It has finally happened.

The Country and Western Music Overmind finally found a way to get to me, and I have succumbed. I could deny it before . . . "Bah," I'd say, "that Dixie Chicks' song is a pop song," or, "that song by Faith Hill in my playlist? Merely a cross-over song". But no more.

Tonight I saw O Brother, Where Art Thou?. I wasn't sure why I wanted to watch a movie about Depression-era convicts where George Clooney runs around wearing a hairnet and singing songs, but I watched it anyway. Well, it goes without saying, the movie was so much more than I thought it would be. Oh, OH so much more.

In fact, if you were to ask me if I would be happy to find a DVD in my Christmas stocking of a movie about Depression-era convicts where George Clooney runs around wearing a hairnet and singing songs, I would respond with a resounding YES. Of course, all you artsy-fartsy intellectual types saw that coming, didn't y'all?

See? It's happening already. 106 minutes of damn-fine movie-making with the finest bluegrass soundtrack ever was enough to do me in permanently. I'll give you a moment to shriek in horror and for my father to disown me.

I was raised to abhor the twangy music. I was raised to recoil in horror at the mere mention of a banjo and run in the opposite direction. Perhaps that sort of music implied ignorance, intolerance, racism. Yeah, well, that's all irrelevent now. Through a hoarse, phlegmy whisper, I've been singing, "IIIIIIIIIIII ammmm a maaaaaaaaaaaaaannn of constaaaaant sorroooooooooooooowwwwwww . . . ".

Instead of Fatboy Slim and Sarah Harmer dominating my playlist, now Alison Krauss and the Soggy Bottom Boys are on top of the charts.

An' ahm nun ashamed neither . . .cuz if dem Coen bruthas like dis kin' o' music, it's gud enuf fer evrybudy! Although hopefully my speech impediment will clear up shortly.

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On a slight side note, I would like to thank Blue Rodeo, and the Cowboy Junkies for paving the way for my assimilation into the C&W collective. Clearly, resistance was futile.