Country 101

When I was a younger oleh lifeguarding at the pool, I played music during my shifts. I didn’t care what people wanted to hear and I didn’t take requests. But I noticed that every time I played country music — real country, not the overly polished crap — I’d get a not-so-subtle thumbs-up from someone walking in or a nod from a swimmer adjusting his goggles. 

Israelis may not be able to tell George Strait from Hank Williams, but they know country’s themes. I witness them every time I stop at 101. 

Nashville. We need a Nashville. 

Mitzpe Ramon is perfect for this. The desert is outlaw. I can see dive bars where gritty country meets stirring tones of Israeli folk. You’ll walk from club to club, hearing different artists, a place where music spills out onto the street and every haunt offers something different while all breathe raw truth.

That’s my dream. In the meantime, I’m going to keep playing country, knowing some get it even if they may not know why the midnight train is whining low.