One of my earliest memories is riding in the car with my dad and listening to both of George Strait's greatest hits cassette tapes. We weren't allowed to talk when "The Chair," my dad's favorite of George's songs, played. I was content to oblige; it is such a romantic song that I am even more fond of now, compared to what I had the capacity to understand as a four year old.
During one of our drives to Dallas, while listening to the first of George's greatest hits albums, "Amarillo by Morning" began to play. When he sang the lyrics, "I lost my wife and a girlfriend somewhere along the way," I earnestly wanted to know where he left them if they were lost. That was pretty adorable, admit it. And when I asked my dad to share his thoughts on the matter, he just laughed. I was lacking some life experience to help me fully appreciate what George really meant.
When George toured through Texas in the late 90s, one of his stops was at Texas Stadium (in Irving). Dad, who has been a cop in Irving since time was first recorded, had the opportunity to provide security work at the show. Between sets, Dad encountered George backstage and proceeded to tell him the story of his four year old daughter asking exactly where he lost that wife and girlfriend of his. Dad reported that George doubled over from laughter.
While I have not traditionally been an avid fan of the Country Western (do they even call it that anymore?) genre, I will always have a tender spot in my heart for George Strait. He plays his final show in north Texas tonight, and I wish I could say I'll be there.