Chicken Fried

A couple of weeks ago I had this dream. It was so realistic, I was convinced that it had happened. I put on this pair of hipster glasses, and I instantly became so attractive, I was certain I had become the sexiest woman alive. So certain, I was sitting at work the next morning, frowning as I searched for my "life-changing" glasses. It was an even weirder moment, when I realized that I've never actually Worn glasses at any point in my life.

I thought about titling this post "hoochie coochie" but to be honest, I'm not sure I know what it means. I thought it meant a kiss? But at the risk of being wrong...it's just fun to say. It's from a country song, "way down yonder on the Chattahoochee, it gets hotter than a hoochie coochie..." Still ambiguous, right?! Guesses??

I've become obsessed with country music this past week. It all started with Chattahoochee, my winning pick in the family trivia game. The obsession quickly spiraled to "Chicken Fried" on repeat. If you don't know it, you Need to listen to this song...so catchy. I also like "I'm Still A Guy" by Brad Paisley, best lyrics. All this country music made me really want a truck...bright red. In my mind I can totally see it-jeggings, chicken fried blaring, and my blonde hair blowing in the wind as I four-wheel it in my red pickup to go hiking...or biking...or maybe to Walmart...or Home Depot...or help stranded travelers on the road (kidding, dad!!! I'll leave that to the men). Sounds fun right?! I really want a truck...

Other notable highlights from the week-our ward started the BOM challenge and I'm right on track, I played so much tennis my back/butt is seriously sore (10,000 hours...just gotta get there), BYU actually won, tour of American Art at the Met, fall cleaning and hanging photos in the apartment, and the number one highlight: VIP access to a Lindsey Stirling concert. I honestly had no idea what I had agreed to when I said I'd attend a concert by an electric violinist...but epic, life-changing, and totally nerdy have probably never appeared in the same sentence until now. The crowd was almost all men-some stoners, some carrying pocket protectors, some grungy, some hardcore dancers, all rocking out in a massive pit of about 400 people, to Lindsey. We went backstage and met her, quite possibly the nicest person ever. So tiny! I can also say that I never thought I'd witness a massive sing-along to the theme song of Zelda (it's a nerdy gaming thing)...another concert highlight. Of course Lord of The Rings was played too. The encore was this amazing rendition of Phantom of the Opera. Special thanks to Aubrey Potter for the coolest/craziest thing I've experienced in the city.

Every day I listen to a new talk/devotional, from the list of about 200 that Grandpa Glenn gave me. I particularly liked the talk by Steve Albrecht, a professor at the BYU Marriott School. He began his talk by reading a poem/song, I've come to love. The poem was written by Sandy Chapin, who wrote it for her husband to make him realize the importance of spending time with your kids. It was later put to a melody, and topped the Billboard charts. It goes like this:

My child arrived just the other day, He came to the world in the usual way. But there were planes to catch and bills to pay, He learned to walk while I was away. And he was talkin' 'fore I knew it, and as he grew, He'd say "I'm gonna be like you dad, You know I'm gonna be like you".

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, Little boy blue and the man on the moon, When you comin' home dad? I don't know when, but we'll get together then son, You know we'll have a good time then.

My son turned ten just the other day. He said, "Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on let's play. Can you teach me to throw", I said "Not today, I got a lot to do", he said, "That's ok". And he walked away but his smile never dimmed, And said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah You know I'm gonna be like him".

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon. Little boy blue and the man on the moon. When you comin' home son? I don't know when, but we'll get together then son, You know we'll have a good time then.

Well, he came home from college just the other day. So much like a man I just had to say, "Son, I'm proud of you, can you sit for a while?" He shook his head and said with a smile, "What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys. See you later, can I have them please?"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, Little boy blue and the man on the moon. When you comin' home son? I don't know when, but we'll get together then son. You know we'll have a good time then.

I've long since retired, my son's moved away. I called him up just the other day. I said, "I'd like to see you if you don't mind". He said, "I'd love to, Dad, if I can find the time. You see my new job's a hassle and kids have the flu, But it's sure nice talking to you, Dad, It's been sure nice talking to you".

And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me, He'd grown up just like me, My boy was just like me.

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, Little boy blue and the man on the moon. When you comin' home son? I don't know when, but we'll get together then son. You know we'll have a good time then.

This song never fails to make me cry. I can't imagine what that father felt when he finally got around to making time for that relationship with his son, and realizing, much to his sadness, that it wasn't there, because he hadn't put in the time to show his son how much he loves him.Steve Albrecht sums up this song in one sentence:

"The only quality time we will spend with those we love is quantity time."

I have never been more grateful to my two parents, that literally sacrificed their own needs and desires, to spend as much Quantity time with me as can be humanly possible. The older I get, the more I realize what an impact that has made on my thoughts, dreams, desires and the strong bond we share. It's also caused me to realize, that I need to try harder with my siblings and friends, and build the quantity time I spend with them. My relationship with my parents is determined by all of the little quantity times-the talks we had while we drove to and from school, ate dinner together, went on hikes, drove home from my basketball and soccer games, school plays, playing catch in the backyard, swimming in grandpa's pool, learning to ski, and holding my hand as I looked for shells on the beach; not just the big occasions.

It's by small and simple moments, that I learn the most from those I spend them with...