Picture it: Sicily, 1854. (that's a shout-out to Sophia Petrillo, of course.) As I was cruising the Kansas turnpike after dinner with Mama Cherryholmes, I decided I needed to send out a few words about the current Golden Girl of Country Music. It's not Taylor Swift or Carrie (she was my American Idol first, people!) Underwood, but Miranda Lambert. I don't normally buy entire cd's anymore, because frankly, I have been a little disappointed as of late. I usually end up enjoying 3-4 songs out of 12 and then I kick myself in the shin twice. (That's not true. I usually kick a chair. Or a foot stool.) I won't drop any names, but let's just say a certain sister duo was hurtin' for certain without Natalie Maines. After my burning LOVE for Dead Flowers, White Liar and The House That Built Me (hello, 1154 S. Arthur!) I decided it was time to drop the dollars for Miranda's REVOLUTION album. SIDE NOTE: I was crusing the Lambert section of Wal*Mart for Adam (the other Lambert)'s cd, as I prepare to attend his concert tomorrow in Wichita... as well as protest the Fred Phelps protestors. Not familiar with Phelps & Co? Click here, but it isn't pretty. It's ugly and filled with hate, and I plan to fight back with LOVE. It is, after all, an army. And the only house big enough for all the pain in the world. So... driving home through the Flint Hills I joined the Revolution de Miranda, full throttle. While I'll stop short of calling her a lyrical genius (because I'm not a critic, and that just sounds corny), I will scream from the mountain tops my love for this disc. (I've called it a cd, an album and a disc. Did you notice that? I like to keep things fresh 'round these parts.) And about those mountain tops. That was an overstatement, because I live in Kansas. But I did scream it from the Flint Hills. Then it just seemed unsafe, and I wasn't going to risk my life professing a love for my latest purchase. Bottom line? Buy the album. Tell Miranda I sent ya... that's the way that the world goes 'round.
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