A Spinoff of Imajinit's Blog
I started to reply to Michaels article on music, but decided against it when my comment exceded normal bounds.
The catalyst behind my tastes in music are no secret to me. It's not difficult to look back and see the impact all the people in my life had on me.
I think I've always had a love of music, as far back as I can remember. The only movies I enjoyed watching were musicals like Crybaby and Grease. I would stand in front of T.V. for hours trying to learn the dance moves and lyrics to every single song. The fact that it made my entire family want to slit their wrists is irrelevent.
My dad came from a family of blue grass. Many of our afternoons were spent listening to Great Uncle Eudel yodeling and playing his banjo at the Pick'n Shack. The Pick'n Shack was famous in the small town of Lefors, Texas. The walls were covered with signatures of generations past and every baby that had been born into the Gifford family since that house was built had their footprints in paint on the ceiling. A corn shucker stood in one corner of the main room and there was always plenty of food, even for strangers who just decided to walk in. In the bathroom cabinets were Elvis wigs and various odds and ends my cousins and I loved to play with. Further into the kitchen a framed picture hung on the wall of coyotes playing banjos with the words "Pick'n and 'a Grin'n" written above it. Genius.
My dad, though, was a completely different story. He worked as an auto glass laborer and traveled from state to state replacing windshields. On those beautifully rare occasions when I was allowed to travel with him on his route, he would purchase breakfast burritos from his favorite joint down the street, then we were off! The radio stayed on the entire trip, and was never to be changed from the classic rock station. My daddy knew every word to every single song that came on that radio, and I idolized him. As a teenager, he would hop on the bus and travel many miles just to attend the concerts of his favorite rockers. I would watch his stained black fingers (windshield glue) strum the steering wheel, and he would turn and smile at me knowing I, too, wanted to know those words. I wanted to be just like him.
A few years before those days, though, I lived in a car with my mom. We didn't have a car stereo, so we simply sat my boom box in the floorboard beneath my feet. That's how important music is in my family; we had very, very little money---and that went to batteries just so we could have music. Though the radio clearly belonged to me, my mom would have no part in listening to anything but country. To this day I could probably tell you every lyric to every country song written that year. I would pull my knees up under my tee-shirt, look up at the stars, and listen to the music mingled with rattling of plastic in my window (my dad had busted out the window with a tire jack during one of the more frightening fights).
My Uncle Matt, who was really more a father to me than my actual dad, played guitar at family get-togethers. My favorite song he would sing was, "Mind Your Own Business". He would let me sit on his lap, in front of everyone, and sing along. I even had a solo, "I have a little girl, she wears her hair up high, the boys all whistle when she walks by...Why don't you mind your own business..."
My older sister, Tiffanie, would come pick us up when she was a teenager and take us for long drives just for fun. That's how I got introduced to pop music. "All I wanna do is have some fun..." My brother, Kameron, became obsessed with rap music around the time I started highschool, and I followed suit. I used to be a die hard Eminem fan (how's that for a surprise, Muggaz?). Everyone in my family had a taste for the oldies, so there's no one person I can give that credit to. I had a small obsession with jazz for a while; I wanted more than anything to learn to play the harmonica---still do. In my mind, that's the most beautiful sound there is.
Around the time I joined my church in Tennessee, some friends of mine got me into Christian music. I don't consider this a genre by any means, just hang with me. It wasn't the cool Christian music, though. It was that cheezy, "When I call on Jesus" type music. It wasn't until I moved here, with my roomate Kami, that I was introduced to bands like Thousand Foot Crutch and such.
Sometimes I feel like there's just too much music to be explored, and just as soon as I think I've heard everything, something new is invented. I like it that way. What do I like now? EVERYTHING! I know alot of people say that, but with me, it's actually a true statement. There's not much you could present that I wouldn't tap my foot to. I picked up on punk rock and emo myself, not that those are my favorite genres. I really don't have a favorite genre; it all depends on my mood. Right now I feel like listening to a little Chris Isaak, "IIIIIIIII...wanna fall in love." 
Oh, and since I moved here with so many different ethnicities around, I've picked up on alot of foreign music. My favorite cd now is the one my friend, Enrico, made me of Italian love songs.
I'll write an article later of some artists or songs I enjoy...I just know you're a little curious.
Trinitie Tiearra Garrison