So, picking up where we left off. This was the third trip trip Nashville I have taken with Valerie. There is still a lot we haven't seen, but there are also some things we must do each time we visit. One of those is eat at Jack's.
Jack's is my favorite barbecue place in Nashville, and possibly anywhere. When it comes to BBQ I am a rib guy. The meat at Jack's doesn't fall off the bone...the whole bone falls apart. The sauces are tremendous and the helpings are huge. One does not go hungry. Food is subjective and I know that others may not be as impressed by the place as I am but for me Jack's is the only way to go.
Another must do is, of course, the Grand Ole Opry. I always try to find out who's performing before I get tickets. I am a fan of traditional country music and like very little modern country, though a few songs here and there aren't too bad. Basically I think Garth Brooks killed it, and he, along with certain others, I would try to avoid paying to see if at all possible.
But the truth is, it doesn't matter who is playing. The Opry is more about the experience than the artists performing. On a good night you get some classic artists, a few up and comers trying to get a foot hold, one or two big names and a few head scratchers as well. For those who don't know, the Opry started life as a live radio show and is still one today. It is broadcast throughout the US on radio and satellite radio, and also on satellite TV if I'm not mistaken. As such, the format is quite a bit different from your usual concert.
The show is split into four parts. At the beginning of each the curtain rises and you are introduced to the "host" for that portion. The host plays one song, introduces the other acts (who do two songs each), does one more song, the curtain closes and then the cycle repeats with different hosts and performers each time. And the whole thing is interrupted at least once per segment for a live commercial. A bit odd perhaps but all a part of the fun that is the Opry. Any music fan should go at least once if they have the chance. We have always enjoyed ourselves and this was no exception. We met new blonde singer girl Maggie Rose and got to see legend Charley Pride. Not too bad.
Adjacent to the Opry house is the Gaylord Opryland resort and hotel. One word: big. It is the largest convention center in the country and has a river running through it (!) along with lots of shops and restaurants. We toured it on Friday but did not stay there. Perhaps some day when we are bajillionaires...
Saturday was our wait in line day. Not planned, but that's how it worked out.
First stop after sleeping in (amazing how no kids enables that) was tourist destination the Loveless Cafe. You go expecting a long wait. The cool part is that the cafe is on what used to be an old motel. So all the other rooms have been remodeled into shops so you can walk around and look at stuff while you wait. Genius business plan. The trouble was that a few locales were empty and waiting for new tenants when we were there. So after the gift shop, kids shop, and odd antiques and jewelry, we sat on a wooden bench and watched two guys play cornhole (no, I'm not making that up, it's a real game. Google it. Carefully.) until it was time to eat.
The food was very good, and once again came in huge portions. Awesome biscuits, the largest eggs I've ever seen in my life and bacon that would make you punch your mama.oh, and dig this, Jalapeno bacon. I thought it would be gross too, but nope, one of the best things ever.
Now, Saturday also happened to be Record Store Day, a holiday for us music geeks. A full report and reviews coming soon on my music blog. Suffice to say we stood in line for hours and I spent too much money. Also got my scalp sunburned. Of all the times not to have my straw cowboy hat!
After a brief rest back at the hotel we decided to take it easy and went to the Opry Mills mall to shop for the kids' souvenirs and grab a bite. In case you were wondering the Opry Mills is a mall, just like St. Louis Mills only good. We found ourselves unable to eat in a timely fashion and went out to a surf and turf for rednecks called the Caney Fork. Cliche decor but there was a bluegrass band playing, a real live catfish pond and the Alligator nuggets were great. This was about 10:00 at night, which is how filled up we were from the Loveless. After all the walking and standing we did the downtown bars held little attraction so we slept.
Sunday was the last day in town so to keep ourselves occupied we did a little more shopping. We went to Cooter's Nashville which is a small museum dedicated to the old Dukes Of Hazzard TV show. My inner 8 year old was thrilled. Unfortunately the Nashville location is not a restaurant like in Gatlinburg, so I missed out on that...but I did buy the official series soundtrack and it is as cheesy, terrible and awesome as one would expect.
Then it was off to Earnest Tubb's records, a Nashville institution specializing in new, classic and hard to find country music. They have recently moved into vinyl as well, so I added to my plunder. A very happy guy indeed, but it was a bit difficult taking all that vinyl as a carry on on to the plane.
Back to the airport and then home. While it was not quite was hoping for as to the amount of live music, we did have a fun weekend together, and that's really what this trip was about when you get down to it. Valerie and I run after the kids pretty much all the time. And that's okay, we enjoy being parents and love our children. But after work, kids, household stuff and bed there's not much time for us...as individuals or as a couple. This is something we are working on and Nashville was the first step. It was nice to have some time to enjoy each other's company and just hang out again. Talking, laughing and being a couple.
And that's what I will remember most about Nashville, April of 2013.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
A Weekend Away pt. 1: "Air"ing Grievances (practically a novella in blog)
Last weekend my wife and I went to Nashville, Tennessee. Two reasons. One, to have a weekend together without the kids, and two, to face down my fear of flying.
As long as I can remember I have had a fear of flying. Well, not flying so much as crashing, but let's not mince words. Suffice to say, until April 19th 2013 I had not set foot on an airplane. But only partially due to my fear of crashing. I also have always maintained that driving on a trip is better than flying. When you drive there is a bit of romance to it- the Great American Road Trip. Not only can you see the sights (giant twine ball anyone?), but you get to connect to the road and the wide open spaces. Not only do you see but you experience the America you are traveling through. Also, you can pick your own rest/food stops, and it's a lot easier to control the music. Okay, so I took my iPod along, but listening to a tinny little mp3 player for a short flight vs. my big boomy stereo for several hours? Come on. No comparison.
The other factor keeping me off of planes for the past ten years or so has been my disdain for the heightened security measures since 9/11. Well, more for the execution than the measures themselves. I had heard nothing but horror stories from people I knew who had run afoul of an overzealous TSA agent or been delayed for mystifying reasons. Like an ex co-worker who took his wife to Rome for their anniversary. She broke her leg a week before and the TSA agents actually cut off her cast (um...hello...x-rays!). Or those men and women who told me that the "pat down" procedure was much more invasive than they were comfortable with.
So why fly then? Apart from facing my fears, which we all must do from time to time, it has become a matter of necessity. You see, I am being sent to a week long conference/seminar this summer by my employer. I was told in no uncertain terms that I would not be allowed to drive. Even if I bought my own gas and signed a waiver. Apart from the insurance issue (which I would have relieved them of responsibility in relation to the travel) the logic was that it would be easier to have all of us who are going travel together so no one got lost, disappeared, or um, something or other else. I don't know, they pissed me off and I stopped listening. It did present a dilemma though. I was informed that if I really couldn't get on a plane I didn't have to go. But I only had a few days to decide. So my choices were to punk out on the conference and risk being thought of as "not a team player" or do what I had always sworn I wouldn't do and fly.
So I decided to fly. It was not an easy decision, as I felt I had been forced into it and my concerns fell on deaf ears, but it seemed to be the only one that a responsible father of three could make. Which brings me back to last weekend's flight. I thought that if I was going to freak out in the airplane or at the airport it would be better to have my wife at my side who is an angel and would be kind and supportive as opposed to the guys at work who would never let me live it down. So I did a practice run, and a short flight, just to get it under my belt. You know, after I put it back on from the security check.
So how did it go? Pretty smoothly actually. No real troubles in security for me, though my wife got a pat down because she wore a long skirt (which she is now obligated to do for any future flights). Her check was brief and non-evasive and we were quickly on our way. To wait for an hour and a half. Kind of ironic.
I was a bit nervous upon boarding the plane, but not too terribly. After all, I had resigned to my fate and whatever would happen would happen. Turned out that nothing happened. The flight was trouble free, with only a mild bump or two in the air. The sensation of the ascent was interesting. It reminded me of roller coasters I used to love as a kid, but it went on far too long for my forty year old self and I felt a bit disorientated the entire flight. This happened on the return flight too.
It also turns out that movies and t.v. lied to me about what the inside of an airplane looks like. It always seems a little bit spacious with room to breathe on t.v., even with the flight is full. Not the case in real life. I am not claustrophobic, but I was crowded and uncomfortable, even in the aisle seat. On the return flight I had a window seat and that was much better, I enjoyed watching the flight in progress and actually felt safer somehow. Weird, but true.
So my final verdict is that yes, I can fly if necessary but I choose not to if it can be helped. Though it was no big deal I didn't like the preparation for the flight-the security stuff is still a pain and it winds up being a hurry up and wait situation. I don't mind waiting or hurrying but they mix about as well as dog sweat and soda water. The plane is cramped, the air is stale, and I don't enjoy the overall feeling. sure, it's fast but to me flying is a poor substitute for the comfort, control and freedom driving to your destination. I will fly to Colorado in June for work. I would fly to take the kids to Disneywhatever or to go to Ireland/UK.
Otherwise it's the open road for me.
As long as I can remember I have had a fear of flying. Well, not flying so much as crashing, but let's not mince words. Suffice to say, until April 19th 2013 I had not set foot on an airplane. But only partially due to my fear of crashing. I also have always maintained that driving on a trip is better than flying. When you drive there is a bit of romance to it- the Great American Road Trip. Not only can you see the sights (giant twine ball anyone?), but you get to connect to the road and the wide open spaces. Not only do you see but you experience the America you are traveling through. Also, you can pick your own rest/food stops, and it's a lot easier to control the music. Okay, so I took my iPod along, but listening to a tinny little mp3 player for a short flight vs. my big boomy stereo for several hours? Come on. No comparison.
The other factor keeping me off of planes for the past ten years or so has been my disdain for the heightened security measures since 9/11. Well, more for the execution than the measures themselves. I had heard nothing but horror stories from people I knew who had run afoul of an overzealous TSA agent or been delayed for mystifying reasons. Like an ex co-worker who took his wife to Rome for their anniversary. She broke her leg a week before and the TSA agents actually cut off her cast (um...hello...x-rays!). Or those men and women who told me that the "pat down" procedure was much more invasive than they were comfortable with.
So why fly then? Apart from facing my fears, which we all must do from time to time, it has become a matter of necessity. You see, I am being sent to a week long conference/seminar this summer by my employer. I was told in no uncertain terms that I would not be allowed to drive. Even if I bought my own gas and signed a waiver. Apart from the insurance issue (which I would have relieved them of responsibility in relation to the travel) the logic was that it would be easier to have all of us who are going travel together so no one got lost, disappeared, or um, something or other else. I don't know, they pissed me off and I stopped listening. It did present a dilemma though. I was informed that if I really couldn't get on a plane I didn't have to go. But I only had a few days to decide. So my choices were to punk out on the conference and risk being thought of as "not a team player" or do what I had always sworn I wouldn't do and fly.
So I decided to fly. It was not an easy decision, as I felt I had been forced into it and my concerns fell on deaf ears, but it seemed to be the only one that a responsible father of three could make. Which brings me back to last weekend's flight. I thought that if I was going to freak out in the airplane or at the airport it would be better to have my wife at my side who is an angel and would be kind and supportive as opposed to the guys at work who would never let me live it down. So I did a practice run, and a short flight, just to get it under my belt. You know, after I put it back on from the security check.
So how did it go? Pretty smoothly actually. No real troubles in security for me, though my wife got a pat down because she wore a long skirt (which she is now obligated to do for any future flights). Her check was brief and non-evasive and we were quickly on our way. To wait for an hour and a half. Kind of ironic.
I was a bit nervous upon boarding the plane, but not too terribly. After all, I had resigned to my fate and whatever would happen would happen. Turned out that nothing happened. The flight was trouble free, with only a mild bump or two in the air. The sensation of the ascent was interesting. It reminded me of roller coasters I used to love as a kid, but it went on far too long for my forty year old self and I felt a bit disorientated the entire flight. This happened on the return flight too.
It also turns out that movies and t.v. lied to me about what the inside of an airplane looks like. It always seems a little bit spacious with room to breathe on t.v., even with the flight is full. Not the case in real life. I am not claustrophobic, but I was crowded and uncomfortable, even in the aisle seat. On the return flight I had a window seat and that was much better, I enjoyed watching the flight in progress and actually felt safer somehow. Weird, but true.
So my final verdict is that yes, I can fly if necessary but I choose not to if it can be helped. Though it was no big deal I didn't like the preparation for the flight-the security stuff is still a pain and it winds up being a hurry up and wait situation. I don't mind waiting or hurrying but they mix about as well as dog sweat and soda water. The plane is cramped, the air is stale, and I don't enjoy the overall feeling. sure, it's fast but to me flying is a poor substitute for the comfort, control and freedom driving to your destination. I will fly to Colorado in June for work. I would fly to take the kids to Disneywhatever or to go to Ireland/UK.
Otherwise it's the open road for me.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Thumbs Way Down.
Well. I had planned on writing a follow up to the last post on books by giving a current list of what I have been reading and a few words about said books. It was going to be a thoughtful and hopefully entertaining look at some (okay, three) of the more popular, interesting, and at one point controversial books in history.
And then Roger Ebert died.
This may sound a little strange, but Roger Ebert has always been one of my heroes. I didn't realize it either until today. He'd just always been my favorite movie critic, but when I read the news I felt a sense of loss that one doesn't normally get when a famous person dies. It felt the same way you feel when you hear an old acquaintance has passed. Not close family or dear friend, but someone you'd known and always had great admiration and respect for. Someone who always had something interesting to say, cut to the heart of the matter and was largely entertaining. The kind of friend who you felt you could pick up with where you left off should your paths ever cross again. That's how I felt this afternoon.
I grew up watching "Sneak Previews" as a kid late night weekends on our local PBS station, Channel 9. Apart from the Siskel/Ebert spats that everybody loved to watch, I particularly enjoyed Ebert's reviews. He was clearly a smart guy, and a film expert (if not a bit of a snob), but seemed like a regular guy too. Perhaps that's really what I was affected by, another one of my childhood memories that I can no longer revisit. That safe and warm nostalgia we all have which unfortunately gets eaten away a little bit at a time. Well, that, and I really liked the guy.
I tended to agree with Ebert's reviews more so than any other critic out there. Medved? Shalit? Roeper?Psssht...please. Roger was the real deal. He pulled no punches and told the truth as he saw it. This is what any good writer does, Ebert just wrote about movies as opposed to writing a novel or poetry. But movies are a shared experience and a reflection of those who make them and the times they are made in. So when a critic writes, they are commenting on not just the art or artist, but on the work and its statement about society as a whole. A little heady there maybe, but that's why criticism is so important to the arts. And Roger Ebert did it better than anybody.
When I was young I thought Roger Ebert had the coolest job in the world apart from being a professional musician. I now play in a rock band and have two blogs where I review stuff from time to time. At least some of that is due to him.
So yes, in an indirect way he was a hero to me. We are all aware that he spent the last part of his life battling cancer which left him unable to speak and without his lower jaw. Cancer took his speaking voice but he continued to write reviews for years, proving that a powerful voice can never truly be taken away. He fought bravely, and remained mostly positive. The day before he died he issued a statement that the cancer had reentered his body and he was going to start slowing down and only review the movies he wanted to review. It's a shame he didn't get to continue with his passion but I pray he is in a better place. Where they only show good films.
So rest in peace, Roger Ebert. And we'll see you at the movies.
And then Roger Ebert died.
This may sound a little strange, but Roger Ebert has always been one of my heroes. I didn't realize it either until today. He'd just always been my favorite movie critic, but when I read the news I felt a sense of loss that one doesn't normally get when a famous person dies. It felt the same way you feel when you hear an old acquaintance has passed. Not close family or dear friend, but someone you'd known and always had great admiration and respect for. Someone who always had something interesting to say, cut to the heart of the matter and was largely entertaining. The kind of friend who you felt you could pick up with where you left off should your paths ever cross again. That's how I felt this afternoon.
I grew up watching "Sneak Previews" as a kid late night weekends on our local PBS station, Channel 9. Apart from the Siskel/Ebert spats that everybody loved to watch, I particularly enjoyed Ebert's reviews. He was clearly a smart guy, and a film expert (if not a bit of a snob), but seemed like a regular guy too. Perhaps that's really what I was affected by, another one of my childhood memories that I can no longer revisit. That safe and warm nostalgia we all have which unfortunately gets eaten away a little bit at a time. Well, that, and I really liked the guy.
I tended to agree with Ebert's reviews more so than any other critic out there. Medved? Shalit? Roeper?Psssht...please. Roger was the real deal. He pulled no punches and told the truth as he saw it. This is what any good writer does, Ebert just wrote about movies as opposed to writing a novel or poetry. But movies are a shared experience and a reflection of those who make them and the times they are made in. So when a critic writes, they are commenting on not just the art or artist, but on the work and its statement about society as a whole. A little heady there maybe, but that's why criticism is so important to the arts. And Roger Ebert did it better than anybody.
When I was young I thought Roger Ebert had the coolest job in the world apart from being a professional musician. I now play in a rock band and have two blogs where I review stuff from time to time. At least some of that is due to him.
So yes, in an indirect way he was a hero to me. We are all aware that he spent the last part of his life battling cancer which left him unable to speak and without his lower jaw. Cancer took his speaking voice but he continued to write reviews for years, proving that a powerful voice can never truly be taken away. He fought bravely, and remained mostly positive. The day before he died he issued a statement that the cancer had reentered his body and he was going to start slowing down and only review the movies he wanted to review. It's a shame he didn't get to continue with his passion but I pray he is in a better place. Where they only show good films.
So rest in peace, Roger Ebert. And we'll see you at the movies.
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