After leaving the Knoxville area on Wednesday, I made it about half way to Nashville, only driving a few hours before pulling off the highway to camp. The camp site was rather neat — a series of wooden decks situated on a hill above a lake.
I eased Pam out onto the deck, hoping the planks would hold. They did, and I spent the evening grilling sweet corn I picked up at a fruit stand earlier in the morning.
The heat continues to hold me back. It sucks out my energy in the form of sweat. Also, bugs decided to make a meal out of me overnight. Apparently, that's the trade off for keeping the windows down. With the heat, Pam becomes a sauna at about 8:30 in the morning — I feel like a prisoner of war in a hot box at times.
It was only about an hour drive to Nashville this morning. On the way, I kept getting honked at by cars of 20-somethings. Wooting out the window and pumping fists, I couldn't figure out what was going on. When I stopped to get gas, a trio of kids came up to me and asked who I was most excited to see at Bonaroo, which is a huge music festival that, as it turns out, is going down this weekend outside of Nashville. My answer was Cat Power and Sigur Ros. I just couldn't let them down. They had such fire in their eyes looking at Pam, going on about how cool it was to drive all this way from Oregon just for Bonaroo. "We'll see you there," they said cramming back into their Jetta. No, you won't.
I made it into Nashville pretty early and rambled over to the Grand Old Opry, which these days is in the parking lot of a mega mall, no longer in the tiny Ryman Auditorium downtown.
I wandered around the museum, looking at classic country memorabilia, with the highlight being all the instruments. My favorites, Johnny Cash's guitar and Mother Marybelle Carter's autoharp.
After wandering around, I opted out of tickets for the Friday performance for a couple of reasons. First, it's rather expensive. And more importantly, the lineup is a little too modern country for my tastes. I'm happy with the glimpse I got. Plus, all the best acts (Okay, only Johnny Cash and Neko Case) have been blacklisted, anyway.
I headed downtown to find the Ryman, Earl Tubbs Records — where Loretta Lynn sold her first record — and, on a most unexpected recommendation from my mom, some of the bars lining Broadway. There, at the bars, during the middle of the day, young, alt-county newcomers play live sets covering old country standards. It was a fabulous atmosphere, and I could have hung out all day. In fact, I did hang out there most of the day, digging through 7" records and taking in the sounds of a number of musicians. Then my parking ran out and I headed off to find a hotel to watch the game.
Now, Boston has just taken the first lead of the game after being down by more than 20 for pretty much the entire first half. Let's get this done.
Tomorrow, I might bum around downtown some more before finding a haircut — the shag is getting pretty serious. Then, either hang out here for another night or head for Memphis and Graceland.