sing it Merle!

i remember riding in his Cheyenne Super 10,
it was two tone, blue and white..
he had put glass-packs on it,
dual exhaust that sounded like a race car..
my dad was still a kid in a few ways,
i would go to work with him during the summer,
hanging sheetrock was no fun
all he let me do was clean up the scrap,
and "spot" nails..cover the nails with drywall mud..
to this day i hate the smell of dry wall
there was always a little radio plugged in to an orange cord,
country music blaring all day long..
whenever Merle Haggard would come on,
somewhere in the house my dad would shout,
"Sing it Merle!"
he even looked like Merle Haggard..
my dad didn't like politicians, preachers, or painters
except for one painter he became good friends with,
he liked hard working people, local cops, and a few country singers..
he didn't like "new country"..
said it had lost its way,, lost its soul..
said "they don't sing about anything worth a damn."
i used to daydream of being a country singer,
maybe it was because I wanted my dad to like me..
i never thought about it like that before just now..

wkm
Nashville