if you're callin' 'bout my heart, it's still yours

"austin" by blake shelton & a really weird dream i had

I’ve been reading through so many incredible “end of year” author newsletters, filled with reflections on 2023, lessons learned from 2023, favorites from 2023, things they’re looking forward to in 2024, etc. And this whole time, I’ve been thinking, I’m def going to do that, oh man, I have so many things to say.

But turns out, now it’s the day after Christmas and I just . . . do not have anything to say about 2023 OR 2024. Instead, I am in a liminal space where all I want to talk about is this bizarrely realistic dream I had about Blake Shelton.

I grew up hating country music. It was always around, because I grew up in the South, and it felt like the kind of thing you had to ally yourself with or against. I went against. The only country songs I knew and/or liked came from either: a) Dominique Moceanu floor exercises (“Devil Went Down to Georgia,” other performances are lost to time but I SWEAR she did an exhibition floor routine to that song “The Shake” which in retrospect is a little weird, a beam routine to LeAnn Rimes’ version of “How Do I Live,” she was from Texas okay so there was a lot of country music in her gymnastics oeuvre!); or b) that movie The Thing Called Love that I already wrote about (“She’s in Love with the Boy,” “Blame It on Your Heart,” which I still sing along to in the style of River Phoenix and Samantha Mathis, no offense to Patty Loveless).

Cut to: my husband, who grew up on country music, made a six-hour playlist of ‘90s Country Bangers and it turns out . . . oh, fuck, there are a LOT of bangers. Turns out I kinda like country music. The storytelling! The musicianship! The nuances in the vocal performances! There’s more there than I ever knew.

One song on the playlist¹ — which shouldn’t technically be there, since it came out in 2001 — is “Austin” by Blake Shelton. We have had MANY conversations about this song, which definitely all played into this dream I had, so let’s get into it:

I’m at some county fair type of deal, and Blake Shelton is working behind one of the booths. Already we have one of those “hyper realistic, but not, because it’s a dream” situations, because he is absolutely THE Blake Shelton, giant country music star, working this booth, and yet . . . he’s not swarmed by people asking for autographs or anything like that. He’s just there, ready to sell you on his Blake Shelton-approved whiskey or beard balm or pocket knives or whatever the fuck he was selling. I didn’t pay attention to that part.

I faithfully watched the first six or so seasons of The Voice, and that experience came in real handy here because my dream version of Blake Shelton was DEAD ON. He was dressed all in black, he was super tall, he had his dimple, he had the deep drawl, it was perfect. If I ever met Blake Shelton IRL I think I’d have this comforting feeling of, “Oh, we’ve talked before,” because I FEEL LIKE WE HAVE.

I realize that I have BURNING questions about his song “Austin,” which also happens to be the only Blake Shelton song I really know. (If it’s not on ‘90s Country Bangers . . . I don’t know it.) So I stop to chat with him.

“Hey,” I say. “Can I ask you about your song ‘Austin?’”

“Sure!” he says. He seems really pleased to have such a specific request.

“I was born in Austin, actually!” I say. This is a true fact about me! But also I don’t know why I felt the need to tell Blake Shelton that. And then immediately, I can see he feels at ease with me as a Texan, and I feel the need to clarify that I don’t live in Texas anymore, actually I barely lived there, I live in Florida, and he starts to get a little baffled about why I’m sharing so much of my own personal geography with him and I realize I need to get back to the point.

This is where I also realize that it’s tricky because the questions I want to ask about “Austin” . . . all kinda go back to places where I think the song is a little broken, lyrically, or doesn’t completely make sense. And like WHO AM I to question the writing of a number one hit single?! I am not a songwriter. I have never won a Grammy. And yet my need to have Blake Shelton explain to me, personally, to my face, why he wrote the song the way he did, is so strong that I push on.

“So we start in his POV, right?” I say. “Because he figures she went back to Austin. But then in the same verse we switch to her POV, because now she’s calling him up and getting his answering machine.”

My husband really doesn’t like that the song is named after a city, which is also a common first name, which also becomes a nickname the guy in the song calls her. He says it’s confusing. Like when the lyrics say he figured she’d gone back to Austin, it’s not clear that doesn’t mean she went back to an ex named Austin or something until he says, ‘cause she talked about it all the time. And then for the rest of the song, the guy refers to his ex by the name of the city he thinks she went to? And calls her that name on his answering machine? It’s a little weird.

Myself, I’d love to know more about the relationship between “Austin” and this dude! Like how long did they date? Did they live together? She just straight up . . . leaves one day? Just “I have to clear my mind,” no number, no forwarding address? And he loves her enough to carry this torch for an entire year afterward? Did he fuck up and he knows it? Did she just pull a runner for no reason? idk I am a fan of a second chance romance but we need to know what went wrong the first time so we can know if it’s actually fixed by the second time!!!

So I’m walking Blake Shelton through the POV shifts in his own song, and then I compliment the choruses, which I really do like. They’re all from the perspective of the guy leaving his outgoing answering machine messages, and I think they’re clever and fun to sing. If you’re callin’ bout the car, I sold it . . . And I love an evolving chorus, where the structure stays the same but the words are different and it builds up throughout the song.

“You’re like the Junior Executive of Songwriting,” Blake Shelton says to me. It’s such a bizarre compliment, but in the dream it really does make me glow a little bit. That’s right, Blake, I pay attention!! And it seems like it would’ve been condescending or smarmy when I write it out, but trust me, the way he delivered it was a very nice compliment! I’m over here dreaming up scenarios where I’m impressing Blake Shelton with my songwriting observational acumen and he’s genuinely tipping his hat to me lolol what are dreams for if not this.

Also, what are dreams for if not to have some truly out-there details that make ZERO sense. In this one, for some reason I’m chewing SO MUCH bubblegum the entire time I’m trying to talk to Blake. It’s like I got one of those six-foot bubble gum tapes and shoved the entire thing in my mouth at once. (Did anyone else do this as a kid??).

So as I’m trying to go line-by-line with Blake about his own song, I also get to the point where there’s just too much gum and spit in my mouth and I can’t continue. So I keep having to excuse myself to scoop out chunks of gum with my finger and throw them on the ground. (This is SO gross, I know, I’m sorry! It’s a dream!)

Blake, to his credit, is very cool about all this! Maybe it’s a Southern boy’s comfort with people who use dip, I have no idea, but he patiently waits while I scoop out the gum and re-set before continuing, then waits when I have to do it again only a few minutes later. Because this is Dream Gum, it’s never-ending. No matter how much I scoop out, I always have more.

So this whole time, I’m scooping gum, trying to think of how to phrase my questions in a way that doesn’t make it clear I’m low-key criticizing the songwriting in “Austin.” I also really do not like Austin’s gamesmanship, if I’m being honest! Leaving a message with only your number and not another word, like, OKAY! Hell of a way to reach out after a year!

At this point a cart or something comes by, and Blake briefly touches me to ensure I’m out of the way. And this is the problem with dreams, too, because I went to bed with a 0.00% crush on Blake Shelton but after this small chivalrous gesture I woke up with like a 0.07% crush on Blake Shelton. Hey, it happens.

Finally I get to the POV shift I’m most concerned with. Then she waited by the phone, on Sunday evenin’, it says, so we’re with her now, right? And this is what he heard . . . Oh, wait, now back to him?

It’s a bit of a cheat. Because the whole turn of the song is that he calls her up, and you’re supposed to think HE got HER outgoing message this time, but surprise!!! It’s actually her! She picked up!

And by the way, boy, this is no machine you’re talkin’ to, she says, can’t you tell this is Austin, and I still love you?

Lest you think this dream is all about my new 0.07% crush on Blake Shelton, I will say that the ENTIRE time I was very aware of my husband and his ‘90s Country Bangers playlist and his questions about this song. Like, half of the reason I went up and talked to Blake in the first place was because I thought, “I’m going to get to the bottom of this for once and for all so I can go home and tell my husband about it.” At some point while Blake was patiently listening to me go line-by-line while scooping gum out of my mouth, I thought, “And at the end of this, if I manage not to insult him too much, I’ll see if he’d record a quick little video that I can take home to show my husband.”

That’s the line of the song that my husband has the biggest problem with. “If I were that guy,” he says, “I’d be like, yeah, I knew I didn’t get your machine, you just didn’t let me get a word in edgewise. Calling me boy like I don’t know the fucking difference between a machine and you picking up the phone.”

Unfortunately, the only answer I start to get from Blake is that at one point he says, “Well, my wife . . .” and I wait eagerly to see what’s coming next. Did he write the song with his wife? (No. He didn’t even write the song.) Was his wife at the time Miranda Lambert? (No, but I find it funny that I was applying my Blake Shelton knowledge even inside the dream.) Did his wife have some insight into the song that would shed some light on it for me?

I guess I’ll never know. Because right then, Blake gets pulled away to do something else at the booth (which, fair! presumably he was supposed to have been working this whole time? and even in the dream he is still Very Famous so it’s mind-boggling that I had so much one-on-one time with him?). I wait around for a bit, because I REALLY want answers to my questions, but it becomes clear that he’s not coming back anytime soon, and I feel stupid just standing there waiting.

So eventually I start walking away from the booth, and I have that kinda weird semi-lucid experience of a dream, where I start becoming aware that I’m in one. As I’m walking away, I’m thinking, no, don’t walk away, don’t wake up, you’re so close, go back . . .

But I do wake up, and there ends my dream about Blake Shelton’s “Austin.”

So here’s my outgoing message for 2023:

If you’re callin’ bout my year end list

I let it get away a little bit

But according to Duo, I’m on a roll

Plus my Goodreads goal

Turns reading into homework, and yet

What else do I do?

p.s. all you readers . . .

I still love you

Currently reading . . . Due to the aforementioned Goodreads goal, it has been CHRISTMAS NOVELLA EXTRAVAGANZA!!! I read, no lie, five separate ones on Christmas Day alone. They were:

• A Christmas Gone Perfectly Wrong by Cecilia Grant (a rec from Kate Clayborn, who I ALWAYS listen to, and will ALWAYS listen to because this was just the most romantic historical novella ever with a starchy man and the wild-haired woman he meets on a rainy road, I finished it and immediately wanted to reread it);

• Letter to Santa, Holiday on Park, and A Christmas in Cardwick by Racquel Henry (by a local author I met at the Orlando Book Festival, very Hallmark-esque romances in the absolute cutest packaging, these books are tiny and with adorable illustrated covers, they were just a delight to even hold in my hands); and

• A Risk Worth Taking by Jessica Joyce (you KNOW how I feel about Jessica and her writing and this was sweet and sexy and perfect).

I also read ‘Twas the Night After Christmas by Sabrina Jeffries. I read that one today as I’m writing this (the night after Christmas) because I love a theme!!!!!

watching . . . Would you believe that I never fucking finished that Elvis movie. And now it’s unavailable on Amazon for me to watch, for some reason (I must’ve been using a free trial of some extra subscription?). So I’m waiting until New Year’s Eve when it gets added to Netflix. At this point I feel like I’m standing in line with my book of ration tickets and getting like, ten minutes of this movie a week to bring home to my family.

I get this moment from The Office in my head so much, except I’m Michael Scott and I’m also Toby.

listening to . . . I’ve been listening to more of that Casual Criminalist podcast. I do such an uncanny impression of the host at this point, I really crack myself up with it. “Police?!?! What were you thinking, police?!?!” Apparently the podcast is also posted on YouTube, where you can actually see the host as he reads, but I never consume it that way. So my husband asked me to describe what I thought he looked like, and I could not have been MORE wrong lol. But one time at a psychology conference in college my friend told me to draw John Gottman as I thought he’d look and I was so DEAD ON that I think I’m still batting .500 in my lifetime stats.

1. Props to my husband who listened to me narrate this dream upon waking up and THEN listened to me read this newsletter about the dream aloud to him to fact check some of the points. It is important to him that I clarify that technically HE did not put “Austin” on the ‘90s Country Bangers playlist; it was an addition from a fellow ‘90s-country-loving friend. I told him that sometimes creative nonfiction means you conflate events and create composite characters and if my emotional truth is that HE put the song on the playlist, then that’s just the way it is. But also, it was a friend’s addition, which does make my husband’s nitpicking of it make a lot more sense lol.