Friends in Low Places

Let's talk about Garth Brooks for a minute. Let's talk about the energy and fire within his music that positively light up our souls. If you're human, and you've heard at least one lyric, you know what I'm talking about. The minute I heard he was coming back to New Orleans, I immediately texted Mom and the aunts "We're going to see Garth!"

It was everything I had hoped it would be. And more.

Our seats were in the last row of our section, way at the top. In fact, when I raised my hand, I could see my shadow from the spotlight directly behind me all the way down on stage. It didn't matter. His songs sounded just like they did on my tapes and CDs from the late 80s and early 90s. He freaking nailed it. For me, listening to Garth was this beautiful, nostalgic experience that only the three people with me could truly understand and appreciate.

It was my favorite parts of my childhood--riding with Mom and the aunts with a horse and trailer behind us hitched to Mom's Ford pick-up truck. It was long hot days sitting in arenas in jeans and boots, and cheering for Aunt Carol as she raced around those barrels with Huey, then Cricket, and probably a few others I can't remember. It was wild-colored, long sleeve shirts that I can still picture hanging from the trailer door, perfectly pressed. It was waiting at Granny and PawPaw's all day to get to go the barn with Mom and Aunt Carol at night. It was my first belt buckle from Mom, the one with the pinkish-purple jewel in it. It was laughing at Aunt Carol for singing all the wrong words to pretty much every country song there ever was. It was learning how to put a saddle on a horse. It was naming all the cats at the barn, feeding the chickens, cleaning the stalls and trying to avoid all the roaches in the tack room. Y'all remember how they'd scatter when we turned the lights on?? It was falling off my horse, and acting like I was fine so that Granny didn't get upset. It was blue and red ribbons hanging on the walls of "my room" at the Bellview house. It was Mom rolling over her own video camera with the trailer and trying not to laugh at her, because she was so mad at herself. It was Tomball Kid. It was having a mom and two older, yet super fun best friends that adored me, and I them.

Garth Brooks, thank you. You managed to bring all of that back last Sunday night. As I swayed from side to side. Singing every single word. Aunt Carol still doesn't get any of the words right, but she remembers. My childhood may have been a little different than the average kid. I didn't have a sister or brother, but I had my own horse, which was pretty awesome. I wasn't at dance lessons, instead I was learning how to ride "Pleasure."

Mom, Carol and Debbie, I hope you know how much fun you made my childhood and that every time I hear a country song, it makes me think of all the fun we had. You are my original "friends in low places." And "if tomorrow never comes" I hope you know how much I love you.

I keep forgetting that it's been 25 years. To me you still look and act like those goofy 40-year-olds I had so much fun with. Seriously, ya'll don't age. You haven't even slowed down a little, other than Carol finally giving up the horses. And how amazing is it that we have a new generation of little people that get to have you in their lives now too? Jasper and Sam adore you. When I ask Jasper who he wants to pray for at night, "Carol and Debbie" are always at the top of his list. God willing, the three of you will be around another 25 years plus, creating new memories with my boys. As for Garth Brooks, even if it takes him another 17 years to come back to NOLA, the tickets will be on me!