My teenage daughter loves the Disney Channel series, "Hannah Montana Forever", and I admit that the show isn't too awful bad (but it would have been better if they hadn't written Billy Ray Cyrus into his daughters series in the first episode). The other day enduring the popular tween hit paid some nice dividends when Sheryl Crow made a surprise guest appearance.
It will come as no surprise to anyone here that I am addicted to lovely women of all stripes, but I have had a particular hankering for Ms. Crow dating back to the 1993 release of her debut album, Tuesday Night Music Club. Her effective blend of rock, folk, country and pop melodies has won her nine Grammy Awards, in addition to other accolades, and my poor heart.
We also share the EXACT same birthday, and we are both from Southern states, which I imagine is the universes way of rubbing crap in my face. I mean honestly, it's like some cosmic entity shanghaied our nascent unborn spirits and sent Sheryl towards enduring & well-earned fame, and tossed me onto the backroads of life, doomed to walk the Earth minus my one true soulmate. Now, before some smartass posts a comment about my declining mental status, let me assure you that I'm not planning to stalk the lovely lady or anything unhealthy. I simply insist on calling it like I see it, since I'm stuck either way. You see, Sheryl Crow meets every... single... requirement on my preferences list and that fact has been slowly squeezing the joy out of me for many moons. She's talented, intelligent, beautiful, sexy and... hang on a minute.... I spilled some of my Tequila. (I knew I should have stopped with that second bottle, but Sheryl occasionally has that effect on me.)
I often take solace in listening to her tunes and checking out each new glimpse of her the media deems fit to offer, and lest I'm struck down by a deadly accurate lightning bolt for temerity in saying so; other than the All Mighty himself (because frankly there would be no point in raising objection to the creator), once I pass into the great beyond, should I ever happen upon another cosmic entity who foolishly takes credit for trifling with what would likely have been celebrated as a historic pairing - I'm gonna kick the living shit out of it.
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