"How to ruin a perfect song 101" by Darius "Hootie" Rucker

Dear Darius Rucker,

I have to be honest; I’ve been on to your act for awhile. Listen let’s get real; we all know. Just because you clean up well, drop a few pounds and trade in that 90’s grunge and plaid for some pearl snaps and a cowboy hat doesn’t mean that we all have not forgot who you really are. I remember when the only thing on MTV consisted of Bevis and Butthead (God those were the days) and actual music videos featuring you and your boys formally known as The Blowfish singing about the only one you wanted to be with was me while at the same time running fade patterns in the end zone while Dan Marino rained down dropped touchdown pass after dropped touchdown pass on your part thus defeating the black athlete stereotype.  When Kurt Cobain decided that his facial region was better off resembling a block of Swiss cheese than something that killed 80’s heavy metal I thought you along with the likes of the Gin Blossoms and Blues Traveler would be forgotten forever. Now years later you have reemerged minus the 3 talentless hacks that were keeping you grounded all those years and you have chosen to join the ranks of the genera known as bubble gum country and set your sites on destroying the one song that is sacred to so many of us weather we are humming along to it at 2am at our favorite watering hole or blaring it from the speakers while checking rice on a warm summer night or sashaying a pretty lady across the dance floor in numerous honkytonks across this great nation. Yes Hootie, I am talking about your desecration of the holiest of all songs Wagon Wheel.  Why is it that when someone creates something so perfect that others must try and improve or imitate it? When God created me he didn’t say; “Damn, this Marcus is excellent but what if I made one more for the world to enjoy?”  No he stopped there after experiencing perfection just as you should have the moment it popped into your head that you should pen a remake of the perfect song. Now every time I turn on the radio or try to enjoy myself and relax with an ice cold beer at that little section of heaven known as 5^th and Ivy all I hear is you continue to poison the mass with your train wreck version of the song . If I was to create a drinking game and take a shot when I heard you singing something other than “hold my hand” I would be Paul Zingg’s next example on the horrors of drinking…But wait, maybe if this were to happen he would ban you Hootie from the airwaves. (I may have to take one for the team here).  Hootie, Darius, Mr. Blowfish or whatever you want to go by I am asking you to fade back into retirement or the occasional set at the county fair or local casino before you get the bright idea of covering a George Strait or Garth Brooks original and we really have some problems.  God Bless Old Crow Medicine Show. Amen.

PS. Happy Friday peeps on this start to a hot weekend. Get a beer in the hand and sand in your toes and enjoy it and remember…..Sometimes you just got to poop with the door open