I think it has been a while since I've checked in. Hard to tell since the past weeks I have been lulled into afternoons reading "Do" and "Don't" on Vice Magazine, weekends drinking bottles of wine by myself sliced with nauseating trips to the Hamptons and golf every other day followed by six hour lunches and a handle of Sapphire all while not having been inside a woman since that tour of the Statue of Liberty. But in between there has been a lot of driving alone which is always the best way to drive with few exceptions of a good buddy or a woman who sits shotgun mostly sleeping, looking like an angel.
I've been really fucking bored, fucking being a rude term but the adjective that encapsulates the feeling in the best way. Hell everything is cyclical, seven months from now I'll be on a jet to Afghanistan after a month of sucking it in the Carolina woods humping a pack. When you are bored and somewhat melancholy there's songs such as this.
Georgette Jones, born Tamala from the best stock of country music imaginable: George Jones and Tammy Wynette. She adds to the myth herself by not engaging in the music industry in full for some time and having an equally unsettled life just as her two parents before her.
It comes out in her voice, her phrasing and songwriting. I can listen to this song forever. I can listen to it alone in the car, or sitting on the couch; on the beach or laying in bed alone or accompanied. I can listen to her say "She's just waitinnnng for someone to love herrrr" over and over again until it burrows a whole into my skull. The stark almost banal and bland lyrics with a whining pedal steel sliding through the background and how the last line of every verse leave the opening for Georgette to sew it all up and paint the picture as few can.
Maybe it takes a slightly used man to recognize one of his own kind and possibly one will never see those flaws mentioned in that vividly tight refrain:
But inside there’s a slightly used woman,
On her body there’s scars and there’s dents.
She’s just waitin’ for someone to love her,
And ignore all his deep fingerprints.
Wow, it reminds me of one of my favorite lines in songwriting using similar imagery:
Well you've been broke and yea you've been hurt,
Show me somebody who ain't.
Yea I know I ain't nobodies bargain but
Hell a little touch up and a little paint.
Kinda funny how the first selection was written by a woman and the second by a man, I guess the world takes its toll on everyone. I'd love for both of them to get together and do a few songs together.
