The American Spectator

/blockquote> br> And if the disc jockey finishes off that quartet with Toby Keith and Willie Nelson singing what must have become an anthem for our boys in Iraq, “Beer for My Horses,” why, you’ll be setting off skyrockets in your car, bouncing up and down on the driver’s seat, and wiping your face just like Wendy and me. blockquote>Justice is the one thing you must always find br> You got to saddle up your boys, you got to draw a hard line. br> When the gunsmoke settles we’ll sing our victory tune, br> Then we’ll all go back to the local saloon. br> We’ll raise up our glasses against evil forces, singing, br> “Whiskey for my men and beer for my horses.” /blockquote>

COUNTRY MUSIC CAN DISAPPOINT, TOO. Twinkletoes marketing boys try to turn the music’s legendary common touch into a marketing technique, resulting in a distressing number of cold, calculating tunes (“Let’s see, it has to mention drinking, a farm, a car, religion…”) like Brooks and Dunn’s “Red Dirt Road.”

blockquote>It’s where I drank my first beer, br> It’s where I find Jesus. br> It’s where I wrecked my first car. br> I tore it all to pieces. /blockquote>