Before we had music, we had rattails, then we grew up and cut them off, found jobs warning people about disasters, selling folks fresh fruits and vegetables, and shading their eyes from the sun. In the evenings, after work and chores, we change into the ratty outfits we pefer, with beer on the porch, to croon these simple tunes, all in fun. It has been a long loop to circle back to this style of song, resisting Oklahoma's force-feeding of country for as long as we could hold out. Can't help it anymore. I admit it's in my bones. And ever a work in progress.

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