The demise of an old friend

George Strait released Murder on Music Row 25 years ago, lamenting the decline of traditional country music and its imminent demise under the assault of rock and roll country bub-blegum rap crap pop.

They were right, in my opinion, and the good country has been figuratively rolled into a shallow grave. While driving back from West Virginia this past week, the War Department and I tried to listen to this new sound, and my blood pressure meds gave up on me when one song by an artist was nothing but repetitive cadence reminiscent of do-do-do-da-da-da.

When I snapped the radio off, we talked about a conversation I had with several bestselling authors the night before, and a new murder that’s planned for the end of this year.