Lifestyle
Kacey Musgraves says a past boyfriend helped her become more accepting : Wild Card with Rachel Martin
A note from Wild Card host Rachel Martin: I’ve been thinking a lot about authenticity lately. That word is thrown around so much right now that I’m afraid it’s losing some of its power. But regardless, we all seem to be craving it, right? Real interactions with people. Authentic connections. The rough, messy truth of things. It’s definitely one of the big reasons I started Wild Card, and it’s what I want in my own life. I want it in my relationships, but I also want it in the music, the films and the books I consume, all the things.
Every artist is after authenticity in some way, but the thing I love about Kacey Musgraves is that she just is it. From the beginning of her career, the songs she wrote were just about the life she was living and how she saw the world. She sang about falling in love with fellow country musician Ruston Kelly and getting married to him. And then later on, she sang about falling out of love with him and getting divorced. But she also sings about smoking pot and queer relationships. And she’s the kind of artist who will put a disco song on one of her albums and not give two hoots if you think she’s not country enough, thank you very much.
Musgraves is making her art her way and she’s making it for herself. That other people dig it, that’s some sort of major fringe benefit that has put her at the top of the charts and won her album of the year at the Grammys in 2019 (and it was only the fourth country album to ever get that honor). Musgraves’ latest album is Deeper Well and she’s on tour now.
Kacey Musgraves — “Deeper Well” music video.
YouTube
This Wild Card interview has been edited for length and clarity. Host Rachel Martin asks guests randomly-selected questions from a deck of cards. Tap play above to listen to the full podcast, or read an excerpt below.
Question 1: What’s something about the place you grew up that you couldn’t wait to leave behind?
Kacey Musgraves: First of all, I’m going to say that I had a wonderful childhood, but I did grow up in a very conservative part of East Texas.
Rachel Martin: Tell me the name of the town.
Musgraves: Golden. It’s really small. There is a post office, but there’s not a school. It’s not big enough for a school. So I think growing up there, it’s different than growing up in a city where there’s, like, a million different viewpoints and there’s a million different religions and a million different cultures and languages. There’s a lack of diversity where I grew up. And I just had this urge to see the world and travel – that’s when I started really understanding that everyone is the same, you know? And I wouldn’t have gotten that if I would have stayed there.

Martin: I get that. I came from a small town in Idaho. I totally felt that too. And I can’t figure out how I knew any different, you know? Because it was just my whole world and my family had been, like, from the same place for five, six generations.
Musgraves: Right.
Martin: Did you have family who lived in other places? Like, how did it come into your imagination that there was a different way to live?
Musgraves: I think it’s just a natural curiosity. And thinking that really anything is possible. And that I don’t have to do it the same way as everyone else.
Question 2: Was there a bedrock truth in your life that you came to find out wasn’t true?
Musgraves: This also gets to where I grew up and preconceived notions about certain things. For instance, the acceptance of people in the queer community was kind of nonexistent where I grew up. I could count on one hand the amount of times I encountered an openly gay person. That’s not to say that I encountered people who weren’t closeted. But, there was a majority view of, “It’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.” That kind of mentality.
So I left Texas with this kind of idea that, “Well, people choose to be that way.” And when I moved to Nashville, I started making friends in that community. And I had a boyfriend at the time who did me a huge favor. He was from a completely different upbringing than me, a liberal family in upstate New York. He had a ton of gay friends and he just sat me down one day and we had a real hard and honest conversation about it.
Musgraves performs in Nashville in March.
Jason Kempin/Getty Images for ABA
hide caption
toggle caption
Jason Kempin/Getty Images for ABA
He was like, “Listen, you do not have the right perspective on this.” He just helped me completely open up my eyes and see and I was just like, “Damn, I’m so glad that I had the opportunity to get out of where I came from, and to have my eyes and my heart open to this really wonderful community, and they’ve made me way more well rounded.”
Martin: You talk about queer relationships in your art. I mean, that’s clearly intentional. Do you feel sort of an obligation to use your platform that way?
Musgraves: Well, one of the best compliments that I’ve ever received in terms of my music and who I am in the world is that occasionally people will come up to me and say, “Hey, I grew up in a really small town like you did, and I’ve always loved country music, but I’ve never felt invited to that party.” Honestly, it really wasn’t about ever pushing buttons. It just was me observing what was happening around me and doing my job as a songwriter to put that in the form of a song.
And to me, country music is always about real people, real stories. And why wouldn’t it continue to evolve?
Question 3: Does time feel like a positive or negative force in your life right now?
Musgraves: Honestly, the passage of time is something that like, really f***s me up.
Martin: Really?

Musgraves: Yeah. There’s something so melancholy about it. Just seeing your grandparents get older, your parents get older, relationships changing. Looking in the mirror and seeing wrinkles that weren’t there before. It’s really trippy, like how it moves and bends.
I’m just thankful. I’m thankful for it. I’m thankful for the time I have. And I do feel like life keeps getting better as I get older. That’s something that everyone that’s older than you tells you, and you’re like, “Yeah, whatever.” But, I do feel that.
I’m in a period of time where this chapter is not defined by anyone else but me. And I don’t know what’s going to come next. And that’s rare for me. I feel like I’m usually jumping to the next relationship because I love companionship and it’s just been really nice to like, slow down time and enjoy exactly where I’m at. And enjoy the not-knowing of what or who might be next, you know?
Martin: That’s such a lovely answer. Because it’ll come.
Kacey Musgraves’ acceptance speech after winning Album Of The Year at the 2019 GRAMMYs.
YouTube
Musgraves: Yeah, and it’s funny, even in terms of looks, you know, we see pictures of ourselves five years ago and we’re like, “Damn, I wish I would’ve known how great or how in shape I was then. I was so down on myself.”
Rachel: Kacey, we are the youngest we will ever be right now!
Musgraves: Right now! I know. I hate it. I’m just kidding. When I kick off my shows I’m like, “Hey, everybody, we’re existing right now at the same exact time on this crazy planet in the middle of this crazy universe. It’s a miracle that we are here at the same time. And this moment right now, who you’re with tonight, what you’re going through in your life, what I’m going through in my life, is never going to be the same as it is right now. So, let’s just be as present as possible.”
It’s just a nice reminder, like, let’s put our phones down. I mean, you know, take some cute pictures, get the good angles, tag me [laughs]. But let’s be present.
Lifestyle
Mundane, magic, maybe both — a new book explores ‘The Writer’s Room’
There’s a three-story house in Baltimore that looks a bit imposing. You walk up the stone steps before even getting up to the porch, and then you enter the door and you’re greeted with a glass case of literary awards. It’s The Clifton House, formerly home of Lucille Clifton.
The National Book Award-winning poet lived there with her husband, Fred, starting in 1967 until the bank foreclosed on the house in 1980. Clifton’s daughter, Sidney Clifton, has since revived the house and turned it into a cultural hub, hosting artists, readings, workshops and more. But even during a February visit, in the mid-afternoon with no organized events on, the house feels full.
The corner of Lucille Clifton’s bedroom, where she would wake up and write in the mornings
Andrew Limbong/NPR
hide caption
toggle caption
Andrew Limbong/NPR
“There’s a presence here,” Clifton House Executive Director Joël Díaz told me. “There’s a presence here that sits at attention.”
Sometimes, rooms where famous writers worked can be places of ineffable magic. Other times, they can just be rooms.
Princeton University Press
Katie da Cunha Lewin is the author of the new book, The Writer’s Room: The Hidden Worlds That Shape the Books We Love, which explores the appeal of these rooms. Lewin is a big Virginia Woolf fan, and the very first place Lewin visited working on the book was Monk’s House — Woolf’s summer home in Sussex, England. On the way there, there were dreams of seeing Woolf’s desk, of retracing Woolf’s steps and imagining what her creative process would feel like. It turned out to be a bit of a disappointment for Lewin — everything interesting was behind glass, she said. Still, in the book Lewin writes about how she took a picture of the room and saved it on her phone, going back to check it and re-check it, “in the hope it would allow me some of its magic.”
Let’s be real, writing is a little boring. Unlike a band on fire in the recording studio, or a painter possessed in their studio, the visual image of a writer sitting at a desk click-clacking away at a keyboard or scribbling on a piece of paper isn’t particularly exciting. And yet, the myth of the writer’s room continues to enrapture us. You can head to Massachusetts to see where Louisa May Alcott wrote Little Women. Or go down to Florida to visit the home of Zora Neale Hurston. Or book a stay at the Scott & Zelda Fitzgerald Museum in Alabama, where the famous couple lived for a time. But what, exactly, is the draw?

Lewin said in an interview that whenever she was at a book event or an author reading, an audience question about the writer’s writing space came up. And yes, some of this is basic fan-driven curiosity. But also “it started to occur to me that it was a central mystery about writing, as if writing is a magic thing that just happens rather than actually labor,” she said.
In a lot of ways, the book is a debunking of the myths we’re presented about writers in their rooms. She writes about the types of writers who couldn’t lock themselves in an office for hours on end, and instead had to find moments in-between to work on their art. She covers the writers who make a big show of their rooms, as a way to seem more writerly. She writes about writers who have had their homes and rooms preserved, versus the ones whose rooms have been lost to time and new real estate developments. The central argument of the book is that there is no magic formula to writing — that there is no daily to-do list to follow, no just-right office chair to buy in order to become a writer. You just have to write.
Lifestyle
Bruce Johnston Retiring From The Beach Boys After 61 Years
Bruce Johnston
I’m Riding My Last Wave With The Beach Boys
Published
Bruce Johnston is riding off into the California sunset … at least for now.
The Beach Boys legend announced Wednesday he’s stepping away from touring after six decades with the iconic band. The 83-year-old revealed in a statement to Rolling Stone he’s hanging up his touring hat to focus on what he calls part three of his long music career.
“It’s time for Part Three of my lengthy musical career!” Johnston said. “I can write songs forever, and wait until you hear what’s coming!!! As my major talent beyond singing is songwriting, now is the time to get serious again.”
Johnston famously stepped in for co-founder Brian Wilson in 1965 for live performances, becoming a staple of the Beach Boys’ touring lineup ever since. Now, he says he’s shifting gears toward songwriting and even some speaking engagements … with occasional touring member John Stamos helping him craft what he’ll talk about onstage.
“I might even sing ‘Disney Girls’ & ‘I Write The Songs!!’” he teased.
But don’t call it a full-on farewell tour just yet. Johnston made it clear he’s not shutting the door completely, saying he’s excited to reunite with the band for special occasions, including their upcoming July 2-4 shows at the Hollywood Bowl as part of the Beach Boys’ 2026 tour. The run celebrates both the 60th anniversary of “Pet Sounds” and America’s 250th birthday.
“This isn’t goodbye, it’s see you soon,” he wrote. “I am forever grateful to be a part of the Beach Boys musical legacy.”
Lifestyle
On the brink of death, a woman is saved by a stranger and his family
In 1982, Jean Muenchrath was injured in a mountaineering accident and on the brink of death when a stranger and his family went out of their way to save her life.
Jean Muenchrath
hide caption
toggle caption
Jean Muenchrath
In early May 1982, Jean Muenchrath and her boyfriend set out on a mountaineering trip in the Sierra Nevada, a mountain range in California. They had done many backcountry trips in the area before, so the terrain was somewhat familiar to both of them. But after they reached one of the summits, a violent storm swept in. It began to snow heavily, and soon the pair was engulfed in a blizzard, with thunder and lightning reverberating around them.
“Getting struck and killed by lightning was a real possibility since we were the highest thing around for miles and lightning was striking all around us,” Muenchrath said.
To reach safer ground, they decided to abandon their plan of taking a trail back. Instead, using their ice axes, they climbed down the face of the mountain through steep and icy snow chutes.
They were both skilled at this type of descent, but at one particularly difficult part of the route, Muenchrath slipped and tumbled over 100 feet down the rocky mountain face. She barely survived the fall and suffered life-threatening injuries.

This was before cellular or satellite phones, so calling for help wasn’t an option. The couple was forced to hike through deep snow back to the trailhead. Once they arrived, Muenchrath collapsed in the parking lot. It had been five days since she’d fallen.
”My clothes were bloody. I had multiple fractures in my spine and pelvis, a head injury and gangrene from a deep wound,” Muenchrath said.
Not long after they reached the trailhead parking lot, a car pulled in. A man was driving, with his wife in the passenger seat and their baby in the back. As soon as the man saw Muenchrath’s condition, he ran over to help.
”He gently stroked my head, and he held my face [and] reassured me by saying something like, ‘You’re going to be OK now. I’ll be right back to get you,’” Muenchrath remembered.
For the first time in days, her panic began to lift.
“My unsung hero gave me hope that I’d reach a hospital and I’d survive. He took away my fears.”
Within a few minutes, the man had unpacked his car. His wife agreed to stay back in the parking lot with their baby in order to make room for Muenchrath, her boyfriend and their backpacks.
The man drove them to a nearby town so that the couple could get medical treatment.
“I remember looking into the eyes of my unsung hero as he carried me into the emergency room in Lone Pine, California. I was so weak, I couldn’t find the words to express the gratitude I felt in my heart.”

The gratitude she felt that day only grew. Now, nearly 45 years later, she still thinks about the man and his family.
”He gave me the gift of allowing me to live my life and my dreams,” Muenchrath said.
At some point along the way, the man gave Muenchrath his contact information. But in the chaos of the day, she lost it and has never been able to find him.
”If I knew where my unsung hero was today, I would fly across the country to meet him again. I’d hug him, buy him a meal and tell him how much he continues to mean to me by saving my life. Wherever you are, I say thank you from the depths of my being.”
My Unsung Hero is also a podcast — new episodes are released every Tuesday. To share the story of your unsung hero with the Hidden Brain team, record a voice memo on your phone and send it to myunsunghero@hiddenbrain.org.
-
World1 week agoExclusive: DeepSeek withholds latest AI model from US chipmakers including Nvidia, sources say
-
Massachusetts1 week agoMother and daughter injured in Taunton house explosion
-
Wisconsin3 days agoSetting sail on iceboats across a frozen lake in Wisconsin
-
Maryland4 days agoAM showers Sunday in Maryland
-
Denver, CO1 week ago10 acres charred, 5 injured in Thornton grass fire, evacuation orders lifted
-
Florida4 days agoFlorida man rescued after being stuck in shoulder-deep mud for days
-
Oregon6 days ago2026 OSAA Oregon Wrestling State Championship Results And Brackets – FloWrestling
-
Massachusetts2 days agoMassachusetts man awaits word from family in Iran after attacks