Ben Wyman

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I Hope One Story Explains Everything

A longtime friend and I went out to visit a mutual friend out at her lake house this weekend. I don't want to slag the weekend, I had by and large, a pretty good time. But I think this story is a fairly accurate cross-section of what my weekend was like.

The girl that we went to visit had snagged a couple of the burned CDs from my car to listen to on the trip out. She still had them in her 6-disc changer while we were out there, and as it was flipping through, one of them came on. As Sufjan Stevens started playing "Chicago," she suddenly noticed it.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," she said, turning to me. "I listened to your CDs on the way out, and there's... I dunno, one or two good songs on them, but mostly it was all just pretty lame."

She hit the "Disc Change" button, and the Dixie Chicks' Fly came on and "Goodbye Earl" started up.

"Oh my God, I know every word to this song!" she squealed, pounding me on the arm.
"Hey, is this the Dixie Chicks?" asked my friend excitedly from the backseat, leaning forward between the seats. "This is amazing!" They both begin singing loudly and bopping their heads along to the rhythm, raising their hands to the ceiling.

"She held Wanda's hand
As they worked out a plan
And it didn't take long to decide
That Earl had to die!"

"Woo!" screams my friend, grabbing my arm as the song reached the bridge. "Why aren't you singing? Don't you know the words?"