A Lot Of Things Different

Last Monday I turned 60.  Sixty is a number that kind of wakes you up - jars you a little bit and makes you think.  60 trips around the sun.  I sat there and thought how could this be...  For a moment there, I became very introspective.  I don't really care about the grey hair or the decline in stamina or muscle tone.  That's just a given in aging.  Some of the things I care about are the following: Have I accomplished what I wanted to in the past 6 decades?  Are there still meaningful things to be done in the days that follow?  And while I'm thinking about this, what about all the stupid, bone-headed things I've done in 21,900 days that I regret?  Or the things I should've done but didn't?

I don't often go down the rabbit hole of regret.  I think regret is a fool's errand.  Regret, in my opinion, is only good if there is still time to do something about it to make things right.  I think Lucille Ball said it best in talking of regret when she said, "I'd rather regret the things I've done, than the things I haven't."  

You know, it's funny how sometimes when I am thinking about something, coincidences happen.  Thinking about regret for both things I've done and things I haven't, I was listening to a podcast where the host was asking the person he was interviewing what his top 5 favorite country songs were.  That made me curious and I turned it up.  The person answered and most of the songs he brought up, I had never thought of.  The only one I knew on his list was "Don't close your eyes" by Keith Whitley.

This gentleman that was being interviewed is a lyricist.  He writes music and pays close attention to lyrics and song meanings.  He said that his favorite country music song was "A Lot of Things Different" by John Conlee.  Now I know John Conlee.  I've sung along with him on the radio while listening to "Rose Colored Glasses" on my truck's radio turned up loud.  But I had never heard "A Lot of Things Different."  The guys on the podcast were saying that the lyrics on this song are hard to get through.  They are meaningful, emotional and raw.  You can feel the genuineness as he sings about doing things different.  So I couldn't resist and pulled it up to listen to.  Wow!  (I think I'd endorse every bit of what he's singing about, except maybe the part about skinny dipping with Jenny Carson.  Nothing good's gonna come of that!)

Anyhow, grab a box of tissues, press the arrow in the middle below and have a listen.  I've also posted the song lyrics farther below, but the words are easy to hear and understand.  John Conlee says he'd a done a lot of things different.  Me too!  How about you?  If you still have time to do them, there's no better time to start than today.

I'd have spent a lot more time out in the pouring rain

Without an umbrella covering my head
And I'd have stood up to that bully when he pushed and shoved
And called me names but I was too afraid

And I'd have gone on and seen Elvis that night
He came to town and Mama said I couldn't
And I'd have gone skinny dipping with Jenny Carson
That time she dared me to and I didn't

Oh I, I'd have done a lot of things different

I wish I'd have spent more time with my dad
When he was alive, now I don't have the chance
I wish I had told my brother just how much I loved him
Before he went off to war but I just shook his hand

And I wish I'd gone to church on Sunday mornings
When my grandma begged me to, but I was scared of God
And I wish I would have listened when they said
"Boy, you're gonna wish you had, but I wouldn't"

Oh I, I'd do a lot of things different
People say they wouldn't change a thing
Even if they could, oh but I would

There was this red dress she wanted
One time so bad she could taste it
I should have bought it but I didn't
She wanted to paint our bedroom yellow
Trim it in blue and greens
But I wouldn't let her, wouldn't have hurt nothing

Oh, and she loved to be held
And kissed and touched but I didn't do it
Not nearly enough and if I'd know
That was going to be our last dance
I'd have told the band to play on
And on and on and on and on

People say they wouldn't change a thing
Even if they could, oh but I would

Oh I, I'd have done a lot of things different
Yes I, I'd do a lot of things different
Oh I, I have done a lot of things different