Hillbilly Heart (37 page)

Authors: Billy Ray Cyrus,Todd Gold

Tags: #General, #Religious, #Entertainment & Performing Arts, #Personal Memoirs, #Music, #Biography & Autobiography, #Composers & Musicians

BOOK: Hillbilly Heart

5.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Read Book Download Book

The music is still the best definition of who I am, where I’ve been, and where I’m going. Consider the honesty in “Hillbilly Heart.” I think it’s as true to my musical roots, influences, and my personal attitude as if I was looking in a mirror and seeing my reflection. The lines on my face, the scars on my body, the sincerity in my eyes… It’s all still there, a window into my soul. “Hillbilly Heart” is a picture of who I am, past, present, and future.

I was born in the holler

Down among the hills

Never had a lot of luck

But Lord, I had some thrills

Keepin’ it country

Keepin’ it country all the time

Country is as country does

Country is what country loves

[BREAK]

Walkin’ by the river

Down along the tracks

Always tried to look ahead

But Lord I love lookin’ back

Keepin’ it country

Keepin’ it country all the time

Well, I’ve been this way from the start

I’ve got a hillbilly heart

[BREAK]

Lord I love the guitar

Love to hear it loud

If you don’t like what you hear

You should leave this crowd

Keepin’ it country

Keepin’ it country all the time

This southern twang here is my art

I got a hillbilly heart

[BREAK]

I love my truck

Love to drive it fast

If you don’t like the way I drive

You can kiss my ass

I’m keepin’ it country

Keepin’ it country all the time

You can change every part

Except my hillbilly heart

[BREAK]

’Cuz I’ve been this way from the start

I’ve got a hillbilly heart

[END]

In June 2012, I was arranging to release my song “That’s What Daddys Do” online as a free download on Father’s Day. I had supposedly retired from making albums, but who was I kidding? I’m a singer-songwriter from Flatwoods, Kentucky; this is what I was born to do. I wanted to give something to the fans, many of whom had not only supported me the past twenty years, but had grown
up with me and were now raising families. Giving them a song was one little way I could say thank you.

Then Miley burst through the kitchen door, her legs and arms and hair flying in every direction just like it did when she was a little kid. “Daddy!” she screamed. “Dad!”

A moment later, she wrapped her arms around me and stuck her finger in front of my face. I was staring at a diamond ring—a pretty sizable chunk of diamond, too.

“I’m engaged!” she said. “Liam asked me to get married.”

Liam followed her into the room, and Tish was not far behind. All of us hugged and smiled. I was even happier because they had recently come down from Miley’s house in the hills and moved into our old house, which Tish and I had recently vacated for a smaller, cozier place around the corner that had previously belonged to Miley. Basically, we traded.

Although we weren’t sure when young Mr. Hemsworth was going to pop the question, Tish and I both knew it was on the horizon. He had come to us and said, “I’m getting ready to ask Miley to marry me. What do you think?” At nineteen, Miley was young. But she had an old soul. She’d seen a lot and grown up fast. And she sure did seem happy around Liam.

I’d had a good feeling about Liam from the first time I laid eyes on him—and that was before Miley saw him on the set of
The Last Song.
Tish was working with a casting company to find the male lead for the movie, and they were down to three or four contenders when I looked through a stack of pictures and pulled out Liam’s photo.

“I could see that guy being her boyfriend,” I said.

Tish looked up at me.

“Wow, me too,” she said. “But he’s not one of the finalists, and I don’t want to cause a stir with these people.”

“Hey, you’re a producer on this movie, right?” I said. “If you feel like that, voice your opinion.”

She did. Then they brought in Liam, and everybody fell in love with him, including Miley. He was from a part of Australia that
reminded me of eastern Kentucky… in a way. He and his brother, Chris, are talented actors, and his family are good people. Most important, Miley and Liam have a lot of fun together, and they’re good friends.

So when Liam asked if he could marry my daughter, I gave the only response that made sense. I said, “Can you get me in one of your brother’s movies?”

Hey, it was only a joke. Of course, in a more serious tone, I said the truth: “Sure, it’s cool with me… if it’s cool with her. Miley’s the boss. You know that. Hey, but make me one promise. You guys be good to each other… and don’t ever stop being best friends.”

A few days later, Brandi came to me with boyfriend trouble. Then Braison had to be rushed to the emergency room after his tonsils burst while he was asleep. I heard him choking—on his blood, it turned out—and woke him up. The doctor said it was a freakish occurrence that could have killed him. It was always something. Tish and I knew neither of us could have managed our brood alone. I promised her a nice porch and a rocker for our old age if we survived our kids.

History had proven our durability. More than twenty years after “Achy Breaky Heart” became a monster hit and catapulted me into the limelight, I was still going strong. In late 2012, I released my thirteenth album,
Change My Mind,
and made my Broadway debut as Billy Flynn in the award-winning play
Chicago.
I know what you’re thinking right now. Broadway? How does a hillbilly like you end up on Broadway?

Well, I wanted to become a better actor and learn something new. I had never challenged myself to discover all I could about acting, not just being a personality on the screen, but being an artist. Going to Broadway was definitely a way to climb the ladder and acquire new skills.

But what I really learned was: never underestimate life. Instead, expect the unexpected. I went to New York thinking it was about me. I’m going to be a Broadway star. I’m going to learn this.
I’m going to do that. Then Hurricane Sandy hit and everything changed.

What I learned was what I already knew. It wasn’t about me. God had put me right where I was supposed to be—in the eye of the storm. I was there in the darkness to represent his light and his love, striving for purpose to find a moral to the story.

Where do I go from here? What’s my next chapter? I wish I had an answer. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s better not knowing all the answers, not understanding everything, and enjoying the mystery of tomorrow. The only thing I do know is, I don’t know nothing. I play life the same way I play music. I play it by ear.

What you are is God’s gift to you. What you do with yourself is your gift to God.

—
LEO BUSCAGLIA

AFTERWORD

“Forgot to Forget”

L
ATE ONE AFTERNOON, SHORTLY
before my dad got sick, the two of us sat in a couple of chairs I have on Spirit Mountain, about twenty yards from my teepee. The spot looks down on pastures and straight across the land that rises again into more tree-covered hills. Sitting there creates a mood and perspective perfect for sitting and thinking or talking and reflecting about life, and my dad and I were doing just that.

Topics ranged from his horses to my travels and family. As we talked, the sun went down and the sky turned black, revealing billions of stars above us. Talking with my dad was one of my life’s greatest treasures. He was a great dad and a wise man who shared his knowledge generously. He didn’t look down on people, and he knew how to forgive mistakes.

He was equally good when the conversation paused and there was just silence. He was the one who taught me that ninety percent of a conversation is listening. I remember the wind blowing through the trees and both of us leaning back and enjoying the sound.

“Dad,” I said. “Let me ask you a question that I don’t think I’ve ever asked you.”

“Sure, Bo,” he said.

“Well, it’s like this. Do you really believe in heaven?”

He turned to me with a troubled look in his eyes.

“I mean if we do the right things with our life,” I continued, “and believe in Jesus, do we get there?”

Instead of saying anything directly to me, he put his hand on my back, shut his eyes, and bowed his head.

“Bo, we’re going to pray,” he said. “Heavenly Father, my son asked a question and needs an answer. If I heard him right, I want you to know that the fact he doesn’t know the answer, that he has any doubt, causes me a great pain.”

I wanted to interrupt him and apologize, which I suppose my dad knew, because suddenly the arm he had placed on my back pulled me closer. My dad was holding me like he did when I was a boy and got lost in the woods that day. He wanted me to pay attention.

“Mom and Dad,” he said, “if you are up there in heaven right now, will you please show my son a sign so he believes… Amen.”

We opened our eyes, and as soon as we did, a bright light shot across the sky right in front of us. I swear it was like Halley’s comet… only bigger. It only lasted an instant. But both of us saw it. Neither of us said a word. I was about to say something, but then my dad started walking off into the darkness. I remembered what he had taught me long ago: sometimes silence speaks louder than words.

DISCOGRAPHY

SOME GAVE ALL
(1992)