Nashville Confidential

no dairy, no fiber, no late nights

Just got back the half-marathon registration/packet pick-up, or as I have decided to rename it, the Cassius Convention, because everyone there had a lean and hungry look.* Well, except for me ... I've viewed the half-marathon training and related calorie expenditure as an opportunity to eat just about anything I wanted (cheeseburger pizza, anyone?). Not so my more-serious half-marathon-running compadres.

To get out of the registration area, you must walk through an "expo" -- a fancy way of saying "place to sell high-end running stuff," even though they tell you NOT to wear / do anything new on Race Day. One booth had a little pad you could walk across and it would take all kinds of readings of your foot and stride. Another booth touted a wide array of energy gels (the kind you eat mid-race). Yet another had very high-tech wardrobe items. Note to general population: unless you can run at least a half-marathon, please do not wear these skimpy togs in public. Thank you.

I wish I could get very passionate and committed to something as healthy as running. I sincerely admire the folks who can do it. I long for the discipline and perseverance and singlemindedness that it takes.

As we all know, I am more passionate and committed to things such as loud rock bands. And although all the half-marathon literature warns against it, I am definitely going out tonight to hear the Long Players' version of Who's Next. I am so excited. I have had trouble sleeping the last two nights, because there is so much on my mind, so I doubt I'd have a great night's sleep even if I packed it in about 8:30 p.m. I guess we'll never know.

The half-marathon literature also warns against fiber and dairy consumption with 48 hours of the race. Water? Good, but not too much. Carbs? Very good. Sushi? It doesn't say, but I'm guessing it must be good. I'm about to find out.

JMS is running the half-marathon and expects to finish in half the time it takes me ... then we are meeting with friends for a small cheer, long naps and then festivities which will take place in earnest. These will involve travel and an overnight stay in a remote location. More upon my return.

Please pray for no rain between 5 a.m. and noon tomorrow.

Signing off from the Nashville Public Library,
mapgirl

* It's a Shakespeare thing. Please consult "Julius Caesar" for details.

nick of time

I think this bodes well for the Music City Marathon: My copy of Nick Lowe's long-ago album, "Labour of Lust," arrived in the mail today. I have just enough time to put it on the iPod Shuffle in time for Saturday's festivities. I lost my first copy in the move and have missed it deeply. Thanks to the eBay seller who made this reunion possible. And thanks to my friend who made the first copy possible. Turns out he's going to be in Nashville for the Paul Westerberg show. This also bodes well for my goal of seeing all the great folks I met in Nashville in one fell swoop.

sheer genius

Hey, did you know it's the World Year of Physics? Apparently it is. My good friends from Vandy, most of whom hold doctorates in physics, have kept this on the down low, at least around me. They are all very smart, modest, and have Ph.D.s in beer, which we will observe yet again at the Flying Saucer on Friday. Perhaps one will reveal him or herself as the next Einstein.

note to self: don't look back

From the "timing is everything" department: They're finally selling the apartment building where I used to live, and it's going condo. Sigh. Missed it by less than six months. Today's Tennessean tells it all. The property management folks always hinted that it would happen someday ... then more than two years went by. I had the greatest unit in the building, I think: the corner unit on the top floor. This news really hit me hard, and I don't know why. I loved that place. Hope whoever ends up there loves it half as much as I did.

vexillology

It's the study of flags. I didn't know that before I read this article, celebrating the 100th birthday of the Tennessee State Flag. As you know, I think it's a great state flag. One thing I never got around to doing in Nashville: visiting the Tennessee State Museum. It remains on the list.

I have a lot of deep and poignant things to share. I just haven't had the time or energy to write them. (Have I mentioned I'm getting ready for the Music City Marathon? It takes a lot of time and energy.)

So I'll have to post something shallow such as, Mark Knopfler is touring, and will be at the Ryman on 13 July, the day after my birthday. It always seems to come back to some long-awaited concert, the Ryman, and my birthday.

heart to hang onto

When I went into the funeral home, I didn’t expect to hear Rick Derringer’s “Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo.” But, after all, we were there to pay respects to TCC, and you just can’t do that without loud 70s rock.

My musical mentor MCC is the youngest of six children, and she grew up around TCC’s record collection. He schooled her in the ways of Pete Townshend and the Stones and Utopia. Wherever he was, power chords were sure to follow, and in tribute his teenage sons put some of his favorites on CD for tonight’s wake.

TCC didn’t make it to age 50, and that is almost too much to ponder, especially when you look over a wall of pictures of him as a kid, a high school football player, a young dad. Some of his favorite discs -- “Who’s Next,” “Sticky Fingers” -- were on display as well.

It’s always great to see MCC and her husband (code name: Clarence Webb), but less so this time because of the reason that brought her home. She and I stood in the hall and looked at a photo of TCC poring over a giant book of World War II history while a golden retriever sat next to him. I think if the photo had audio capabilities, we would have heard some Mott the Hoople playing in the background.

We stood in silence and thought about the truest and best part of the people we love, the part that makes us smile in spite of hurt and disappointment and sorrow.

By way of MCC, I am a beneficiary of TCC’s musical appetite. Thanks, Tim, for that. I’m listening to Pete’s “Heart to Hang Onto” tonight and thinking of you.

new address: cannery row

May I just take a minute, now that I have wiped the tears of joy from my eyes, to mention that these much-anticipated musical events are going to take place in Nashville while I am actually, physically there.

Oh yes.

Thursday April 28 -- "Are You Ready for the Country" benefit featuring one of my all-time faves, Paul Burch.
Friday April 29 -- The Long Players performing "Who's Next." Seriously. As you might recall, the January show was cancelled. I have waited months for this. Can you believe it? Oh, by the way, who wants to buy my Los Lonely Boys tickets for the Ryman that night?
Tuesday May 3 -- Paul Westerberg. This is one of my most desired concerts of 2005.
Wednesday May 4 -- The Shins. Hipsters unite.

All of these colossal events of our musical lives are taking place at Mercy Lounge. Who is booking that venue right now? Because I wish to give that person a substantial gift (such as a car ... wonder if they'd take a used Audi?).

I am out of my mind with delight. Please forward all my mail to South 8th Street. See you there.

dear diary: today i wore the white again

I used to take long, contemplative vacations in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan by myself. One year I realized that if something happened to me, say, I was eaten by a bear, no one would likely know for days, maybe even a week. And what would become of my hundreds of albums, thousands of books, and dozens of journals?

So I wrote out how I would like my worldly goods distributed in case of my untimely demise. Even now this seems pretty ridiculous because as stated above, my worldly goods pretty much consist of albums, books, journals, and, yes, many maps. I instructed that my writing journals be sent to a woman who attended college with me, but later I rescinded that order and asked that they all be destroyed.

Turns out the Pope asked the same for his personal journals. Did he, like me, revisit some of those old writings and realize the world probably didn't want to read his personal weight battles, old enmities, sappy observations and about 15,000 different loft floorplans?

hoops are for poops (usually)

Mapgirl Dark Secret #14: I hate basketball, esp. college basketball. Until the last two weeks. This NCAA tournament was great. Yes, I watched a bit only because Illinois was in it. Just got back from my folks, where they, my aunt, uncle, cousins and I all watched and hooted and screamed and really, truly thought the Fighting Illini were going to pull it out in the final seconds.

Confidential to CWM: They had a great season and made us all proud. Don't let the NC fans lord it over you too much at work tomorrow. Come visit your hometown soon.