Song of the day: "The House That Built Me" Miranda Lambert
Cue: Gigantic lump in the throat. Heard this one on the radio yesterday and immediately wanted to hear it again -- before it had even finished, a sure sign that I'd stumbled on a keeper. The other, and this is probably just the sentimentalist in me (I'm a great big old sissy, don't you know): I was blinking back the tears by the third verse.
And that completely blindsided me, out of nowhere. The radio was on, but it was really just background noise at that point. I had other things on my mind. At the moment, I was sitting at a red light on my way to Home Depot, making one final trip to pick up the last part I needed for the irrigation system I'd spent all weekend installing. The next thing I knew, the words stung me like no other and inexplicably sent a river of saltwater streaming down my cheeks.
Well, it wasn't all that inexplicable, really, if you want to know the truth. The sentiment struck a deafening chord: It's about feeling lost in your life and longing to reconnect to a simpler time in your past when everything was -- as Vonnegut once put it -- beautiful, and nothing hurt.