Day 22 - Track 1

I love commercials. I work in advertising so go figure. I think commercials are like miny movies; if they are done right. And the best commercials play on previous ones, like new chapters; or are just great stand alones. Of course bad ones are best forgotten. Think I am crazy? Everyone knows that the most expensive commercial time is during the Superbowl, and the best ones are on at that time also. Hell, I would rather watch the commercials than the game.

I think the one for Mastercard, where the guy gives his wife first a box of tissues, then a paper bag and then the trampoline, before revealing the cars is GREAT! And the look on his face; truly the cat who is about to eat the canary and the canary has no idea.

Second are those match.com commercials where two people find each other. Yeah I know either romantic or sappy-depending on what you believe. I want to believe the romance. I look at the couples and hope they are happy and are great together.

I have a section on my Zune player that is entitled "Songs to be Played at my Funeral." I only want one or two traditional songs played, NO BAGPIPES, while the rest can be shuffled with these. Each of these songs mean something to me. The only two things in my life that are truly never changing are the stars and music. So, the first track up is:

Five Generations of Rock County Wilsons by Doug Supernaw

It seems like overnight the town of Red River
was suddenly full of strange men.
Who wore suits in the summer and stood on the dirt roads,
trying to hold their maps in the wind.
And some of them smiled
and some of them didn't
and none of them cam back again.
After 5 generations of Rock County Wilsons
the last 50 acres, apparently didn't
mean a damn thing to them.
I stood on the hill overlooking Red River
where my momma and her momma lay
and listened to the sounds of the big diesel cat
as they tore up the woods where I played.
And I said momma forgive me
that I'm almost glad
that you're not here today.
After 5 generations of Rock County Wilsons
see the last 50 acres in the hands of somebody
that would actually blow it away.
You know the bus station in the town of Red River
used to be the general store
But now they got a new one and you know thats okay
if a bus is what you're looking for.
So early one morning
when the sun cut Red
I got up with the dawn.
After 5 generations of Rock County Wilsons
The last one just climbed on a big old gray dog
and was gone.

For those who don't know my back story, they won't truly understand, but I had to sell the family farm after a messy reading of my mother's will. And I was the fifth generation of the Howard county line to have lived on the Fairview Stockfarm. But I wouldn't be saying momma, I would be saying daddy and grandma forgive me. It was Herring land. But I did take a small amount of dirt when I left, and want that with me when I go.

People might think its strange that I am planning this. And no, I have no plans of leaving early-I just know how I want it. Maybe then people will understand me even more. There is an old saying that I found that I truly believe in: Never explain. Your friends won't need it and your enemies won't believe you anyways.

I want the people who might only know me a little bit, to try and understand me. Those that didn't go to Kemper with me, and don't know all my "rooms." (verse layers of an onion; I like the idea of rooms in a house). So maybe this will help. And to my friends, it will enlighten I am sure, although I don't need it with you guys.

So ends the first track.