It's a sunny winter Sunday afternoon. I'm 20 minutes into the hour-long drive from my parents' house in Bowling Green, Kentucky, to Nashville, Tennessee.
I'm listening to the radio for once, hearing random country songs from my South Carolinian youth, no Spotify algorithm required. I can't wait to eat some southern food, hear some live music and have a look around.
My family and I just returned from Mexico last night, but my writing assignment is justification for an increasing desire to do something solo.
During the pandemic I lived in a one-bedroom apartment in Newcastle with my wonderful partner. I hardly had any alone time, bar one quick yoga retreat. Now, back in North America for over a month, I have been constantly surrounded by friends and family. I am not complaining. I love people to a fault. My gregariousness is my greatest strength, but I'm thrilled to have a night in Nashville by myself. What better place to be alone than the lonesome music capital?
I started with Parnassus, a large independent bookstore owned by Nashville novelist Ann Patchett and her business partner, Karen Hayes. I decided to browse before the music got going. Welcoming and COVID-safe, they sell many books catering to those of the left leaning persuasion. I bought six, by authors James Baldwin, John McWhorter, Imani Perry, Mary Oliver, Nietzsche and a biography, What Would Dolly Do?.
I hunted for food around the strip mall where Parnassus is located. I did a double take at "The Donut Den." I don't love doughnuts, but something about the neon sign and cute little old lady behind the counter summoned me. I bought the biggest sweet they have - Is it a doughnut? Is it a bear claw? The lady told me it has cherries in it - good, it's healthy.
I had missed my chance to pre-book tickets to the renowned Bluebird Cafe, a Nashville acoustic must-do. Founded in 1982 as a restaurant with music on the side, the music stole the show. They sell out shows every night. The musicians playing at the 90-person venue make it authentic and special.
This is where musicians go to get their start, get noticed. Garth Brooks, Taylor Swift and Faith Hill have all performed here.
I popped in early at 4:30pm and discovered the wait-list line for walk-ins has already started outside. I jumped in and immediately started making friends. The woman next in line was originally from Turkey, now living in upstate New York. A mum to teenagers and a psychologist, she told me people in the North are supposed to be so open-minded, but they're so quick to negatively judge The South.
I've found similarities in many Australians, who are happy to visit Los Angeles, Las Vegas, New York and Chicago but dismissive about this part of the country. They're missing the best parts!
The woman is considering relocating. "Come on down!" I said.
After an hour in the cold, we were stoked to make it inside. Tonight's musicians were Tammy Rogers of the bluegrass band SteelDrivers and Thomm Jutz who's songs have been recorded by John Prine among many others. They did several stunning, sad songs. "No drinking during gospel songs," Jutz jokes.
They sang fun songs too like Speakeasy Blues, but the sad stuff always gets to me. One song, On Your Own, particularly resonates tonight.
My new friend is keen for more and had not heard about Sunday night bluegrass jams at my next destination. Of course, I brought her with me.
Known for Americana, bluegrass and roots, The Station Inn was founded in 1974. Since 1981, it has been located in "The Gulch" on the southern outskirts of the city. It's seen some greats including Bill Monroe, Ralph Stanley, Dolly Parton, Randy Travis and Reba McEntire. But tonight is all about the locals. Young and old, folks just show up and start singing and playing an amalgamation of stringed instruments together! Others, like me, just sit back and enjoy with a Coke or beer. I was happy to listen and to sneak snippets for my Instagram. I love that it's free and family friendly.
I tapped my boots for about an hour. My friend and I agreed it's such a shame I have to go write this story - the night is young and we're right next to Music Row. But I left her to the banjos and headed to the Best Western. I had thoughts to write down and a giant pastry to inhale.
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