When I was a young kid my dad used to play George Jones or David Allan Coe albums whenever he was burned out from work or life. The thumping twang and the soulful cry of country crooners hit a cord with me growing up on the edge of the corn belt.

Several years later one of my best buddies from high school joined a local band, Rodney and the Regulars. You won't see them wearing camo or cut off t-shirts like country bands of late, instead they don leather boots and greaser haircuts.

Whenever I need a fix of hearing a steel pedal guitar doing its thing, I drop by one of their concerts or jams. Sometimes I'll just close my eyes and imagine a little vinyl scratch to go along with their songs, and I'll think back to tunes that were of country gold legends.