Nashville Confidential

you're gonna miss me when i'm gone

Friends, it will be a long two weeks with no log entries from the road. Don't worry, I'm going to create a brand new, all-Europe-all-the-time log (with a separate URL) upon my return. But I have learned that vacation = no log, because it's too hard to try to find a computer, etc. I promise to bring back a full report, after our Easter break.

lifeline

I got two unexpected, great phone calls tonight, one from C+C Music Factory (Tucson, AZ) and the other from JAD in P-town (see Jan. 3 entry). I needed some friendly voices and it was sheer joy to hear from them. I am very, very lucky to have such a good network of friends.

C+C have shaped my musical tastes more than anyone else (refer to posts from my May 2003 Tucson trip). Each has made me amazing CDs / tapes during the course of my life.

I was reminded of that last week as a surprise arrived in my mailbox: a mix CD from a guy who completed our table at the Bluebird earlier this year. I went with friends to see Robyn Hitchock, and this man was a huge fan who was in town at just the right time. He lives in Atlanta and travels on business frequently, keeping an eye on the concert listings here in Music City.

Well, he's from Chicago (his last name ends in "-ski" and he knows a lot about hockey!) and is an old time '80s rocker, and we had a wonderful conversation about music. I sent his kids Jason's latest album, so he reciprocated with an amazing CD that is chock full of new and old great tunes, you know, just stuff he's listened to and liked over the last few months. He also sent along, as a bonus, Nick Lowe's "Labour of Lust." I've heard (and own on various compilations) about 80 percent of it -- but I never knew what I was missing with that other 20 percent!

The discs really have made my week -- it's a real treasure to get gifts like that.

not to be confused with pet names

My family is big on nicknames, and so are my friends. That's one of the things I really dig about my family and friends. I don't know how we got on a nickname discussion at work, but I'm sure it was weeks ago, back when I was friendly and approachable.

One guy was telling us about his past girlfriends, and he referred to each by a nickname. My favorite ex-girlfriend name was "Little House," which she earned by dressing like an extra from the Laura Ingalls Wilder TV show.

Other girlfriend nicknames?
- Bunny, because she kind of looked like one.
- Bonehead. That was a short-lived, but apparently vivid and memorable, relationship.
- Mannequin. I felt it wise not to delve deeply on that one.

My co-worker has a very droll sense of humor, and hearing him describe these women was hilarious. I asked him what his type was, and he said, "Hippie chicks ... although I really hate hippies." He is now happily married, and I asked him to describe his wife, and he said, "Hippie chick."

He asked me what my type is, and I said -- and I think the record will back me up on this -- "Tortured genius." The line forms on the right.

on wheels

You know I told you that for Lent I have given up silently screaming at people? I wasn't kidding. I think people would be surprised -- well, horrified -- to know some of the internal monologue that goes on during my day.

To be fair, sometimes people are just incredibly annoying. And not good at reading body language. I need a door on my cubicle. That might help. Helpful hint: If I'm typing feverishly, and not looking up, do NOT enter. Ditto if I'm on the phone, or if someone else is in my cubicle and we are talking.

No, I don't want to be in the NCAA pool.
No, I don't want to know your political opinions.
No, I don't want to hear a stupid joke.

An under-rested Mapgirl is a crabby Mapgirl, and I have not been sleeping much. I have an extremely bad tendency to burn it at both ends as I near vacation. I'm sure everyone around me will be glad to drive me to the airport - they're probably anticipating this vacation as I am.

This put my day in perspective: a letter from LHK + husband, who are ready to adopt No. 2 and need your help.

Help me put out this word: If you know of an expectant mother who would like a good and loving home for her baby, please contact my friends. All of us would be eternally grateful, and I can assure you that child would have a very happy and love-filled life.

I promise I will be in a better mood by the time he / she arrives.

an appropriate election year question

Some people take stock of their lives on New Year's Eve, some on their birthdays, some on March 15. I'm one of the March 15 people.

It's kind of a recent milestone. It's the day I came here in 2002 to interview, and the day I decided in my heart to leave the life I knew and strike out in a new direction. (It took the Nashville office powers that be considerably longer to offer me the chance to do those things, but we finally worked it out around Memorial Day.)

So for the last two years on March 15, I've sat back at some point in the day and thought, "Wow, this is my life ... I wouldn't trade with anyone."

Here's what I said last March 15, and it still holds true. Who knows what I will say next March 15?

In presidential election years, candidates tend to ask, "Is your life better than it was four years ago?" Yes, definitely, and it wasn't even that bad four years ago. So it's all just a huge gift. I feel stronger, smarter, braver and happier today than I felt one year ago. Believe it or not, I also feel humbler and quieter. Maybe I'm just older.

but of course

Someone sent me this link to test my proofreading ability. Do you doubt me, minion?

You are a GRAMMAR GOD!


If your mission in life is not already to
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why it's called a jumbotron, i guess

Today was the Tom King Half-Marathon and 5K Run. DMJ and took part in the 5K walk. Even the lowly walkers got to participate in the highlight of the event: crossing the finish line inside the Coliseum and having the moment captured on the giant electronic scoreboard.

It was completely cool. How I wish I'd brought my digital camera! We walked down into the lower level of the stadium and walked out the corridor (picture that Mean Joe Green Coke commercial) onto the field. It was a gorgeous day and the scale of the stadium is completely different once you're there on the turf. Now I have something, however minor, in common with my Titan neighbors. Oh, guess what? They're not moving after all. (See Jan. 22 entry.)

I felt pretty good about all my activity over the past few days until I caught a glimpse of myself on the giant screen in the stadium. Hmm. Oh well.

DMJ pointed out that we now have seen the inner workings of the Predators home and of the Titans home.

We walked a ton this weekend. Last night we walked from my place over to the Coliseum to get our race packets, then we walked on to Gerst Haus. The oompah band played "Margaritaville" and "I Feel Good." You've never fully experienced those songs until you've heard them done by an oompah band.

Today after the race we walked up to the Farmer's Market (where a family asked me for directions to the Parthenon -- see March 3 entry) and then to Monell's, where we met some of our half-marathoning colleagues from work. We all were ready for a carb load, even though that is usually done before the race ... We had an incredible breakfast (complete with fried chicken!) and Monell's is very enjoyable. You sit family style, and at our table were three Associated Press reporters and their families. They were very nice and had never been to the Frist, but would like to. Even though I am not pursuing friendships as much as I used to (see March 4 entry), I did exchange business cards with them. I also did that thing that I hated when other people used to do it, and that is to tell working reporters, "Oh, I used to be in journalism too."

in your face, accounting!

We had the Employee of the Year award today and VGG brought home the hardware! She was a runaway winner. We are all intensely proud of and happy for her.

Since our group monitors the voting and prize acquisition, we had to keep her winning on the downlow. Apparently to deflect her curiosity, the other members of our team told V that I was in fact the winner. She knew the jig was up when the president began the introduction of the winner as "She is extremely analytical ..."

In her acceptance speech, V said a wonderful thing: "I love my team." Isn't that great? We do have an awesome work group. We're so lucky.

synchronicity

Tonight I went to the Bluebird to see Amy Rigby, Swan Dive, Bill Lloyd and Don Henry in the round. In and of itself, that would have been enough. Then they asked some of their friends to come out of the audience and play a song. Amazing people complied, including Rosie Flores.

Don Dixon was in the audience but declined to play a number. I was just wowed that he was in the audience. How cool is that? The Guy Who Broke My Heart (1988 title holder) loved Don Dixon, and just for a scant minute I wished I knew how to get ahold of him so I could tell him about it -- and not in a snotty way, either. I must be mellowing with age.

Don Dixon, Bill Lloyd and Robert Crenshaw just put out an album. Robert is Marshall's brother and played in his band (see March 4 entry). Sometimes these patterns freak me out.

Anyway, where else could you sit in a room and have such an array of talent? Even the performers themselves had to comment on it. I shared a table with another solo woman who said she just likes seeing live music in such a great atmosphere. She took the words right out of my mouth.

godsend indeed

I went to the Belcourt for that concert tonight (see March 3 entry) and it was simply fabulous. It was a benefit for the Hillsboro Village neighborhood school, and Will Kimbrough's kids go there, so he led the stellar bill. Tony Womack (as the MC mistakenly introduced him) played incredible harmonica alongside him. If you have not bought Will's "Godsend," you really should. Frankly, anything of his is good, but they did a version of "Godsend" tonight that almost had me bawling with joy.

I'm so glad my mandolin procurement professional told me about the Nashville Mandolin Ensemble. They played Beatles songs, oldtime bluegrass, even an Allman Brothers cover. They are incredible musicians. See them if you can.

Also on the bill and very enjoyable were Marshall Chapman and Rod McGaha.

I drove home sated and supremely happy. I had to stop for gas and stood there admiring the skyline and replaying all my favorite moments from the night in my mind. [The guy at the pump next to me asked me for directions to Broadway Brewhouse. Why? Again, refer to March 3 entry.]

Just when I was thinking I could not possibly love this town any more than I do, Perry Baggs (the Scorchers' original drummer) pulled up at the pump next to mine and started filling his tank. I am not making this up.

I said hello and talked with him for a minute -- he doesn't know me at all and I think I kind of freaked him out. I've lost my reporter's nerve because I didn't ask him anything, just said it was good to see him and went on my way.