Nashville Confidential

keeping an eye on 'nantucket'

I love where I work because I am not the strangest person there, and my own brand of strangeness is appreciated. I've always worked with pretty offbeat characters, but we've never experienced magnetic poetry together. That is the brave new world I'm entering with my new work group. We have two magnetic white boards in a common area. The left-hand board is mine. My department owns it, and I have said that publicly. I get to write on it in differerent colored markers and post random dicta. Think of it as my professional Wittenburg Door. I'm drunk with power.

The right-hand board is vox populi. I have said that publicly. No one cares much. Apparently a white board is an untapped frontier only to me. We had a magnet contest to try to generate some interest in the right-hand board. After we handed out the cheap prizes they took their magnets home. The right-hand board languished ... and then I brought in magnetic poetry. It wasn't my idea, even. A woman in my group suggested it. How did she suspect I had magnetic poetry (three sets, no less)?

Magnetic poetry is magic. You fit all kinds of strange words together in nonsensical phrases and then the next person comes along and puts the word "symphony" or "languid" on your string. Then the next person comes and makes a line that is very precise and bizarre.

There are a lot of semi-salacious words in the English language, especially when you pair them with other semi-salacious words. You don't see a lot of magnetic poetry in HR departments and I'm beginning to understand why. I pocketed the "lust" magnet from the poetry set today ... Is that censorship? Or job protection?

you do the math

OK, in Tennessee there is no state income tax. In Tennessee, there is no riverboat gambling. What's a state to do? Institute a lottery to benefit education, of course. This is bad news, at least to my way of thinking. I'm in the definite minority -- I'm the only non-Southern Baptist to feel this way, apparently. Illinois teachers, please advise if the lottery there worked miracles in education funding. I'm skeptical.

urban sombrero and whip optional

The author I went to see was Nashville resident Ann Patchett, who wrote Bel Canto. I haven't read it yet, but most assuredly I will, after her wonderful remarks.

Her lecture started at 1930, but not knowing anything about the location (David Lipscomb University), I got there about a half-hour early. And there was absolutely no one there. This happens to me a lot in Nashville, because I'm so worried about getting a bad seat, or getting lost, or not finding a parking place, and I never know how long it's going to take to me to get anywhere. I pretty much overplan every outing.

So I was standing there, kind of wondering if I was in the right place, double-checking the sign on the door that advised that the study of the Book of Corinthians had moved to another room for this particular night.

A woman came up and said, "Are we the first ones here?" She was very stylish and cool, had a copy of the Scene with her. I LOVE that about this town. People bring reading material practically everywhere -- restaurants, movies, lectures. We sit alone together and read.

guess i'll go untape myself

I got home about a half-hour ago and checked the answering machine. The Miss America people didn't call. Miss Illinois won, but with this whole move and change of residency, I think I was out of contention. Rats. My platform, of course, is "Support Live Music."

I actually did not see any live music this week -- I think this has been the first week since I moved that I can say that. I was averaging one concert a week and in September I think I averaged 3 shows a week! I'll write more about that later. Alex Chilton is in town tonight and that was pretty hard to resist, but I wanted to be home for a while, then complete some errands. So I drove out to the 'burbs, where all the shops are, and watched the moon rise. It's incredible tonight -- truly gorgeous and bright. I'm so disappointed that it poured last night. I signed up for a group walk at one of the public parks and we were going to set out about 1845 and experience the whole harvest moon / autumnal equinox vibe. But the hike leader (an earnest-sounding nature-center type) called about 1630 and canceled it due to the threatening weather. Double rats.

See, I'm not spending ALL my time at concerts. I've been to hear a prize-winning author, I've seen plays, I've experienced wonderful museum exhibits, I've gone to Shakespeare in the Park, I've stood in a giant bathroom with 10 strangers (during a home tour in East Nashville last Sunday -- we were all in the attic of a renovated bungalow and the homeowner obviously had grown up with 10 sisters or something). I've tried to walk in various parts of town (the safe parts and the parts with sidewalks, which are harder to find!!) I recently was on the Peabody campus (now part of Vanderbilt) and came across a building that made me do a double-take. I thought to myself, "Now there's something you don't see everyday," and apparently we won't be seeing it much longer. I don't know how I feel about the decision to remove the name from Confederate Memorial Hall, but it's certainly stirred conversation in these parts. What do you think?

holy dale earnhardt

Tonight's adventure was a short (?) shopping trip to Opry Mills, a giant outlet mall on the site of the old Opryland amusement park. The locals call it "Shopryland." Yes indeed, it's near the Grand Ole Opry and the gargantuan Opryland Hotel. Anyway, they have a couple stores there and nowhere else, so I ventured out to run some essential errands. Quite a place ... I fully realized I lived in the South when I came upon the Bible Factory Outlet just down the hall from The Nascar Store.

It is so hot and humid here -- even at 9 p.m. I am counting the days until fall -- and no Indian summer for me, please. People here can't imagine living through an Illinois winter, but I wonder how they can endure these stifling conditions. My dad brought me some mini-screens for my windows, and maybe I'll put them to good use about Thanksgiving.

not just because he picks up all checks

My dad's here for a few days and I wish he'd stay for a few more. We've had a wonderful visit, it goes without saying. Tonight we walked over to Provence, ate some fancy French sandwiches and pastry, then hoofed it over to Tennessee Performing Arts Center (T-PAC to the locals -- sounds like some kind of Southern rap artist) and saw a play called "Greater Tuna." Think of a slightly demented "Prairie Home Companion" set in Texas, with Baptists standing in for Lutherans. It was fun -- and appropriate for us old folks, since the curtain was at 1830 and we were home by 2030.

a challenge for the bright minds of tomorrow

Would someone please invent a "VCR for radio"? You know, a way that one could set a timer to record favorite radio shows? This would have commercial appeal for me and the other seven people who are addicted to National Public Radio. I have yearned for such a device for years. Now, as the days shorten, the need grows even more imperative.

I love listening to the program "Fresh Air," especially while I'm walking. The excellent local NPR affiliate(s) broadcast "Fresh Air" from 11 a.m. to noon and again from 6:30 to 7:30 p.m. The workaday world keeps me from listening in the morning, and I'm finding that I can't fit in the whole show during my walk anymore -- the sun is setting about 7:10 p.m. and that can only get earlier as we approach fall.

But see, if some enterprising young inventor really set about to build the aforementioned "VCR for radio," I could record "Fresh Air" each morning and listen to it when I walked at, say, 5 p.m. Seems so simple!

Don't even talk to me about Audible. I'm trying to cut down on expenses and electronic devices, so it's really no solution. The answer, I submit to you, is VCR for radio.

trio disturbs solemn monument

Matt & Amy are here this weekend and I've enjoyed it thoroughly. They are simply fun to be around -- and game for anything, even such pack-'em-in sites as the Public Library, the State Capitol and the War Memorial. I love the War Memorial and visit it often, yet I've never seen another human being there. It's almost like the forbidden zone of Nashville, a space that should not be breached. Amy and Matt share my opinion that it is moving and cool. Note to JAD: You think I have to read every plaque and statue? Matt must also, and that wins him big points in my book.

So we walked around downtown, drove out and saw the Opry, loitered in Hillsboro Village and caught a show at the Belcourt. A wonderful day with wonderful folks -- I am so looking forward to their upcoming wedding. Amy just exudes gentleness. She is as lovely and graceful as a cameo.

I thought many times today about the family gathered in Indiana to mark the one-year anniversary of Marti's passing. I talked with Shelley tonight and she said they planted a tree on the farm in her memory -- then had a big hayride and cookout, with about 70 people. She seemed very at peace and contented about the remembrance, and I was relieved and comforted to know that. It is still very hard to believe she is gone and I still struggle with why her illness had to happen. What I have taken away from it all is that God does not abandon us in our adversity and, even in the midst of their most acute suffering, people who are open to Him can be remarkable examples to others.

things country music has taught me not to take to town

1. My love
2. My guns

aka 'the annex'

I walked over to the library tonight to return some books and videos. I just like writing that.