I didn’t want to use the same title because that’s lazy, and I didn’t want to make a new one because I’m lazy, so I used a glib and not especially witty one which is also lazy. Deal with it.
Alan Jackson – Where I Come From
My mustache allows me to say incredibly stupid things because people assume the mustache said it. It’s foolproof.
The Message You’re Supposed To Get:
I’m a down-homey kind of guy with family traditions and momma’s own cooking and all that good stuff.
Alan Jackson actually has a disproportionately high number of really stupid songs. This is by no means the worst. The song starts out with Jackson on the Jersey Turnpike, driving his rusty old truck at a little after midnight. He gets pulled over by a cop who informs him that he was going over the limit, and the cop then enquires, “I don’t know about that accent boy, just where do you come from?” Alan’s response is, verbatim, as follows:
Where I come from, it’s cornbread and chicken,
Where I come from, a lotta front porch sittin’
Where I come from, tryin’ to make a livin’
And workin’ hard to get to heaven
Where I come from
I personally have been pulled over 13 times and not once has the cop asked me about my accent, but had he done so, this would probably mot be my first response. Most cops do not wish to be sung to about your hometown. Jackson, however, chooses to enlighten this one as to not only his diet but choice of leisure activities and religious goals, seemingly with no consequences.
This license is great and all, but tell me: What do they eat in your hometown?
In the second verse he is asked whether he enjoyed the biscuit he just had at a restaurant, and in the third verse he is “chasin’ sun…somewhere around Ventura” and has apparently “lost a universal joint and had to use my finger.” I think he is talking about some kind of automotive malfunction that led him to hitchhike, but nonetheless a woman pulls over and asks him what he’s doing for dinner. He tells the biscuit woman that he doesn’t like her cooking, momma’s was better, and tells the woman in the car that he prefers girls that “sing soprano,” both before launching obliviously once again into his chorus.
Sorry, no. Maybe if your voice was lower.
The Message Alan Gives You:
Insult everyone you come into contact with, especially if they are asking you innocent questions or offering casual conversation.
I don’t think this really needs more explanation, but if you need more evidence check out the lyrics yourself. Note the subtle mutilation of your brain that happens in verse four, which is about truckers and rhymes the words “Tulsa” and “salsa” in an apparent desperate attempt to produce a series of words that will suffice as a fourth verse. I don’t know if Jackson had a minimum time limit set on this song or if he was stoned off his ass, but the results are not pretty.
Cop – “Excuse me sir, do you know how fast you were going?”
Alan Jackson – “I enjoy both cornbread and chicken.”
“I sit on my porch a lot”
“What you are saying is not even a little bit related to what I asked you even a little bit at all.”
“Just tryin’ to make a livin’.”
“Are you on drugs, sir?”
“Also I love Jesus.”
Alan Jackson has absolutely not the tiniest glimmer of a clue how to behave around…well, anyone.
Alan Jackson – Country Boy
You don’t get another picture. Look at the first one, it’s the same guy.
The Message You’re Supposed To Get:
This one doesn’t really have a message, so I’ll just walk you through it line by line.
Excuse me ma’am,
I saw you walking
I turned around
I’m not a stalker.
At this point I should emphasize that telling someone without solicitation that you are neither threatening nor terrifying will only serve to threaten and terrify them. This effect is known as the Being Talked To By Guys With Dark Glasses And Mustaches Syndrome and is accentuated if you have the mother of all creepy smiles while you say it. This is actually the face he’s wearing when he says that line in the video.
Hey there. Don’t be afraid, I’ll be gentle.
Where you goin’, maybe I can help ya
My tank is full, I’d be obliged to take ya
Now all you’ve established is that you’re still creepy, you want to know where she’s going (kind of like a stalker would) and that you have enough fuel to kill her and get her across state lines before anyone asks questions.
Cause I’m a country boy, I got a four-wheel-drive
Climb in my bed, I’ll take you for a ride
Up city streets, down winding roads
I can take you where you need to go
Cause I’m a country boy.
Now there’s not a lot that can be read into this. There’s the obvious “bed” double entendre and the rest is about his car. In fact, the rest of the song is about his car and how soft his seats are and how she looks really good sitting in them and how she doesn’t have to get out just yet, we can totally just go into the woods and hang out. You seem nervous, what’s up?
Also, the video is absurd and has nothing at all to do with anything except Alan Jackson being weird in a junkyard. Observe.
Moral of the story: Alan Jackson is a very strange man who you would to well to avoid.
There’s one more of these on the way, and rest assured I saved the best for last.