Long Cool Woman

The Hollies’ 1972 hit Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress, has always fascinated me. Until very recently (today, August 5, 2020, at 6:45 a.m.), I only kind of understood the lyrics.

Some dude working undercover for the FBI was in a club when all hell broke loose, and there was a pretty, tall woman wearing a black dress involved somehow.

Turns out, I was mostly right, but I always thought there was a bouncer involved and that the woman was also working undercover for a rival organization, maybe the KGB or the CIA, and was leading our hero on so that her side could triumph. In the end, I thought the two of them agreed to work together and lived happily ever after. My imagination filled in the blanks.

This morning I found a YouTube version of the song with lyrics. Now, 48 years after the fact, I know the whole truth and nothing but the truth. What a great song.

Peace, people!

Girl Crush

In my never ending quest for sexy musical inspiration for my romantic novel I discovered the absolutely delightful song, Girl Crush by the group, Little Big Town.

Even if you’re not a fan of country music, I think you’ll get a kick out of this song. Not only is it sexy, it’s also adorable and a little heart-breaking. I want to scream at the singer, “just be yourself!”

Loved this book cover!

Peace, people!

Lay, Lady, Lay

My cousin, Effron White, is an accomplished singer/songwriter in Nashville. He’s also a big Bob Dylan fan, and recently posed the question on Facebook, “What’s your favorite Bob Dylan song?”

I’m not that knowledgeable about Dylan’s body of work, but me being me, I had to weigh in. My choice? Lay, Lady, Lay.

Why? Because it’s one of the sexiest songs ever, and as I attempt to write a light romance novel, I’m in need of some sexy inspiration. The song paints quite a picture. Just close your eyes and listen.

Oh, and check out Effron White at Effronmusic.com.

Peace, people

A Time to Dance; A Time to Cry

I was so full of myself after finishing my first manuscript that I immediately began writing another. Actually, I have two going. One’s a sequel to book one and the other is a light romance. I’m still not sure how book one should be classified. Quirky, maybe. Is “quirky” a genre? If not, it should be.

The light romance is set in the panhandle of Texas, so to keep me in the mood I’ve been listening to country music. Alexa has begun to anticipate my needs, and for some reason Amazon is sending me ads for western wear. What a world, eh?

Occasionally, Alexa will play a song that forces me to get up and dance. Not to brag, but no one two-steps with an invisible partner as well as I do. And waltzing? Fuggetabout it! I’m surprised no one’s yet knocked on my door to award me first place in the imaginary partner category.

Some songs make me cry, though, and instead of dancing I sit in front of my computer and cry. Most recently that song was this one by Vince Gill. It breaks my heart every time.

This might not be the best version of the song because Vince breaks down and cries, but it’s become my favorite. “Go Rest High On That Mountain”

Peace, people.

Writing, Singing, and Crying

Lately when I write I’ve asked Alexa to play seventies music. Some days she selects pop, other days, country, and still others, folk. I can’t decide which genre I enjoy the most, but I do have some favorites: Bob Seger, Gordon Lightfoot, Linda Ronstadt, the Eagles, among others.

When Studly Doright chooses a station he always picks sixties music, and while I enjoy that decade’s offerings, there’s something about the 70’s tunes that speaks to me. Maybe it’s because I graduated high school in ‘75, and married Studly in ‘76. In the space of a year I went from childhood to adulthood with seventies music playing in the background.

The 63-year-old me often finds herself crying during certain songs. Today, John Denver’s Rocky Mountain High had me blubbering at my computer, and not long after that I completely lost it over Michael Martin Murphey’s Wildfire.

Am I mourning the loss of my youth? Surely not. That’s been gone for at least three decades. How about my close proximity to death. Naw. I’ve made my peace with the world.

Maybe it’s bigger than that. Maybe it’s the loss of our nation’s soul that’s gotten to me, and these songs remind me of a time that seemed so much simpler. Oh, I know the 70’s had their issues. They weren’t rosy by any means, but I was young enough to believe everything would turn out fine.

Now, I’m not so certain.

Peace, people.

The Perfect Country Song

Not too long ago I was visiting via FaceTime with my British friends and advisers, Shirley and Michael. At one point the discussion turned to country music. As a native Texan, albeit one who moved away from the Lone Star State to accompany my husband through many job transfers, I am somewhat knowledgeable about country music.

As a child and teenager I detested the genre. It seemed torture to be made to listen to whiny country western in the car when the Beatles might be playing on another radio station, just a turn of the dial away.

Remember, I’m 63.75 years old, so in my youth we didn’t have a way to listen to anything other than what the person in control of the radio, nearly always a parent or other stodgy adult, deemed suitable. Kids today have no idea how good they’ve got it.

But somehow, those songs and artists stuck with me. Patsy Cline, George Jones, Tammy Wynette, Johnny Cash—all are part of my history, and now their old songs are some of my favorites. My parents would be proud.

Back to my conversation with Michael and Shirley, though. I mentioned to them a country song I thought they, and their son, might get a kick out of—“You Never Even Called Me by My Name,” performed by the great David Allan Coe. Also known as “The Perfect Country Song,” this is a piece that must be listened to in its entirety to get the meaning. I’ll share it here. Enjoy.

David Allan Coe in his younger days. Now he’s 80, and I believe he’s still touring!

Peace, people!

Love in a Hot Afternoon

There are love songs, and then there are lust songs. I assure you, there’s a time and a place for both.

When I want to encourage and/or enhance a particular mood I ask Alexa to play slow, sexy R&B. Oh my. If I were the blushing kind of woman, the lyrics from that play list would have me glowing like a neon sign.

Yet, there’s an old country western song by Gene Watson that manages to get to me in ways that even the most explicit R&B lyrics never do. How can that be? I have a feeling the fiddle is to blame.


Is there a particular song that puts you in mind of a good romp in the sheets? Bonus points if the song includes a fiddle.

Peace and love, people.

You are the Sunshine of Your Love

“Before and After”

It’s a category on Wheel of Fortune, in which two words or phrases are related to the previous words or phrases in the puzzle. And, since I’ve already used one Before and After title this month, “All You Need is Love Me Do.” I can’t get the idea out of my mind.

Now, at night when I should be sleeping, I come up with before and afters:

Take the Long Way Home is Where the Heart Is

I heard it in a Love Song Sung Blue

I Will Always Love You Send Me

Don’t it Make My Brown Eyes Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain

Midnight Train to Georgia on my Mind

I could go on and on, but I’m trying to watch “Mad Men”. In this episode, Don Draper is having a hot time with his new wife, Megan. Maybe I can put Before and After out of my mind for a few hours. Or maybe “Mad Men at Work” will be my last attempt tonight.

Do you have any good Before and Afters? I’d love to know.

Here’s “Sunshine of Your Love,” by Cream to bring a little sense to my nonsense.


Peace and love, people!

Radar Love

As I steered my car around the backroad curves on my way home from Tallahassee to Doright Manor I found myself smiling. “Radar Love” was playing on the radio and I sang along while tapping out the rhythm on the wheel.


After “Radar Love” the next couple of songs on the ’70’s channel were duds, so I switched to the Beatles channel and caught the beginning of “Drive My Car.”



I began to wonder when cars were first equipped with radios. Thanks to Google I found this:

Although commercial car radios hit the market in the late 1920s, it wasn’t until Galvin Manufacturing Company (now known as Motorola) introduced the Motorola 5T71 radio that commercial car radios really became popular. (In fact, the name “Motorola” is a combination of the words “motor” and “Victrola.”)

Did you have any idea that “Motorola” was a combination of “motor” and “Victrola?” I certainly didn’t.

My first car, the ugly, flat green 1961 Ford Galaxie I called “Poopsie” had a working radio. It was AM only and barely picked up the local station. I’m surprised I was able to drive it at all without music pouring out of the speakers.

All of my subsequent cars had better radios; although, AM and FM both had their limits. Just as a groove got going I’d drive out of the station’s range and have to start the search for a new station all over again.

For over a decade now Studly Doright and I have subscribed to satellite radio, giving us a huge selection of music of all types. My favorite channels are the 60’s and 70’s stations along with The Beatles and Margaritaville. The best part of satellite radio? If life is a highway, I’m gonna ride it all night long, listening to the music I love. No interruptions

Peace and love, people.

Last Minute Ticket

Last night Studly Doright was out of town, so I had an entire evening to kill. I could’ve stayed home snuggled down with the cats, but as I scrolled through Facebook I saw an ad for a Sister Hazel concert in Tallahassee that very night. With one click I bought my ticket, threw on a clean T-shirt, and drove to the Ruby Diamond Auditorium on the campus of Florida State University.

Past experiences with buying a last minute single ticket have generally resulted in great seats. I’ve ended up in the fourth row before. Last night I was twelve rows from the stage and right in the middle. Not too shabby.

Fans of the band are dubbed “Hazelnuts” and there was a huge contingent of them in the audience. Sister Hazel was formed in Gainesville, Florida, in the early 90’s and played in Tallahassee regularly during their early years, so there were quite a few fond memories of the band’s partying days at FSU recounted from the stage.

By the end of the concert I was singing along, having become something of a Hazelnut myself.


(The band members are a bit older than in the YouTube video link, but still rocking strong.)

Peace, people!