Tag Archives: Transformation

Family Tradition

1525648_10201579462302350_1795968485_nCountry songs often speak of white sand beaches, but rarely ever white snowy mountains. In a less than likely way it was a snow covered mountain that brought me to become a fan of country music. This was always the longest two-hour drive of my young life, and the only thing that could make it manageable was music put onto CDs by my parents. My musical taste was completely based on exposer. A 2003 Toyota Sequoia with a rocket box full of skis on top and my family inside is where music lived for the Holter family. The musical taste of my family was clearly defined about once a month when a new CD was loaded in the player in the car to make the journey to the mountain seem a little shorter. To me each ski playlist was like looking into my parent’s billboard of great music. This small amount of ski music consisted mostly of bands similar to The Beatles, The Coasters, NSYNC, and Queen, but there was typically a country song or two sprinkled in. My Dad reluctantly insisted that “Mom just ended up liking these songs when we were living in Atlanta and Austin.” It was clear that these twangy songs held a special plate in his heart as well. When one of these southern songs would play the car would begin to accelerate as his foot begin to tap on the accelerator.  This left me in a strange place torn between what each parent liked. I didn’t know if I should enjoy Hank Williams’ “Family Tradition” and Garth Brook’s “Friends in Low Places,” like my Mom, or if I should just wait for yellow submarine to play like my Dad did. Choosing my father’s side, I decided that I had no real need for country music in my life. I continued to be indifferent to country music until one long car ride changed my opinion forever. I wasn’t even in the car.

My Dad was on his way back from a short work trip in Omaha, Nebraska, and drove all night with the hopes of being home for football Sunday. As I was trudging towards the bathroom more asleep than awake, he looked at me with wide and said “come watch this.” Brushing away the sleep from my eyes I sat down in his office as he pulled open YouTube and typed in “Luke Bryan- We Rode in Trucks.” Without saying anything he clicked on the music video that would change my opinion about country music forever.  As the smooth guitar chords began to be strummed, and Luke Bryan’s country voice started telling me a story about his upbringing, I was hooked and so was my Dad. Now my parent’s CDs were littered with country music that I came to love. Each time we drove up skiing I felt ready to go out and ride a horse or something, but instead I just rode my skis. Thanks to Nebraska’s radio selection I learned to walk the line, how the thunder rolls all because it was part of a new family tradition.

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