Goodbye, Kenny Chesney. Goodbye.

Dear Kenny Chesney,

First, let me open the conversation by saying that I love you.  Our relationship over the years has been so important to me, and I wouldn’t give anything for the memories we’ve shared.

We had some crazy times in college together.  Friday nights at Ken’s Bar on Tennessee Street at Florida State, playing darts, drinking beer, and singing about Mexico.  And I can’t even count all the Spring Breaks we spent together on some beach somewhere, frozen drinks in hand.  Remember dancing on the bar in Ybor City and watching in hysterical surprise as an *unnamed friend* made out with a complete stranger on the dance floor?  Then there was that crazy Halloween where Meathead Neal dressed up as Carmen Miranda and we followed him around all night picking up pieces of fruit from his headpiece.  And what about that Spring Break that I got stuck working through!  All my friends went to Key West and you stayed with me in my tiny basement office, singing about tiki bars and sunshine.

And then when I graduated and got married.  I even managed to sneak in some time with you on my honeymoon on that beach in Saint Maartin.  The best strawberry daiquis of my life.  And when moved to Connecticut, our relationship deepened even further.  We spent hours together in gridlock traffic, you singing to me about the beaches and sunsets of my childhood.  Oh, Kenny.  You filled that void I had when I moved to Connecticut.  When I left Florida, I had such a hole in my heart for the beach.  But what did I need of real sand and real sunshine when I had you crooning to me in snowing weather?  You turned the frozen sidewalks of New England into frozen pina colodas of the Carribean, and I loved you even more.

But, Kenny, our relationship is changing.  Its not you, its me.  I just can’t spend hours listening to you anymore.  And I know what you’re thinking.  It must be your new album.  But its not.  Things were changing long before the new album.  Its just that I need more.  I need more than a guitar and tiki bar and a whole lot of love.  I need a change.  I’ll be honest with you.  I’m sort of seeing someone else.  Its Holiday Music and its going pretty good so far.  We’re still in the beginning stages, and I certainly can’t tolerate him for hours like I used to spend with you.  And I seriously doubt I’ll ever dance on a bar or beach with him.  But he’s relaxing, soulful, uplifting, and good for me.  Like most rebounds, I don’t see this lasting long – maybe another month at best.  But he’s shown me that there’s more out there for my listening pleasure.

But now, I must say farewell to you Kenny Chesney.  Not goodbye, for I don’t think I could live with that.  But farewell for now.  Perhaps on some rainy Connecticut Sunday I’ll find you again and I’ll know that wherever you are it’s 5:00.  You’ll always have my heart, Kenny.  But, at least for now, Holiday Music has my ears.

All my love,

Katie

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2 Comments

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2 responses to “Goodbye, Kenny Chesney. Goodbye.

  1. Pingback: Spring Fever « Confessions of a Young Married Couple

  2. nigel

    Don’t worry, Kenny won’t be too hurt.

    As for Ybor City though, it’s a bit sketchy. It’s one of the many things that I don’t miss about going to school in Florida.