Why do I always forget how motivating music is?
Turn up the music, and I can actually clean the kitchen faster; mow the yard without pause; wash a hog barn cleaner than my kitchen; and lose the afternoon funk while driving a tractor.
I've heard it said that good music doesn't have an expiration date, and I believe it. One look at my playlist proves music is timeless.
I don't have sorted playlists -- my genre is everything. I run the gamut from Meatloaf to Crystal Gayle; Fleetwood Mac to Chris Stapleton. Oftentimes, Johnny, Willie and Waylon have to share the stage with Bruno Mars. They are all hanging out backstage, and I never know who will sing next; but from the first beat, I'm all in.
The acoustics in the good ole John Deere 4640 Sound-Gard cab must be top-notch. On more than one occasion, while I'm belting out some Tanya Tucker, I've contemplated moving to Nashville to start my singing career.
Nothing makes moving hogs easier than a few "Saturday Night Fever" dance moves down the alley when the Bee Gees take the stage in my headphones. The first song on my playlist as I walk into a dirty hog barn wielding my pressure-washing wand is always Johnny Lee cranking out some "Cherokee Fiddle."
Often, I wonder if my husband, Chris, messes with my playlist. It never seems to fail that every time I'm about out of energy, Lynn Anderson begins whispering in my ear: "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden."
I'm listening everywhere I go for more songs to add to my playlist. But, if I really want to dance to my own tune, I call up a longtime Charley Pride favorite that I consider my own personal theme song: "I'm Just Me."
-- Jennifer (Jent) Campbell can be found dancing to her own tune from her Indiana farm, where she writes a blog called Farm Wife Feeds (farmwifefeeds.com). Follow her on Twitter @plowwife and on the podcast @girlstalkag.
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