J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown - February '11 #3: "New Virginia Creeper" by Old Crow Medicine Show

Sometimes songs make this list that totally prove how I am not trying to be cool in even the slightest. If you happen to download this song, it will sound like the stupidest fucking thing to you. It's like some olden time nonsense that Emmett Otter and his friends would play by the river in the summertime when it's not anywhere near Christmas and they don't have to be on TV all the time. It is not even a "well maybe it's cool if you smoke weed and go to a festival in Colorado" type newgrassy okay either. It's just straight up some weird dudes doing straight up old-timey goofiness. Yet somehow I downloaded it and had it in my truck while me and my center daughter were riding to Girl Scouts or something, I think to a Saturday science program that I thought I was just gonna drop her off at, but realized I had to tag along the whole day, which was fine, except I was the only dude there, and the other Girl Scout leader moms were clutching their troops closely as if I was gonna eat them all and let God sort them out. I had to be extra nice and smile at people to let their guard down, and sorority girls volunteering for to lead activities on this day were all not very scientifically gifted, nor all that interesting. The Girl Scout moms, at least the ones who were heavy enough into the Girl Scouts cult to lead troops into this pseudo-science five-hour parade, they were some homely women, and all had the meanest most uncaring eyes you could imagine. I bet not one of them had ever had a sexy naked Polaroid taken of them, not even in college. It made me sad.
But I had fun with my kid. And then they told us the patches they were supposed to get for attending were actually an additional ten dollars, but luckily I had some cash on my person for once in my life, so I snuck off and bought the patches - five simple little triangles with cryptic images - but Girl Scouts is all about the patches. Seriously, all about the patches.
Anyways, on the ride home, we played this song, me and my center child, like 19 times straight. Seriously. We learned the words between Crozet and the Crossroads at North Garden, and by the time we were back on 20 south headed to Scottsville we were singing it all at the top of our lungs like maniacs. My little girl was sitting there, smiling like mad, beaming at me with her big brown eyes like they only do when she is truly happy. She can be a moody creature, so I am very proud when we can unlock those beams. Never mind the song sounds like some weird stalkerish truck driver gone mad on bathtub angel dust who has listened to too much AM radio while doing long hauls through the midwest. We bonded, in the special ways that only being a rock solid motherfucking dad and being a rock solid motherfucking kid can.
I would be remiss if I did mention the same center child participated in her first pinewood derby contest last weekend. It too is a cult-like sham by Girl Scouts to make you buy more patches, and buy official pinewood kits, and meticulously make your car weight a perfect 5 ounces in aerodynamic fashion, in order to win. Props to my kid though, because she wanted me to cut it in the shape of a bird, which I roughly did. But then she painted it up like a candyflake car with glitter paint. It was only about 3.2 ounces though, so I dug out the leftover bag of rhinestones from when I made my getting-married-overalls (because I couldn't afford a Nudie suit), and she covered the hole thing with rhinestones, including one secret good luck one on the upward dip I cut under the back end of it. It was a beautifully ridiculous thing. We told her, "It's only about 3.8 ounces, and if you make it heavier, it'll race faster. But if you think it's perfect the way it is, you should be good with that, and we'll leave it be." She loved it, we left it. Next day, she didn't win any race at all, came in second a few times, but won the Crowd Favorite trophy by a landslide. She came home with her eyes beaming. It was a rock solid motherfucking thing.
STEAL "New Virginia Creeper"
NEXT: The greatest soul singer there ever was!