We're taken out onto those backroads, back there where we'd do our pheasant hunting in peace, where we could drive around drinking cold ones in broad daylight and where there's no harm in stealing a kiss or two from the pretty girls who came with us. They give us that sensation of rock and roll the way it's portrayed in fairy tales, only with most of its morals intact. It's music done by those who want to be outlaws, but settle for becoming Friday and Saturday night philosophers, out there to break a few hearts and to drink a bunch of suds - as many as are on the house the night of the gig. They remind you that there are some folks who consider all the beer you can drink as an acceptable payment for a full night's work. They remind us how much we can learn about ourselves and others on the weekends. They make us think about the summers that we spent baling hay on 100-degree days and about how we took beer for payment then too. It never tasted better. Nash sings about how they try to "say we'll never fall in love," and even when he says such a thing, we hear in his voice that the emphasis is on the word "try" and it's not taking. Ponderosa strives for doing rock and roll and making rock and roll that doesn't have to apologize for anything. There are no sorries, just broken bottles and hearts in wringers.
*Essay originally published December, 2011
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