An Open Letter to Tim McGraw

Tim,

It will come as no surprise to anyone that's spent more than five minutes with me in real life (5% country mouse, 95% city mouse), that I am not a big fan of country music. Or rather, the syrupy crap that passes for country music these days (Johnny Cash and Patsy Cline are the shit).

Still, there's a big difference between "not being a fan" and wanting to put my fist through a stereo speaker.

I was getting an adjustment at the chiropractor when your song, "Live Like You Were Dying" came over the radio when I became instantly agitated.

Because I would wager that when people get diagnosed with something, they they formulate a treatment plan with their new team of doctors immediately start following said plan rather than drop their whole life to go sweetmercifulcrapping skydiving or mothereffing BULLRIDING.

It seems to me that until you actually get diagnosed with a potentially lethal disease yourself, people have a tendency to romanticize these sorts of things. "If I get diagnosed with cancer, I'm gonna see the pyramids of Egypt, write that novel, go bungee jumping."

Getting cancer doesn't suddenly relieve you of your responsibilities, open up your calendar, and drop a briefcase stuffed with money and plane tickets in your lap. Quite the opposite, in fact. And I'm sorry, as I've said before, it's a sad state of affairs if it takes something like cancer to get your priorities straight (family is more important than work, etc).

So Tim, pardon my lack of gentility (I am a Yankee, afterall), but stick to singing about subjects about which you actually know something and STFU about the other stuff.

Hoping you never have to "live like you were dyin',"
Crankymouth