In the strange, convoluted new world of my life as an author, Blake Shelton has played a part. Yes, that Blake Shelton. Do you ever wonder why? I sure do. I ask myself that question whenever I think about the guy. Since it started, though, I’ve renounced my Hillbilly Bones, reconciled with my Hillbilly Bones, forgot completely about Blake Shelton and was again reminded of his existence when a friend asked me if I was going to go on the Blake Shelton cruise.
“Nah,” I replied. “I’m over him.”
“I’ll buy your cabin if you are strapped for cash,” she offered. “You were really excited about him for a while there.”
Now that’s a generous offer.
I put it out to my guy who said, “You don’t like Country and Western music.”
I replied, “Yeah, but Blake Shelton is going to be there!”
“So,” he said.
“I want to meet him!” I enthused.
“Whatever,” he commented, walking away. “I think we can find better things to do with our time and money.”
I’m sure we can, but….it’s a free cabin! Once again, I am considering the offer. But there’s still those nagging matters of:
- I love adventure and don’t care for cruises.
- I don’t care for CW music. I mean, I TRY to like it, I really do. But I was raised on a different kind of rhythm. You can’t change your rhythms mid-stream…can you?