Nashville Confidential

this modern world

I tend to associate a lot of things with music. In my extensive music collection I can pretty much tell you the year I purchased the album (hey, I still call them that, even though they are CDs), where I bought it, and how that album figured prominently at significant points in my life.

For the rest of my life, whenever I hear the music of Will Kimbrough, I'll think about my time in Nashville, and I will think about tonight's show in particular.

He played at 12th and Porter, at a non-smoking, early performance, no less, so those were two reasons enough to go. Add to that that I missed his last appearance in Nashville, and most of all that I love, love, love his new album. I bought a ticket weeks ago.

KZ was looking for fun things to do - today is her birthday -- and yesterday she asked me what I had planned for this weekend. I told her about Frist Friday and the concert, and I almost instantly regretted it. She and I do not have a good concert history. I like to be inconspicuous. She does not. I like to sneak in the back and just absorb the experience. She does not. I feel no need to converse during the show or to meet members of the opposite sex during the show. She does.

So I had mixed feelings when she called to say she and her crew would meet me at 12th and Porter. But it's her birthday, after all, and I think birthdays are important, and it can be good to go with others.

Long live KZ, because in her brazen, here-I-am-look-at-me way, she announced to the venue staff that it was her birthday, and thereby reserved a front-row table for us. It was great to be front and center for a fantastic set.

now i understand why sharon stone went out with him

DMJ and I saw Dwight Yoakam's "almost acoustic" show last night, and may I just say, Wow. A long time ago in a Moss Avenue apartment very far away, MCCM had a "Hillbilly Deluxe" poster in our kitchen, and even then Dwight's alleged sex appeal was a bit lost on me. I love his music but I didn't swoon like most of the other women who stood outside the Exit/In -- until about the third song.

Guys, let this be an encouragement to you: All you need is one good move, but if you do that move really well, and have a lot of presence, that will take you a long way.

A Kentucky boy, Dwight has a big old pumpkin head, long skinny legs and painted-on jeans. He also knows just how to wear a hat and shuffle and swivel around in a very persuasive fashion. The sold-out crowd went wild. Even the guys.

He's more than lips and hips -- he has a great Bakersfield voice and a greater repertoire: old Johnny Horton and Earl Scruggs and Evvis. He did a version of "I Want You to Want Me" that would have made Robin Zander proud. He also played a couple John Prine songs, which were worth the price of admission. "Paradise," about growing up in Kentucky coal country, was so poignant and heartfelt that I teared up. The highlight of the evening for me was "Ring of Fire" -- words cannot describe it, especially so close on the heels of June Carter Cash's death. Dwight smoked 'em all at the end, with incredible renditions of "Fast as You" and "Long White Cadillac" that sent me home to listen to the Blasters version before I fell into bed.

The show was "almost acoustic" because it was Dwight and another musician, Keith Gattis, who played dobro, banjo, mandolin and many guitars (including an awesome Gretsch, a Fender and a couple Gibsons -- CHM would have been in heaven). Watching Dwight and Keith, I saw yet again that there is a fine line between style and stupid. Keith had a scraggly soul patch and wore Gram Parsons-like Nudie pants with rhinestones and pointy cowboy boots.

If you saw a person like that on the street, as you often do in Nashvegas, you might consider crossing to the other side. But on stage, with the sparkly cuffs and that big shiny guitar, it actually looks pretty tough. I think this town is rubbing off on me.

two girl dates

I've often lamented the fact that I have few non-work friends. It's hard to say that, knowing that I have such great friends from work, but I keep hoping for diversity. Today I actually had lunch with a woman (I'll call her CC) who works in the physics department at Vanderbilt and it was really great. We've been trying to meet up for many months, ever since we sat next to each other in a rowdy Lower Broad bar and found out we are both from Illinois. We'll see how it goes, since she is younger and cooler and a science type and a dog person, but I am encouraged.

I do think one is always rewarded for perseverance, and I say that because tonight was the Frist's volunteer dinner, and I was about 10 minutes away from not going at all. It has been a long day and the thought of going into a big room full of people and knowing no one was pretty overwhelming. Then again, all days are good days at the Frist, and just being in that building cheers me up, so I took a shot.

No sooner had I entered than I ran into Gloria, who I answered phones with a couple months ago at the local public television station. She's from Rhode Island, a nurse and a mom and a runner. She remembered that I love live music (I must have an aura) and asked if I wanted to get tickets with her to see Jackson Browne and Steve Earle in July. Little did she know that I already bought four tickets to that show, hoping some day, some way to drum up three friends to attend with me, since the show is on my birthday. So I took Gloria's interest as a pretty good omen, and I'm happy she'll be part of my big 36th. Maybe CC will too -- if she plays her cards right.

They do fabulous events at the Frist. Tonight was just another example. They had a buffet throughout the main hall, some great door prizes and a preview of the latest exhibition. The mood was festive and relaxed and I came away from the experience very happy that my time and money is going to the museum. I ran into a couple people from my orientation class and still others with whom I've volunteered this past spring. So even though I'm not close to any of those folks, I didn't like I was completely on my own.

somebody's been watching 'rashomon'

A truly decadent day: two movies, both foreign, back to back. This followed a crack lunch with TML and reading magazines all morning. I am trying to keep my vacation buzz going. I've seen three movies since I've been home and all of them have used the "Rashomon" technique in some form. I would tell you the titles but since that technique is integral to the plot, I don't want to spoil anything for you. If you do want to know, e-mail me and I'll tell you.

I love going to the movies, especially in the middle of the day. I always wonder what my fellow moviegoers are doing there. Drifters? Unemployed? Skipping work / school? Film students? Usually they are not talkers, and that makes me so happy.

The day just kept getting better: I drove around and listened to Graham Parker really loud, got Indian take-out and watched "The West Wing" epiodes I've taped. It's such a great show. Unfortunately the creator/writer has decided to leave after this season. We'll see how it goes -- but I don't think that's very good news.

home sweat home

The plane landed and the windows began to steam up. The hand railing on the outside stairs was wet. The air was thick. My hair became a rat's nest. Oh yes, the humidity has arrived. I am back.

long time gone

Well, my magical journey has come to an end and now it's off to the airport. I'm not quite ready to head back, but that's probably the best time to go: when your hosts say they wish you could stay longer, and you feel the same.

There's much to be said for having lifelong friends. There's a lot of shared history and family knowledge and inside jokes and shorthand and lingo that you rarely get with other people. Because you've covered a lot of ground together, a lot of things are just understood and accepted.

I'm incredibly fortunate to have people who understand me and, even then, accept me. Isn't that what we most want? To be understood and accepted? And to hear Mott the Hoople?

today's lesson: mott the hoople

It wouldn't be a visit with these folks without some live music. We saw Michelle Shocked on Friday as a benefit for KXCI, the community radio station where Colleen volunteers. Michelle's voice is incredible but hey, guess what? She hates the war. We know because she told us about one billion times. On Saturday night, we experienced Dean Armstrong and the Arizona Dance Hands. They've been playing together 50+ years and they serenade customers at Lil Abner's Steak House on Silverbell Road [how classic!] every Friday and Saturday night. You get a big steak cooked over an outdoor grill AND authentic cowboy music. The band members (well, Dean and Earl, at least) come through the crowd on their breaks and take requests. It was perfect. Perhaps they have an opinion about the war, but they did not share it with us during their set.

No one has as extensive a collection -- or knowledge -- of music as C+C. Being with them is like going to a musical college. This week we're listening to Don Rich (who led Buck Owens' Buckaroos), the Kinks, Sonoran desert music, Webb Wilder (of course) and some Dwight Yoakam. Also in the rotation is Mott the Hoople, because Chris found an old disc at a used book/music store we visited. It contained a version of a song he didn't have on any of his other half-dozen Mott the Hoople discs, so we have been able to compare and contrast different renderings of "Roll Away the Stone." Most of all, I've learned that Chris cannot disguise his utter contempt when he speaks of Paul Rodgers and Bad Company (the group Mick Ralphs joined after leaving Mott). This is yet another reason why I love to visit them.

think palo verde would grow in tennessee?

The landscape here is gorgeous. We went to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum on Sunday and I took about 1,000 pictures or so -- the ocotillo, saguaro cactus, organ pipe cactus, barrel cactus -- wish I'd found / taken a picture of bishop's cap (my personal fave cactus). I expected an unrelenting, desiccated landscape of brown, brown and more brown. But in the desert there are bold splashes of color and, in the neighborhoods, blossoming bowers that sweep up the house walls. One great place in C+C's neighborhood is enclosed by a wall of prickly pears. It's surprisingly beautiful.

I must confess, I am still a clapboard-and-rocky-coast person at heart. But if I could bring the palo verde tree to the Mid-South, I would.

como se dice 'arteriosclerosis' en espanol?

Today we went to El Guero Canelo [I wish I knew how to locate / use international characters on this keyboard]. They've been talking about it for days and now I can see why. It's an authentic taqueria that attracts a wide cross-section of people. That was part of the fun of eating there.

El Guero Canelo is a Spanish phrase that roughly translates to "the strawberry blond" -- there aren't a lot of those in Mexico, so this guy had a built-in marketing angle for his taqueria. It's a very curious place in south Tucson, a big patio and hot dog stand with his manifesto painted on the back wall (condensed version: Keep on Truckin') and handwritten notes in Spanish that say, "We are no longer responsible if you leave your hot dog behind.")

The signature menu item is a Sonoran dog [insert your own joke here], which I thought was a joke when first explained. This thing has two dogs (listed as "winnies" on the menu), each wrapped in bacon, and topped with beans, salsa, mustard and mayo. It's so fabulous. [One group that likely does not frequent at El Guero Canelo: cardiologists.]

We all love espanol and are talking about a trip to Mexico -- the REAL Mexico, that is (not to be confused with the Real Cancun). I can't imagine more enjoyable travel companions.

campbell becomes kino

Chris likes to quiz me about the town -- which direction we're driving, the names of the mountains in the distance. I'm learning a lot. About the only thing Tucson has in common with Nashville is that one street can have various names in different parts of town (Campbell, for example, becomes Kino). Speedway used to be named Feldman, after a local bigwig who named other streets after his daughters Mabel, Helen and Alice (the last street is now gone).

I guess one other thing Tucson and Nashville have in common is that Civil War battles were fought in each location, although Tucson seems to be keeping it kind of a secret. They have more information about the Mexican-American War and we saw that at the Arizona Historical Society Museum, where Colleen volunteers.

One of the exhibits looks at early settlement by three groups -- Tohono O'odham Indians, Mexicans and Anglos. It's a great introduction to the development of the area. I think they should now update it to include hippies and snowbirds. Tucson is a pretty hippie place, the first tip-off being the marijuana legalization march that we saw over the weekend. Hint #2 was our lunch in the West University area, where Chris said he thought I would like. It's true, I very much enjoyed the architecture and feel of the place; however, I don't believe I'd be allowed to live there since I like to eat meat and wear a bra. We stepped into the Conspiracy Food Co-op, which was indeed cool because of all the organic food, etc. However, I actually saw a woman wearing a tank top that read, simply, CUBA -- like that is the team she is rooting for. I truly had to suppress an urge to shout "Viva la revolucion!" and throw Twinkies and breaded veal cutlets into the store.