I have my boots on and I'm ready to dance

Stupid country music — making me weepy again! I didn’t used to be such a bawl-baby. But a couple kids, a divorce and the realization that I’m officially a thirty-something have all combined to make this girl a little more fragile than she used to be.

So, what do I do about it? I find myself once again over-sharing my two-cents with perfect strangers in a column resurrected from the dusty files of the Havre Daily News. For some reason, I guess I find this place, and this column cathartic — and I thank the powers-that-be for indulging me!

I was a spry reporter barely out of high school when I found myself covering such Pulitzer-worthy scoops as “City Council Elects New Officer” or “Grass Fire Burns Barn” here at the Havre Daily. To be fair, we in north-central Montana are lucky enough not to be bombarded with big-city crime and corruption stories on a daily basis. (Insert smarmy comment regarding recent headlines about tribal council here.) But, for the most part, my beat was pretty easy-going. I was a good reporter for my age and skill-level, but I had a lot to learn. I still do. I have no delusions about that fact.

I worked for the Havre Daily News at a pivotal point in my life. I was getting married, buying a house, contemplating a family. I was young, plucky and maybe a bit callow. It was a time of great change, growth and wonder in my life. I cherish that time, back when country songs were just pleasant bluesy background noise rather than a lyrical labyrinth leading to a Pandora’s Box of emotional overload.

So I digress … as I often do. Don’t let me fool you into imagining that I’ve become a jaded old curmudgeon in the past decade or so since I hung up my Reporter’s Notebook.

Aside from the occasional meltdown thanks to the likes of King George or Luke Bryan, I am still disturbingly optimistic. I suppose I’ve just come to accept that sometimes, reality is just that. I still try to incorporate my own brand of dreamy imagination and nonsensical musings into the drudgery of daily life. If anything, I’ve become less tightly-wound than I was in my twenties. I’ve come to accept the beauty of imperfection and appreciate the people and moments that seem to slip so quickly from our grasp — even more so when we hold on too tightly.

As I sit here in the familiar glow of the Havre Daily News computer screen, with America’s Top Country Hits playing in the background, I am thankful for the tears in my eyes. They represent memories, and lessons learned. These days, I worry less about impressing people, and more about being authentic to myself and my feelings. I’ve learned that just when you think life has left you high and dry with a tear in your beer, someone cranks up the jukebox and it’s time to boot-scootin’-boogie your way to the next adventure. So here I am, with my boots on, ready to dance.

(Crystal Faldalen is a freelance writer. She is a former reporter and current classified manager for the Havre Daily News.)