I’m sad about Toby Keith. Sadder than I expected to be. I like his music and own a couple of his CDs. I never saw him in concert. It seems a shallow fandom if you can even call it that. But his death has dominated my conversation the past couple of days so I guess his impact runs deeper than I thought.
I spent my teen-aged summers with the cool of country music in a literal and figurative sense. During those hot and humid months I stayed inside, enjoying the A/C and CMT. Country music was “in” again with the likes of Garth Brooks and Faith Hill.
My daddy left a list of chores for my brothers and me when school was out. One of mine was to iron clothes. I would set up the ironing board in front of our living room TV and watch country music videos, singing along as I pressed collars, creased pants and fixed them onto clothes hangers. Thirty years later, those video images are still vivid. I have a random but distinct memory of my cousin Lori driving us to school in her white Toyota Paseo with “Should Have Been a Cowboy” playing on the local radio station, WZZK with hosts Patti and Dollar Bill.
My favorite Toby Keith tunes are the patriotic ones. I can’t listen to “American Soldier” without crying. After dinner Tuesday night Jeff and I found a video for “Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue” and let (made) AK and Lily listen. We talked about the “sucker punch” and how that song expressed what so many in our country felt. We were living every emotion imaginable, anger included. The video of concertgoers and troops pumping fists into the air and shout-singing the words captured the spirit of that moment in history. Not everyone liked the lyrics, including the very public view of ABC News Anchor Peter Jennings. We told the girls that was OK too because in America we’re allowed different opinions.
Jeff and I have reminisced through videos and songs but one in particular has stayed with me for a couple of days. It’s one I hadn’t seen until my friend Lee sent it to me. The song is titled “Don’t Let the Old Man In” and was inspired by a conversation Toby had with actor Clint Eastwood. The performance I watched was from the People’s Choice Country Music Awards last September.
As Toby sings, the cameras cut to his wife. She’s singing gently from her seat in the audience and wiping tears from her eyes. You can almost feel the weight of his cancer battle. Did they know he was at the end? Did they accept that this would be one of his final curtain calls?
I’ve heard and read a lot of tributes to Toby Keith from my friends who were devoted fans, from country music stars, celebrities, and from radio announcers as I sat in car line to pick up my daughters from school:
Legend.
Maverick.
Icon.
Patriot.
My favorites are:
Loyal husband.
Proud father.
Friend.
Most of us are not going to be remembered for moments in the spotlight the way Toby Keith has been memorialized this week. That doesn’t mean our lives are wasted.
I’m writing a book about my daddy and his legacy of faith. The only stage he ever took was a creaky wooden platform set up in our church fellowship hall for a “country supper” in the late 80s. Daddy entertained the crowd with a comical performance of Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues” complete with a giant cardboard guitar and toy choo-choo train.
Music may not have been his jam but mom tells me daddy had a sharp talent for baseball. He made the high school team but didn’t get to play because his parents couldn’t afford the uniforms. His worth was never celebrated with sports stats or chart toppers. Still, he was successful in his own right. His achievements look like this:
Labored in coal mines to provide for his family.
Cheered his kids at ballgames and band concerts.
Mailed cards to friends who were lonely or sick.
Cared for his quadriplegic brother.
Overwhelmingly daddy is remembered for the way he prayed for people, sometimes long and loud at church but mostly in quiet at our kitchen table. His legacy isn’t applauded in the public eye but that doesn’t diminish its worth. Not only did daddy leave his mark on this world, he made an impact for the next one.
I’m sad about Toby Keith. Still, I can’t help but smile when I remember. His music will forever take me back home to simple summers and singing along in front of our living room TV.
And to a life with my daddy still in it.
