Lee Ann Womack's Hair

Well, the 40th annual effort to make people say "What the hell? I thought they just had this award show in October" has come and gone and though I am no closer to understanding the difference between the Academy of Country Music awards (the ACMs) and the Country Music Association awards (the CMAs), I thought it was a pretty interesting show. Here's what the three people I've seen since the awards thought: The Butcher: "What's great about Big & Rich is that the way they sing out of tune with each other pretty much encourages the audience to sing along." The Redheaded Kid: "Woo, listen to me, woo-wooo, I can sing just as bad as Rascal Flatts!" The woman in my office building: "Is it just me or was that the most self-righteous two hours on TV this week?" Me: "I think it was three hours." Woman: "Three hours. Three hours of 'Drugs or Jesus' sanctimony? I'm glad I fell asleep." But here's where I confess that I didn't give a shit if it was the largest gathering of self-righteous hypocrites since widow Johnson socked it to the Harper Valley P.T.A., because I am in love with Lee Ann Womack's hair. I can't find a good picture of it on the internet yet, but it was glorious, this paean to big country music hair days of yore. I'm no girly girl and my hair do usually involves rolling down all the windows in the car and hoping that dries my hair enough to make it presentable at work. But I'd get up early to have hair like that, if I knew how to do it.