels like they just reach out and grab ya

500 channels at my command
I finally gave in and got a cell phone

That I hardly ever seem to turn on
I guess I never had that much to say.

And I still like bologna on white bread, now and then

And the sound of a whippoorwill down a country road

The grass between my toes and that sunset sinking low
And a good woman's love to hold me close.

I got a laptop that sits on a desk

I don't use it much except to check on

Some old car from yesterday
I kinda like that music thing
You just download 'em

And you can save about every song
That's ever been made.

But I still like bologna on white bread, now and then

And the sound of a Shovelhead down a gravel road

The grass between my toes and that sunset sinking low
And a good woman's love to hold me close.

Well, I guess what I've been trying to say

This digital world is okay

It makes life better in a lot of ways
But it can't make the smell of spring

Or sunshine or lots of little things
We take for granted every day.

Oh, and I still like bologna on white bread now and then

And the sound of a whippoorwill down a country road

The grass between my toes, that old sunset sinking low
And a good woman's love to hold me close.

Yeah, bologna, a woman's love, and a good cell phone.

  

Ok, yeah I know the lyrics are a little corny (especially when read), but the sentiment is not. And the melody is fun and catchy. Take a moment to watch the official video; it puts it all into perspective, and it will make your day seem better. Alan Jackson is my favorite singer after all…and with all his riches and success, he still craves bologna on white bread, too…with grass between his toes.

 

Oh and by the way, no one can tap his foot like Alan. ;-)

Now, that's country! "And that's a wrap!"  ;-)