Nashville Confidential

then and now

I started my job here a year ago today. JFA's moving in the morning to start his new one Monday.

A year from now, I hope he feels as good about his decision as I do about mine. I've never regretted coming here.

There has been joy, sadness, triumph, defeat, friendship, betrayal, searching, discovery and a lot of eating out. [No romance. Thought there might be the tiniest glimmer in late winter, but it moved to South Carolina. *sigh* No worries.] There has also been more live music than I've had time, energy or money to experience.

in a world ... where trailers ... are longer than the movie

IN A WORLD ... WHERE TRAILERS ... ARE LONGER THAN THE MOVIE ... I heard a very cool interview this a.m. with the guy who does most of the voiceovers for movie previews. That Susan Stamberg comes up with the most interesting (and enviable) assignments. Do you recognize the voice? [Scroll down to "Hollywood Voice"; RealAudio or Microsoft Windows will help, unless the voice in your head can be described as "sonorous."]

my life is rated PG for occasional mild language and some crude humor

I saw "Seabiscuit" tonight and although it shamelessly pulled on every heartstring, I loved it. So did the people around me. They were cheering and the woman behind me burst into tears at the end. I have to confess, I really enjoyed it. The music was very good (thanks, Randy Newman) and anything with Chris Cooper AND Jeff Bridges is money in the bank. I can't think of one Jeff Bridges movie I regretted -- oops, just did: "Against All Odds." But after all, he is The Dude. Anyway, Seabiscuit is one of those great underdog tales, a real truth-is-better-than-fiction kind of movie.

And it's the latest in a series of "drama of real life" realizations I've had over the past couple weeks.

-- I rented the A&E miniseries "Shackleton" from the library (not just because it stars Kenneth Branagh) and that's one of the most amazing stories ever.

-- I went to the dentist yesterday and focused intently on a magazine while another patient poured out her divorce-in-progress to the receptionist. It was so wrenching and sad and I actually did go outside at one point to feign a cell phone call. It was heartbreaking - she kept saying, "I can't get through this, I can't get through this." I wanted to give her a hug. Then the dental hygienist and I were talking (well, she talked, I mumbled and gestured) and she shared the events that led up to her husband's layoff and subsequent job search. I left the office a little dazed, and reminded once again of how you never know what's going on in the lives of people you encounter every day. When I reported, I was aware of that all the time and now, ensconced in a office 40+ hours a week, I think of it every once in a while. Today really brought that home to me again.

-- I was home in June and in visiting with many friends and family I experienced a number of those dramatic moments -- mostly involving that great troika, birth, marriage and death -- which I wanted to write about so much but simply feel I cannot. [I feel that the log shouldn't divulge too much about other people out of a respect for their privacy. So if it sometimes reads like me, me, me, well, it's because I don't want strangers to know what you, you and you told me. They'll have to read the thinly-veiled first novel for all of that.]

queen for a day

Yesterday was my birthday. Don't feel bad if you forgot it, I'm sure I didn't you send a card for yours either. (It's extremely hypocritical for a person to be so notoriously bad at acknowledging others when she demands total adulation on her own birthday. I really do remember them ... about 48 hours after the fact. Birthday recognition delayed is birthday recognition denied.)

Anyway, my festivities began with a lovely cookie bouquet sent to my office from my sweet nephews (by way of their good-hearted mom). It was topped with a balloon, and I have found that a good way to get people to give you happy returns of the day is to carry around a balloon that says "Happy Birthday."

Last year's blow-out was the best b-day I've had yet, but this year was no slouch: After a completely decadent brunch, JFA and I went to the Celebration of Cultures at Scarritt-Bennett, which was really enjoyable. We have a lot of different nationalities here in Nashville, including many Somalis and the largest Kurdish population in the U.S. Or so someone told me. There are so many opportunities to get involved and volunteer -- especially with the Spanish-speaking population. That's my birthday wish for next year: that I will contribute to one of these efforts in some way. JFA used to teach English as a second language to new immigrants and recalled that time fondly. He's just kind of saintly that way. Then he bought Titans season tickets and found that was just as fulfilling (just kidding).

rock my world

Just got back from seeing Jason and the Scorchers and, as unpleasant as last week's Uptown Mix was (see 4 July entry), this was off-the-charts incredible. The weather was milder, for one thing, and I stood near the front, where people wanted to hear the music. And these folks, like me, knew every word to every song (but only sang when Jason commanded).

The Scorchers are simply a joy to see -- whenever I hear them I'm amazed at their energy and power. Then I wear the stupidest smile for the next three days. Yes, there is a nostalgia factor -- their music conjures up many happy times, particularly 1985 -- but they are a great live band, just as they were 20 years ago.

They played just 45 minutes, but they barreled through their greatest hits, their strong newer stuff, and everyone was blown away. The group has side projects now, the line-up has changed, and their heyday is, let's face it, probably past. But verily they doth rock.

After seeing them, I have but one thought: Follow them around the country on this summer mini-tour, to such glamorous locales as Green Bay, Wisconsin, and Lincoln, Nebraska. Oh, it is frightening how much I actually considered it. But I really can't do that. I'll just have tonight: $5 for the best show you'll see anywhere, and I walked there from work -- you could see the building in the near distance behind the stage. How cool is that? Pretty cool, my friends, pretty cool. You won't see that in Green Bay.

big happy zinnias

I have a new Saturday tradition: going to the Farmer's Market and buying all the tomatoes and fresh cut flowers I can carry (or afford). I love Saturdays and I love the Farmer's Market. It's a great melting-pot and a great value. I enjoy taking visitors there; it reminds me of the Soulard in St. Louis. A woman from Kentucky has a cut flower stand and I like visiting with her each week. It's also neat to chat with each vendor and the other patrons, makes me feel more of a neighbor than I do during the rest of the week.

Tonight I was supposed to go see Fountains of Wayne and I was minutes away from going to the show, but the Uptown Mix debacle irked me so much that I could not muster the energy. Instead I went to the Belcourt and saw a hilarious video, "The Other Channel," a collection of failed TV pilots. If you like Ben Stiller, Robert Smigel (who contributed a killer parody of "The Bozo Show") or my favorite, Judd Apatow, you would enjoy this. (One pilot featured one of my favorite comedians, Zach Galifianakis.) Seeing Apatow's most recent failed pilot -- which is still better than 85 percent of what's on -- made me long again for his wonderful "Freaks and Geeks." Oh for the whole series on DVD.

blast off

Did I mention that JFA is transferring? It's true. He is doing the reverse commute - heading back the way I came about a year ago. When I was home last month, he came up and we drove around looking for his new place. I threatened to shoot him myself if he moved to suburbia. Thank goodness he did not.

I'm tremendously excited for him but absolutely sad to lose such a good friend. He came over for the Fourth, made dinner and we watched the fireworks in the air-conditioned comfort of my apartment. Nashville's celebration was televised on A&E as our symphony played a riverfront concert synchronized with the fireworks. I can't get A&E in my place. He can't believe that I have satellite radio but I don't have cable TV. I also horrified him recently by confessing that, as a kid, I wanted my first car to be an El Camino -- one of those half-trucks, half cars. Hey, I had a practical side. The scariest revelation I ever told him was revealed during the property hunt as we passed a bridal veil store.

Him: "Need a veil? Because you can get one right there."
Me: "I like the whole veil notion. I would definitely wear one if I ever had a wedding."
Him: "I thought you didn't want to get married."
Me: "I don't want a marriage, but I think a wedding would be fun -- the part where I get to dress up in a beautiful gown and have a big party."

He laughed and laughed. I'd tell you his own confessions but what kind of friend would I be? I can only tell tales on myself.

I know this is a good move for him, and I feel confident because I know where he will be working and what he will be doing. But that doesn't make it easier to watch him go. Nobody else wants to see art films with me.

profusely

I went to Uptown Mix tonight, and I really thought I would have a good time, but I forgot that I hate three things:
Heat.
Crowds.
Idiots.

So it wasn't quite what I thought it would be. It's a testament to my deep and abiding love of the Jayhawks (or at least of their bassist) that I chose to endure the temperature and the beautiful poseurs who were obviously there to meet and greet, not to hear the band. I must be getting older because I just let it go, realizing that it's a holiday weekend, that admission was a mere $5, and that a sweaty Mapgirl is an easily provoked Mapgirl. It's no fun to stand in a parking lot (now a makeshift festival venue), especially between bands. It took 45 minutes between sets, and I did a lot of thinking -- well, if you can call silent cursing "thinking" -- in that time. Mostly I was "thinking" about the rivulets down my back, my front, my elbows, the backs of my knees, my neck, my hair.

Holy cow, did I sweat. Well, everybody did, but I think I lost at least seven pounds. I came home and wrung out my hair, peeled off my clothes and stepped into an ice cold shower. It felt fabulous.

and they're off

In some regards I do have an addictive personality, but I definitely have no bent toward gambling. I went to Louisville this past weekend to meet some friends (they live in Indy; he worked with me at the paper and three years ago made it possible for me to have dinner with Sandra Tsing Loh, for which I will always be grateful).

BAH is a Louisville native and he pretty much grew up at the track, so he coached me (and his three young kids) on oddsmaking. Like anything involving numbers, it generally confused me. But BAH explained that it's an art more than a science, and that it's perfectly OK to select your horse based on name, number or color. In the same way that women upset the NCAA pool by choosing jersey colors and smoking the ESPN-heads, I correctly picked the 1st and 2nd place finishers in the very first race. However, due to the low odds, I didn't break even! I bet $12 and it paid out at $11.40 or something like that. This was instructive for one's first time out.