Friday, November 1, 2019
I had a friend and co-worker, Lynnette, who was in love with Clay Walker. I wasn't in love with him (shoot, I didn't even know him!) but I heard a song on my car radio in 1993 as I was pulling into a parking spot at West Acres Mall in Fargo (yea, memory is inexplicable) and I thought I knew the singer, but I actually didn't. (Remember the days when you'd hear a new song on the radio and you'd try to pinpoint the artist, and then it turned out it was someone brand-new? Clay Walker was brand-new.)
I stopped before I turned off the ignition and listened:
There was an exhilaration in his voice that was mesmerizing. I can understand why Lynnette loved him.
Clay's recordings were eternally optimistic and that was refreshing.
This one is a bit different, and I like it almost as much as I like "What's It To You":
Shall we date ourselves?
Clay Walker is still going strong, as evidenced by the news on his site.
I like that we don't just go away; that we keep going. That latest twenty-year-old can't erase us. I was older than Clay when I first him on my car radio and I'm still here.
I'm not impressionistic like Clay Walker was in his heyday, but I like to be reminded that brightness still exists.
I wonder if Clay is still that idealist.
I hope so.
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