My introduction to the Dixie Chicks came in 1998 with the band's release of "There's Your Trouble" from Wide Open Spaces. Before that time, I likely would not have paid any attention to them as I avoided their brand of music almost entirely (save for a few Garth Brooks hits). I generally considered country antithetical to what I saw as my more sophisticated and suburban pop music sensibility. I therefore thought country was out of touch with my reality and world perspective. Until the late 1990s, that is.
The times were a changin' during my sophomore and junior years at the University of Minnesota Duluth (thanks for the quote, Bob Dylan). Some of my close friends and roommates convinced me that my preconceptions of the genre lacked substantial justification, and soon I found myself in the midst of a country music baptism. Shania Twain initiated the mind-changing process with "Any Man of Mine" and "No One Needs to Know," which really sounded more like pop songs than down-home twangy ditties. Regardless, I thought maybe this stuff wasn't so terrible after all, and perhaps I'd been a little too quick to pass such harsh judgment on an entire genre of music. With a new and burgeoning appreciation for country music, I eagerly sought out popular recording artists like Trisha Yearwood, Deana Carter, Tim McGraw, Jo Dee Messina, Mindy McCready, and, of course and probably most of all, the Dixie Chicks. After I picked up Wide Open Spaces in 1998, it entered frequent rotation in my car and residence hall room CD players. I quickly learned each of the songs, and you could often find me singing along with the tracks from start to finish. When the Dixie Chicks' next album followed in 1999, I rushed out to purchase that CD, too. A little more edgy and confrontational, Fly sounded different from Wide Open Spaces but still largely fit into the country-pop genre and what I expected from a Dixie Chicks record. Then came Home. Even before the release of Home, the lead single, "Long Time Gone" enticed me. The song kept a thread of the group's signature country-pop sound but also teased another change. This further fueled my anticipation and excitement for Home, and I did not hesitate to add their 2002 album to my collection as soon as I could. Upon first listen, the evolution "Ready to Run" hinted at became clear--the band all but dropped their pop crossover status and traded it for more of a bluegrass sound. It was their most country-sounding album of the three I knew, and I loved it, I really loved it. More mature than the previous two albums, Home tackled the feelings of loss in the wake of September 11 while also exploring love and the promise of hope. It was both timely and timeless, a feat achieved by very few albums, and therefore established itself as one of my most favorite albums of all time. The fact the CD also holds "Truth No. 2," #11 on my Hot 101, only buoys my affinity for Home. I used to say I liked all kinds of music except country. In fact, you may have even heard me say as teenager that I hated country music. But like the Dixie Chicks, and thanks to them, I matured and no longer make such sweeping and disparaging comments about entire genres of music, especially considering I could not get enough of country for a brief period of time (and there are always exceptions to the rules). This transformation in my feelings for country music also helped to change my world view by encouraging me to open myself to new things more willingly. In fact, now when people say they hate any specific type of music, I raise my eyebrow ever so slightly, and whether or not it's warranted, I take those blanket statements as symbols of a person's unwillingness to try new things. Of course, we all have preferences in terms of what music we connect with the most--and there's nothing wrong with that--but closing ourselves off entirely from certain types of music, movies, books, and/or television shows effectively prevents us from growing as a person and developing a sense of empathy. So thank you, Dixie Chicks, for helping me become a better version of myself.
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I love Pixar movies. The end.
In all seriousness, I could probably and justifiably start and end this post with only those two sentences to accompany the graphic above, but that would do little justice to the pantheon of Pixar features I adore so much. Stopping there would also fail to provide an explanation for why the post covers a collection of films rather than a single stand-out. When Toy Story debuted in theaters during the fall of 1995, I was still adjusting to my freshman year experience. Moving away from home and finding my way through those first few months at college helped nudge me further along my path of self discovery. While continually expanding my knowledge of the world around me and discovering more about myself, I also retained several core tenets of my identity that developed over the preceding 18 years. One of those essential attributes was my love for Disney movies, a truth I established early in posts about Bedknobs and Broomsticks and The Lion King. So, because previews for Toy Story advertised the film as a joint venture with Disney, I was initially excited, even if Pixar was a relatively unknown studio at the time. As Disney released more information about Toy Story, I will confess one thing had me a bit worried--Pixar's well-publicized breaking with the Disney Renaissance film convention of characters breaking into song, a convention I had grown accustomed to and loved dearly. I need not have worried. Pixar's groundbreaking first computer-animated film exceeded all expectations. Toy Story proved winsome, heartwarming, and beyond infinitely entertaining. (See what I did there?) With a single film, the studio's creative team effectively changed the landscape of animated motion pictures and established the medium as worthy of well-developed stories that appeal to adults on multiple levels and every bit as much as they engross children. With the subsequent releases of A Bug's Life, Toy Story 2, Monsters Inc, Finding Nemo, The Incredibles, Cars, Ratatouille, Wall-E, Up, and Toy Story 3, Pixar delivered a string of near-perfect and brilliant movies, raising the bar for live-action and animated films alike and setting ridiculously high expectations for themselves (perhaps unfairly). In fact, prior to the release of Cars 2 in 2011, each new contribution to Pixar's oeuvre either improved upon the achievements of its predecessors or further solidified the studio's foundation with pure and honest emotion, poignancy, imaginative storytelling, and beautiful animation. Originally, I planned on writing today's post strictly about my favorite Pixar film, Finding Nemo. But then I got to thinking, if I only focus on Finding Nemo, what happens to Toy Story 3? I decided, okay, I'll write about that instead. But wait. What about Up? Maybe I should pick Up. No--that leaves out A Bug's Life, and I can't leave out A Bug's Life! I'd be fired, courtesy of Tuck & Roll. I mustn't forget Inside Out, though, either. I loved that movie. And Wall-E. How could I write about a Pixar movie and not include Wall-E? Or Ratatouille? Or The Incredibles? My gosh, I almost forgot about The Incredibles! Not to mention Monsters Inc and Cars. Jeez. What was I thinking, picking just one of Pixar's films? Clearly, then, when I say Finding Nemo is my favorite, I mean that very loosely, and primarily only make the distinction because the summer when Brave came out, Bryce and I challenged each other to rank all of the Pixar films released at that time. Afterwards, we compared our lists. Turns out the exercise proved more difficult than it seemed at the outset. We both agreed on which two movies rounded out the bottom of the list--Cars 2 and Brave--but the remaining 11 movies were practically interchangeable, with mere minutiae separating them. And that was before Pixar added Inside Out and Finding Dory to their arsenal. Which, at the end of the day, is why I couldn't settle on just one of their outstanding offerings for today's post. |
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I am a self-proclaimed pop culture geek and list enthusiast who is celebrating the big four-zero by counting down the most important, influential, and favorite music, movies, television shows, books, and video games of my life so far. Categories
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