I can feel love for just about anyone but still be fully aware that they have faults. I'm not a black or white person, I don't deal in dualities, but see the world as shades of gray, as points on a continuum rather than guilty or innocent.
Here are a couple of Buddy Ebson songs that are supposed to be knee-slapping hilarious but which are also painfully heartfelt. They are both firmly within the country vein; the white trash St. Charles old-school country tradition Jim grew up around. When St. Louis went alt-country in imitation of the stunning success of nearby local boys Uncle Tupelo, most of my friends took to the country sound without the slightest hesitation. These two tracks show what many of them reverted to, turning their backs on pop, new wave and punk.
This alt-country turn started right before I moved to Italy, with my friends Mort Hill and Carol Crudden's brilliant band Diamond Stud, and when I came back to St. Louis it surprised me how country all the old punk rockers had turned. I had grown up associating country music with conservative, racist, intolerant assholes and it took me quite a while to get over these prejudices and appreciate country music at all.