I want to be a country singer.  It is a dream I've held since I was but a wee child back in the fifties.  I'm now just over the age of fifty, and the dream still burns as brightly as ever.

To me, there is no satisfaction in entertaining people with my ability to sing or pick guitar; I know all the old great songs.  "Another Bridge To Burn", "Take An Old Tater And Wait", "Out Behind The Barn", and "May The Bird Of Paradise Fly Up Your Nose" by Jimmy Dickens.  "Waltz Across Texas", "Thanks A Lot", "I'm Walkin' The Floor Over You" by the great Ernie Tubb.  "He Thinks I Still Care", "The Race Is On", and "White Lightnin'" by George Jones.

Oh, yeah, that was some great music back then.

Today's country, sadly, doesn't have the same soul.  And it ain't even country.  To me, it's nothin' more than watered down pop or rock music.  All they do is stick a fiddle or steel guitar in it, and they claim it is country when it is anything but.

It's pathetic what Nashville has done to country music.  I haven't been to a country show since last year when Loretta Lynn came to Oshkosh to perform at our county fair.  Doesn't look like I'll be going to another anytime soon, unless someone like Allan Jackson, George Strait (or Jones), or Jimmy Dickens has been booked to sing there at the county fair this year.

Nope:  just checked.  "Rascal Flatts".  Not exactly my cup of tea.

Anyway, back to my story.  I have been performing in the hopes of making it in music.  Most people at one time or another have that dream.  I long to be the next George Jones or Ernest Tubb, or maybe even the next George Strait or Josh Turner.  Or Allan Jackson.  (George Strait, Allan, and Josh Turner, though young, still follow the footsteps of the old country masters; maybe country music has some life in it yet! :) )

I have been performing steadily for the past six years; I have had people tell me I should go to Nashville to cut a record.  They tell me I'm that good.

I've been trying to get to Nashville; however, I don't have the way to get there, plus I spend my time taking care of my brother (he's retarded) when I'm not performing or working.  He takes up a lot of my time.  He's almost sixty, with the mind of a three year old.  He needs to be watched every minute, or else he could get into serious trouble.

I don't give up on my dreamin', though.  Nearly every night, I dream the same dream:  walking on stage of the hallowed Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, Tennessee, where I then enthrall the fans with another golden country classic.  I wake up with a song in my heart and a smile on my face.

I'm waitin' for that call for someone to tell me that I'm going to Nashville.  So far it hasn't happened, but I'm not giving up hope.  I am a very patient person.

Well, Jimmy is calling me (that's my brother's name), so I will go, see what he wants.  I will be writing in here again, so you can chart my progress to make it in music.  You haven't heard the last from me!

Take care and may God bless you!

~Harold X. Dickey, Oshkosh, Wisconsin.