We were having brunch at my place before heading out. Instead of the usual pancakes, I served up sweet cornbread with hash browns, eggs, and sausage. Cornbread is always sweet when I make it. I don't like unsweetened cornbread--it tastes unpleasant.
A friend asked, "When did you make cornbread?"
"Yesterday," I answered, "I made two pans. Took one to a coworker's birthday party. I was invited. And I always feel like bringing something to share at a party."
Another friend asked, "How was it?"
"Different," I answered, "but I'm glad that I went."
A third friend asked, "How was it different?"
"It was a Cajun themed party, complete with a gumbo and crawfish cookout and lots of zydeco music," I replied.
"I didn't know that you liked zydeco," said the first friend.
"I don't," I said, much to the surprise and raised eyebrows of my friends, "I really don't like zydeco."
It's true. I've tried to listen to zydeco a few times, made an honest effort to be open minded, but I just don't like it. My first exposure to zydeco was at a shrimp eating festival. It sounded harsh. Seriously! I thought that maybe it was just the terrible sound system. Or perhaps it was the drunk singer. I couldn't understand his slurred words and heavy accent. I wasn't sure if he was even singing in English! He was just yodeling and screeching, like he was calling in chickens or livestock for feeding time. Or maybe the acoustics were just bad for an outdoors event. It was windy that day.
Since then, I have been to two zydeco concerts--one indoors, one outdoors--hoping to like the sound. Nope. Still sounded awful. I felt like I wasted my time and money. I was not making a connection. I even listened to two zydeco CDs from a friend who's a fan of the genre--having been born and raised in the bayous of Texas and Louisiana, zydeco country. And I still didn't get it. My apologies to zydeco. I mean no offense. If you like zydeco, then you keep rocking to it. It's just not for me.
My second friend asked, "If you don't like zydeco, why did you go?"
"Why else?," I replied, "For the gumbo and crawfish. I can put up with a lot things so long as the food is great."
"Ain't that the truth?," agreed my third friend.
And it really is the truth. Music, while much appreciated, is optional. Good company is a must. For a good party, all you need are good people and good food to have a good time.