Third Coast Tonight

Ask most people to name the American coasts and they'll give you two. "Third Coast Tonight" is my small, loud complaint about that.

The Atlantic side has its whole mythology. The Pacific side has its movies. The Gulf gets the weather reports. Meanwhile we've got the whitest sand in the country and sunsets you can set a watch by, and a way of living that people fly in from Ohio to try for a week.

I wrote it as a stadium song on purpose. It opens with a shout and it never really sits down. The chorus is built for a crowd to yell back, which is ambitious for a guy whose crowds are mostly in cars. But that's the energy the subject wanted. You don't defend your home turf quietly.

My favorite part is the verse about tourists taking pictures of our backyard. For them it's the trip of a lifetime, and for us it's an ordinary Tuesday. Both of those are true at once, and I think that's the best thing about living somewhere people save up to visit. You never quite get used to it, and you shouldn't.

The bridge is a roll call of the people who make this coast what it is. That's the shrimp boat captains and the barefoot kids, and the woman at the gas station who told you where the good beach was.

So this one's for anybody who lives on the Gulf and has had to explain where that is. Turn it up and don't apologize for it.