Chicken Soup for the Soul: Country Music: The Inspirational Stories behind 101 of Your Favorite Country Songs

by Jack Canfield

  KTG: We finished it and I took the song to Cliff Audretch over at Sony. They liked me at Sony because I had a hit with Patty Loveless. So I was pitching the song for Patty. I played it for Cliff and he said, “No. I don’t hear this song for Patty.” I was getting ready to be really depressed. Then he said, “But I really hear it for Collin Raye.” I said, “You’re kidding? Really?” Fortunately, he’s a great A&R guy and he was absolutely right. Even though Joie and I took the song in a romantic direction on purpose, the chorus has such a bigger meaning. The whole song has a much bigger meaning. We knew that Collin Raye, because he has such a wonderful heart, would get that. And he showed that with the way they did the video. In the video, there were people in wheelchairs and a Holocaust survivor with a number branded on his arm, and it was very moving.

  JS: So Collin cut the song and it went to #1 in 1996. He included it on his greatest hits album and it’s been recorded by a number of other artists since then. A little while after that, I began toying with the idea of moving to Nashville, which I eventually did. But I came here the first time on a dare. Someone actually dared me to go to Nashville because they said it was so “not me.” But it ended up being an incredible, overwhelming experience, for a lot of reasons. One of the things that really struck me was there was this huge rainbow across the sky. It was a sign to me that said: “I’m doing the right thing. I am in the right place.” And, the name of the school in Chicago — Keshet — it’s the Hebrew word for “rainbow.”

  Not That Different

  She said we’re much too different; we’re from two separate worlds

  And he admitted she was partly right

  But in his heart’s defense he told her what they had in common

  Was strong enough to bond them for life

  He said “Look behind your own soul and the person that you’ll see

  Just might remind you of me”

  CHORUS:

  I laugh, I love, I hope, I try

  I hurt, I need, I fear, I cry

  and I know you do the same things too

  So we’re really not that different, me and you

  She could hardly argue with his pure and simple logic

  But logic never could convince a heart

  She had always dreamed of loving someone more exotic

  and he just didn’t seem to fit the part

  So she searched for greener pastures but never could forget

  What he whispered when she left

  CHORUS

  BRIDGE:

  Was it time or was it truth

  Maybe both led her back to his door

  As her tears fell at his feet

  She didn’t say “I love you” what she said meant even more

  CHORUS

  Old Dogs, Children and Watermelon Wine

  Story by Tom T. Hall

  Song written by Tom T. Hall

  Recorded by Tom T. Hall

  I wrote this song in 1972, during the Democratic National Convention in Miami Beach, Florida. There was a park across the street from the convention center called Flamingo Park. They hired me, and George Jones and Tammy Wynette — this was when they were still together — and Ray Price to entertain. It was a daytime show that started late in the afternoon.

  One of the interesting things that happened that day was, when the show was over, I gave away my P.A. system. We were having a lot of trouble with it that day, so I told the audience, which was composed of hippies and yippies and other partying types of that era, that they could have the P.A. system, and they took us up on it. We picked up our instruments and got on the bus and the crowd came on stage and carried away the P.A. system. I could see people walking off with mikes and stands and speakers and monitors. It just all disappeared into the night in Miami.

  I went back to the hotel where we were staying. The convention was going on, so there were hardly any people in the hotel that night. This must have been about 9:00 or 10:00 at night and I decided to have a nightcap, so I walked into the little bar there in the lobby. There were only two people in there. The bartender was watching Ironsides on television, and he was standing there in a very theatrical pose, watching the show and cleaning one glass over and over, which is what bartenders do when they want to look busy.

  I went over and ordered a drink. I remember it was Seagram’s 7, Canadian blended whiskey, just like in the song, I went back and sat down and there was this old, African-American gentleman who was there cleaning up. There was very little to do there that evening, so he came over to my table and wiped off my table and said, ‘Do you mind if I sit down?” I said, “No, go right ahead.”

  He said, “How old do you think I am?” That’s where the song begins.

  We talked until my drink was finished. I said goodnight and went back to my room. But before I left, I wrote the words “watermelon wine” on my bar napkin and stuck it in my jacket pocket.

  The next morning, I got on a plane for Atlanta on my way back to Nashville. On my way up to Atlanta, I was looking for something in my pocket, and I found that napkin. I had nothing to do on the plane and I started looking for something to write on. The band was on the bus and they were driving back to Nashville, but I had a recording session in Nashville that next day so I had to fly back. I didn’t have much with me. I got a sick bag out of the seat pocket in front of me and started writing.

  I wrote down exactly what happened, which is the way I write most story songs. I let whoever is listening figure out what it was all about. I knew he said that he had turned sixty-five eleven months ago. I didn’t know what that line meant; I just knew he said that. I put it in the song, and later I realized that he was probably telling me that he was retired and maybe on retirement or social security and didn’t need the job, that he was just killing time or picking up some extra change.

  I went into the recording session the next day and told Jerry Kennedy, “Here’s a song I wrote on the plane,” and he liked it, so we cut it. I think the song was less than 24 hours old when I recorded it, but it turned out to be a pretty good song for me.

  Old Dogs, Children and Watermelon Wine

  “How old do you think I am?” he asked. I said, well, I didn’t know.

  He said “I turned sixty-five about eleven months ago.”

  I was sittin’ in Miami pourin’ blended whiskey down

  When this old grey black gentleman was cleanin’ up the lounge

  There wasn’t anyone around ’cept this old man and me

  The guy who ran the bar was watching Ironsides on TV

  Uninvited he sat down and opened up his mind

  On old dogs and children and watermelon wine

  “Ever had a drink of watermelon wine?” he asked.

  He told me all about it though I didn’t answer back

  “Ain’t but three things in this world that’s worth a solitary dime

  That’s old dogs and children and watermelon wine.”

  He said, “Women think about theyselves when menfolk ain’t around

  And friends are hard to find when they discover that you’re down.”

  He said, “I tried it all when I was young and in my natural prime

  Now it’s old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

  Old dogs care about you even when you make mistakes

  God bless little children while they’re still too young to hate”

  When he moved away, I found my pen and copied down that line

  ’Bout old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

  I had to catch a plane up to Atlanta that next day

  As I left for my room I saw him pickin’ up my change

  That night I dreamed in peaceful sleep of shady summertime

  Of old dogs and children and watermelon wine

  Old Hippie

  Story by David Bellamy

  Song written by David Bellamy

  Recorded by the Bellamy Brothers

  At the time we wrote the first version of this song, we were probably too young
to be called “Old Hippies,” but now we definitely aren’t. The song came from our backgrounds, mine and my brother Howard’s, and a lot of what our friends went through, too. It was more of a composite character, really. We had one friend who had come home from Vietnam a few years before, and another one who was out doing some illegal things, and then there was the adjustment to the changing music that came from our perspective, so we drew from several different people.

  I didn’t think this song would be a hit. The only person I showed it to was Howard, and I remember saying, “I don’t know if this will work for a single or even an album cut, but I wanted to show it to you because it means a lot to me personally.” And he said, “Oh, man, this is a great song.” Then we showed it to our producer, Jimmy Bowen, and he said, “That’s pretty cool. It’s different.”

  When we put it out, it became a hit pretty fast. When we play a show, these guys who were probably 70 or 75 years old would come up to us and say, “Man, you wrote that song about me.” I always thought that was funny, because this was in 1985. I thought it was weird that so many people would relate to it from different age groups. Even now, people come up and say the same thing.

  Thirty or forty years ago, it seemed that most people were into the same kinds of things, but now everything is so fragmented. Howard and I still live in our own era. I am pretty open-minded about new music, but I don’t hear much that is on a par with what I consider the really great music that came out of the 1960s and 1970s. That’s why it says, “disco leaves him cold” and “he’s got friends into new wave,” and so on. So the song is a composite of a whole generation that was getting older.

  I thought it was strange that it did so well in the country market, because it had references to John Lennon and so many things outside the country market, but the radio stations started playing it and it never stopped. It still gets a lot of airplay today.

  In 1995, we did “The Sequel,” and had references to Bill Clinton and his presidency, and Woodstock II, Billy Ray and Garth, and things like that. It did pretty well, also. One of the reasons I decided to do the sequel was because people kept writing newer versions of the song and sending them to me. I wish I had saved them because there were literally hundreds of them. This was before e-mail, and people would just type up new lyrics and send them to me, so I thought maybe we should do an updated version. I still get people re-writing it to this day.

  We did a gospel album in 2007 and did the third version: “Old Hippie: Saved.” Together, we call them “The Trilogy.” The last one is not as well known as the first two, but it really reflects where we are now.

  Old Hippie

  He turned thirty-five last Sunday and in his hair he found some gray

  But he still ain’t changed his lifestyle. He likes it better the old way

  So he grows a little garden in the back yard by the fence

  He’s consuming what he’s growing nowadays in self defense

  He gets out there in the twilight zone

  Sometimes when it just don’t make no sense

  He gets off on country music ‘cause disco left him cold

  He’s got young friends into new wave, but he’s just too friggin’ old

  And he dreams at night of Woodstock and the day John Lennon died

  How the music made him happy and the silence made him cry

  Yeah he thinks of John sometimes

  And he has to wonder why

  CHORUS:

  He’s an old hippie

  and he don’t know what to do

  Should he hang on to the old?

  Should he grab on to the new?

  He’s an old hippie.

  This new life is just a bust

  He ain’t trying to change nobody

  He’s just trying real hard to adjust

  He was sure back in the sixties that everyone was hip

  Then they sent him off to Vietnam on his senior trip

  And they forced him to become a man while he was still a boy

  And behind each wave of tragedy he waited for the joy

  Now this world may change around him

  But he just can’t change no more

  CHORUS

  Well, he stays away a lot now from the parties and the clubs

  And he’s thinking while he’s joggin’ ’round

  He sure is glad he quit the hard drugs

  Cause him and his kind get more endangered everyday

  And pretty soon the species will just up and fade away

  Like the smoke from that torpedo, just up and fade away

  CHORUS

  •••

  Old Hippie II: The Sequel

  He’ll be forty-five come Wednesday and his gray hair is getting thin

  But he’s still hanging in there, don’t feel too bad for the shape he’s in

  He’s seen yuppies in the White House, but he thinks they’re gonna fail

  He just don’t trust a President that never has inhaled

  And he prays to God to stop his crime

  but it seems to no avail

  Well, he still loves country music, but he’s been left out in the dark

  ’Cause they don’t play Merle and George no more. He don’t know Billy Ray from Garth

  And he’s heard of Woodstock II, but it never could compete

  ’Cause he was there the day that Hendrix played the anthem with his teeth

  Back when all those grunge bands

  couldn’t even keep a beat

  CHORUS:

  He’s an old hippie

  Even older than before

  Wondering what to pay attention to

  And what should be ignored

  He’s an old hippie

  Still adjusting to the change

  He’s just trying to find some balance

  In a world gone totally insane

  He still thinks back on the sixties, but not in the same way

  ’Cause they built a wall to his war, then forgot the MIA’s

  And he’s trying to be a nice man but it’s too much of a bore

  Cause fax machine and cell phones ain’t what he was put here for

  And in a world selling sex and youth, he’s the last old dinosaur

  CHORUS

  Well, he comes on home from work now, takes some time up with the kids

  Try to teach them right from wrong, hope they don’t learn it the way that he did

  And his eyes are on the future but it’s looking pretty sad

  And with every day that passes he becomes more like his dad

  Hopes that when this century turns around, things won’t be so bad

  CHORUS

  •••

  Old Hippie III: Saved

  He’ll be fifty-five this weekend, can’t believe he’s lived this long

  Now he hangs out with the grandkids, instead of tokin’ on his bong

  He still thinks about his crazy days, but thanks his God above

  That he’s traded in his loving for a greater kind of love

  He still shoots them that old peace sign, still gentle as a dove

  He loves all kinds of music, country rock with a little roll

  Nowadays he’s partial to the melodies that saved his soul

  Life has put him through the ringer; friends have fallen through the cracks

  And with all the trips he’s taken, he’s been to hell and back

  He don’t feel that cool no more; he don’t care and that’s a fact

  CHORUS:

  He’s an old hippie, getting older every day

  But his eyes are on the prize and his faith ain’t gonna stray

  He’s an old hippie, he knows what his life is for

  Trying’ to get right with The Man

  before he goes knockin’ on heaven’s door

  He’s confused by the issues from Vietnam to Desert Storm

  But he prays every night for the guys and gals in uniform

  He ain’t trying to convert you, just glad for y
our new start

  And he won’t be preaching to you like some born-again old fart

  He’ll just tell you about the love he’s found deep within his heart

  CHORUS

  Well, he skips the crowds and the gatherings, spends some quiet time alone

  His family is his universe, and heaven is his home

  He’s seen and done it all, been in the belly of the whale

  He’s looked the devil in the eye and sent him back to hell

  He thanks dear Jesus every day, that he’s lived to tell the tale

  CHORUS

  On Angel’s Wings

  Story by Karen Taylor-Good

  Song written by Karen Taylor-Good and Jason Blume

  Recorded by Collin Raye, Karen Taylor-Good

  The song was written about my mama, Molly Berke, who passed away in January of 2010. She had been suffering from dementia for the previous ten years. Earlier in her life, she belonged to Mensa, the society for people with high IQs. She was very proud of her smarts, and was just very, very sharp in a lot of ways. She ended up legally blind from macular degeneration and then we eventually had to move her to a dementia care unit.

  That whole journey just crushed me and made me very angry. I was railing at God half the time, crying a lot, and not understanding at all. . . until I went into a writer’s room at SESAC in Nashville with my co-writer Jason Blume, back in the early 2000s. He is also one of my dear friends, so just talking about it with him — and going through half a box of Kleenex — helped. I said, “I still believe that God is not mean and vindictive, but I just can’t see the purpose behind this.” I asked Jason, “Do you think we could write a song that would help me look at this differently?” This song was the gift we were given that day.