I'm not the kind of guy who dwells on
the negative. And that's a good thing because, other than the
horrendous traffic, there weren't any real negatives on which I could
dwell during a recent boondoggle trip to Nashville with fraternity
brothers.
If you speak to some of my friends out
of my earshot, they may confess to you that I'm more of a
glass-is-half-empty sort of guy. I don't think that's entirely true,
but I'm no more likely to hold up a mirror to myself than anyone
else. That's another way of saying I'm probably not very objective.
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| Trying to put on a happy face at Biscuit Love. |
Nashville as the location for the most
recent confab of a bunch of my Fiji fraternity brothers, who collect
as a group to catch up and tell each other lies, wasn't really on our
radar until six or so months before we descended on Music City. You
could argue that I was the instigator behind Nashville as the
destination. I love Nashville. First hatched on a visit with my
Knoxville-residing fraternity brother, Hal, this trip took shape over
the next few months as e-mails crisscrossed the country and we
settled on dates, as well as destination.
You might think finding a fitting date
would be one of the simpler aspects of planning such a trip, but you
would be wrong. Unlike yours truly, some of these eight other guys
have real jobs and responsibilities. They must actually plan
vacations around the demands of their workload. I know, it makes no
sense to me either, but that must be what it's like to be employed.
As it turned out, even after a lot of back and forth about dates, one
of the guys had to bail at the last minute because of a family
emergency.
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| Doing a little craft-beer sipping at Yazoo Brewery. |
With the dates set, finding a
four-night rental became the next hurdle. I had volunteered to
oversee the logistics of this trip. But I cheated. Because Nissan's
North American headquarters is in the Nashville area, I knew I could
call on a few of my PR buddies there to provide some planning
support. Having hosted a number of media events in Nashville, at one
time or another, they have looked into every venue, restaurant and
point of interest within 50 miles of the city. Delegate, delegate,
delegate....
Although I knew my Nissan resources
would step up with suggestions about where to eat, where to listen to
music and so forth, I had to do the heavy lifting when it came to
searching out a rental. We started out with nine guys and ultimately
needed nine beds. It's one of those Venus-Mars things. Some women
apparently feel comfortable sleeping two to a bed in a purely
Platonic way. I can't speak for how gay men with no interest in one
another feel about sharing a bed, but I can tell you straight guys
would rather sleep on the roof rack of their car. Sharing bedrooms
and bathrooms? No problemo. Sharing a bed? Not just, no, but hell no!
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| Listening to some music at Second Fiddle. |
Of course, we wanted something close to
Broadway's honky tonks. And, we wanted a place that wasn't going to
set us back to the point the cost dipped into our beverage cash.
Well, at least that was the reason I didn't want to spend a lot on
lodging.
I searched airbnb.com and vrbo.com.
Nine beds, close to Broadway, not too expensive: This was a taller
order than anticipated. I finally found two possibilities. The more
expensive one was about 3 miles. from downtown and the other about 7.
Everyone seemed to be willing to pony up a little extra for the
closer house. One of my braver brothers offered to act as treasurer
of this aspect of the trip. Contacting the owner, he worked out a
deposit and total price. Investment per person was about $330. He
personally underwrote the returnable security deposit. This would
have been a very dangerous undertaking 25 years ago, but with a bunch
of 65-year olds, the only possible reason for the security deposit
not to be returned would have been a clogged commode.
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| Yeah, I'm not proud, but when in Rome..... |
As the date approached, we coordinated
flights and driving arrivals. A couple of us drove to Knoxville the
day before our Wednesday kick-off day, spent the night with Hal and
then drove the leg to Nashville together.
Nissan offered up one of its
12-passenger NV Passenger Vans for our use. This was an ideal
transport for moving our group from place to place. It required a bit
of time for me to get used to piloting it. Roughly a foot and a half
longer than a Chevy Suburban and about as wide, it was a lot of
vehicle to hopscotch through Nashville's crowded boulevards. The size
was exacerbated by the fact I couldn't see out the rear windows to
use the inside rearview mirror with the collection of bucket heads I
had to ferry around, forcing me to rely on the huge outboard mirrors.
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| The Nissan NV Passenger Van parked in front of our rental house. |
I felt like Ralph Kramden as I weaved
through the Interstate scrum. Otherwise, the NV was comfortable. Ours
was the SL grade with a navigational system, dual-zone climate
control, color touchscreen and rearview camera. Surprisingly, its
261-horsepower 4-liter V6 had more than enough grit to haul around
this crew – there are a couple of pretty good-size boys in this
group. A folding seatback on the fourth-row seat would have been
helpful. The three rows of rear seats can be removed piecemeal, but
none fold in any way. Upon picking up the three guys who flew in, we
had to alley-oop the suitcases over seatbacks for the run to the
house.
Nissan's offices are in Franklin, which
is roughly 20 miles south of Nashville. One of my Nissan PR buddies
offered to drive the van about halfway to Martin's Bar-B-Que Joint in
Nolensville. We hooked up, had some terrific BBQ and took possession
of the keys. After lunch, two of us headed off to make the airport
pickups while the third took the vehicle we came in to buy some
groceries. By 4 p.m. all of us, including the last two stragglers
driving from Ohio, were gathered at the house.
As pleased as we were with the house
itself, the neighborhood was a bit sketchy. Only a few blocks off of
I-40, the first couple of blocks between the highway and the house
were downright scary. The five of us heading in from the airport were
apprehensive to say the least. Let's just say, it would have been
easier to locate a crack dealer than a Starbucks. As we closed in on
our rental, however, things improved...a little.
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| Just a little something to sip on in our spare time. |
Things were even better when we lined
up all of our whiskeys on the kitchen counter and took stock. It was
a fairly impressive and ambitious selection.
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| From this point forward this merry band will be known as "The Russ Heaps Group." |
By the time all hands were on deck and
everyone had sorted out who was sleeping where, we didn't have much
time for happy hour. A few opened beers, which were consumed as we
prepared for dinner. Nissan had arranged for us to attend the weekly
live Music City Roots Webcast at The Factory in Franklin. A BBQ
dinner was included. Nashville's Puckett's Grocery and Restaurant did
the catering and the food was outstanding.
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| Somebody gong this sorry SOB. |
Four different acts comprised the
musical entertainment once the Webcast began. Jim Lauderdale hosted
the affair. Two of the groups were actually the same group that
replaced one or two people between sets. Although the core of the
group seemed talented enough, the front man for the first set –
Marty Wilson-Piper – was some washed-up rocker whose claim to fame
appeared to be having been booted from several 80's European rock
bands that none of us had ever heard of. The selection of music was
ridiculous. You'd get a better sound tossing an accordion down a
flight of stairs.
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| What a welcome relief Beat Root Revival was. |
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| Christie Lenee. |
Although things did get better, during
the first song of the second set, the lead of this iteration of the
band made sounds that would shatter a jelly jar. Within three miles
of the place there wasn't a dog not howling nor a child not crying. I
had to hold back one of my brothers, convinced that doing so would
make them stop, from confessing to being the second shooter on the
grassy knoll. Eventually they grew weary of vocally waterboarding us
and got the hell off the stage.
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| The Vietti Chili singers. |
Somewhere in the mass hysteria before
the third group took the stage, the second-best burst of talent was a
guy and two gals singing a jingle for Vietti Chili. It, as it turns
out, is one of the sponsors of this Webcast along with Nissan and a
couple of other products. I was waiting for someone to pop on stage
and begin singing and yodeling about Altima, but, alas, it didn't
happen. I'll need to have a word with Nissan's marketing squad. They
are missing the boat.
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| Gabe Dixon knocking it out. |
The music and talent took a 180-degree
turn for the better when the final two groups arrived. Outrageously
good, Beat Root Revival was composed of Brit Ben Jones and Irish
Adrea Magee. A couple of guys in our group liked them well enough to
purchase their CDs. I downloaded one of their songs upon returning to
Greenville. They were followed by an amazing song writer and piano
player Gabe Dixon. We all but forgot the teeth-gritting chaos of the
first 40 minutes. When Dixon completed his set, all the performers,
including Lauderdale, gathered on stage and jammed. That in itself
was worth the admission price.
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| Much ado about nothing. |
Our first night passed without
incident. Now we were faced with our toughest decision yet: Where to
eat breakfast? Somewhere along the line a restaurant called Biscuit
Love was suggested for morning vittles. Whether on the Internet or in
magazine/newspaper reviews, it was two thumbs up all around for
Biscuit Love. We decided everyone couldn't be wrong and took the
plunge. Guess what? Everyone can be wrong. Suzuki would still be
selling cars in this country if it had had the talent hustling its
brand that Biscuit Love apparently has. Located in a trendy area
referred to as The Gulch, Biscuit Love is a marketing phenom.
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| Don't ask.... |
Upon arriving at this glorified urban
Cracker Barrel at close to 10 a.m., we were met with a 45-minute wait
and a line composed of wannabe hipsters and duped tourists winding
down the stairs and up the sidewalk. We joined these other fools in
line and began shuffling forward. Once in the door, we had to pass by
a table brimming over with Biscuit Love-branded kitchen accessories.
Had we been so inclined and stupid rich, we could have ponied up $20
for a set of four measuring spoons, $25 for a rolling pin, $27 for a
dish towel or $160 for a 10-inch iron skillet. Hey, where's the $30
egg separator?
We placed our order and then searched
for a table. Remarkably, we found two four-tops next to one another
that we pushed together. Our meals arrived. Other than the Bonuts,
some sort of stuffed fried biscuit concoction, which everyone but me
in our group raved about, and the Chronic Bacon that even I had to
admit was good, everything else was either very mediocre or downright
disappointing.
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| Attempting to stay warm outside the Sky Blue Cafe. |
Breakfast the next two mornings was
much, much better. The second morning we decided that because we
liked the Puckett's food at The Factory our first night, we'd give
its breakfast a try. Our efforts were rewarded with a well-stocked
breakfast buffet that was wonderful. Saturday morning we followed
another suggestion to the Sky Blue Cafe in East Nashville. The
weather had turned a little bleak overnight. We found ourselves with
a 35-minute wait that we had to endure stomping our feet to stay warm
as we huddled in a nearby doorway hoping for our names to be called.
A couple of the guys wandered across the street to a flea market
where they offered to buy the coats off the backs of a couple of
vendors. After eating, though, we all agreed that knowing how good it
was, we would have waited another 30 minutes. Maybe the best
breakfast I've ever had.
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| Funky, indeed. |
We filled our days with sightseeing,
listening to live music and drinking the occasional beer. Well, maybe
more often than occasional. We toured the funky Lane Motor Museum.
One afternoon we boarded the hop-on-hop-off Old Town Trolley Tour. We
stepped off the trolley three or four times as it wound around the
city.
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| Mugging it up at Billy's Idle Hour Tavern. |
One of the stops was on Music Row where
a score or more of music studios are located. The stop was in front
of Bobby's Idle Hour Tavern. I dragged our crew off the trolley for a
little local color and a much needed adult beverage. It was us, the
owner and a young-lady bartender with the obligatory collection of
tattoos up and down her arms. What an unexpected hoot.
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| The band playing at our Thursday dinner spot. |
Friday night several of us made use of
Uber and headed to Broadway. Winding up in Layla's, we met up with
some of my Nissan pals. One of the bands performing was scheduled to
play at Robert's Western World the following afternoon. Like a bunch
of groupies, we made it a point to stop in and listen to a couple of
sets.
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| Wasting away in Roberts during our last afternoon. |
I lost complete control of the agenda
when a few of the guys wanted to drift into a boot store and do a
little shopping on Saturday afternoon. Hey, we're Fijis not Chi
Omegas! One thing led to another and the first one of us decided to
pull the trigger on a pair of Lucchese boots. A few of these guys are
wheeler-dealers. As the clerk continued sweetening the pot with
discounts as one after another chose a pair, another guy would get
serious and begin trying on boots. When the dust had settled, five of
them were at the register cashing in on a 40-percent discount.
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| A 40-percent discount can move mountains. |
I, of course, resisted this bit of mob
hysteria. Besides, earlier that morning I had ordered a new video
camcorder and had, as they say, shot my wad.
I had to pop out of bed at 4 a.m. on
Sunday morning to make the first airport run. By 8:30 a.m. everybody
was either at the airport or in a vehicle heading for home. I was
able to drop the Nissan van at the airport when I delivered the last
two guys to departures.
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| Another craft brewery stop. |
We had all been a little worried about
trying to keep eight guys herded together and agreeing on where to go
and what to do. Everyone compromised a little, participating in
something (or things) he didn't really want to. It all worked out in
the end.
What we did learn is that next to maybe Las Vegas and New Orleans, Nashville is America's favorite location for bachelorette parties. At night a platoon of bouncers is kept occupied tossing drunk female twenty-something pre-wedding partiers out of joints up and down Broadway.
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| I suspect the bride to be is in white. |
In another six months, we'll need to
begin thinking about the 2018 gathering. Not for college days alone.
