Nashville rules. Seriously. When I got in on Thursday night, I was exhausted and Kevin was starving and so we went to a local tavern and got some bar food and local beer. Of course they still allow smoking everywhere in Nashville – everywhere – and sometimes you’d think it was actually mandated. Like, you must have a lit cigarette in order to enter this establishment. So everything I brought smells like smoke, and by day 4 my throat was destroyed, but other than that it was awesome.
Friday, Kevin had to work, so I occupied my time wandering around East Nashville – a great little artist enclave neighborhood. There’s a nice coffee shop, a record store, several bars, a few vintage/antique shops, a place called the Garage Mahal that is a big art gallery/boutiquey kind of place. The proprietors were really sweet – everyone was really sweet, actually, in that southern sort of way – and I chatted with them for a bit. There’s also a VW bus that operates as a hot dog cart, complete with beef, turkey and soy dogs. They don’t have any seating, so they provide a basket full of picnic blankets for people to sit on. It’s adjacent to a garden shop that’s open to the public to sit in and enjoy, too. Anyway, the VW bus is called “I Dream of Weenie” and proclaims itself as “Nashville’s only full-service Weenery.” Pretty funny, those southerners.
Friday night, Kevin and I went to the Calypso Café for dinner, which was kind of meh, but I could see how it could also be really really good. I think I just ordered the wrong stuff. After that, we drove around the Parthenon – yes, the Parthenon. Apparently, the elder statesmen of the City of Nashville thought that it would be a reasonable and prudent use of municipal funds to erect an exact replica of the ancient Greek temple. Anyway, right near the Parthenon is the Best Bar in America – Springwater Supper Club and Lounge, where “Supper Club and Lounge” = dive bar.
From the minute I walked in the place, I knew it was home. Where to begin? The patrons were amazing – there was a guy in non-ironic, non-erotic leather chaps, a woman in full camo gear, peace-sign earrings, pink crocs, and a belt buckle that would emasculate Clint Eastwood. There was a middle aged dude in white coveralls, tube socks and loafers, who kept his sunglasses on inside, and whom we nicknamed “future Nate.” Shortly after we arrived a metal band in full Pantera-esque regalia took the stage in the back room and rocked out like they arrived in a phone booth from 1991. Speaking of time-traveling phone booths, that night we went to the midnight showing of Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure at the local arthouse theatre, the Belcourt. They served free ice cream and if we had arrived a little earlier, we could have bought cans of PBR from the concession stand.
Saturday, we got up early and had, er, brunch at the weenie wagon, and then did a little thrifting. We went to the Farmer’s Market, which is really more like a bazaar that has three shelters – one for the flea market section, one for the farmer’s market, and a third for the gardening section. It was a sight to behold and we bought a ton of food for, like, $12. Kevin also bought a beautiful red dahlia (the official flower of both Mexico and San Francisco, who knew?) that he named Pebbles. Raise your hand if you remember “Mercedes Boy” because Kevin didn’t. Also, Nashville has a lesbian-owned-and-operated tour bus that’s bright pink and, oh yeah, awesome.
After that we checked out
Yazoo Brewing Co., Nashville's answer to the Brooklyn Brewery. I got a pint of the tried-and-true Pale Ale, and Kevin got a formidable sampler of six 8 oz. pours.
It was good, and then we sauntered over to Whole Foods to purchase the balance of our dinner/brunch ingredients – oh yeah, forgot to mention that ALL Kevin had in his fridge when I arrived was a bottle of water and two six packs of High Life. And not a crumb of food in his cupboards. Anyway, we made dinner together like old times, and watched
7 Up and 7 Plus Seven on Netflix, and crashed out pretty early. Brunch the next day was soy chorizo hash, with eggs for Kevin and soy yogurt for me, and was 100% yum. We did some more shopping, and went to an art opening at a
new tattoo parlor, and then went, of course, to Springwater. We drank a pitcher of Labatt’s for $5.75 (!) and had mediocre tacos from
Taco Party, the lesbian-operated taco stand adjacent to Springwater. If we’d had another pitcher of Blue those tacos would have been ballin’, but for two kids who lived in the Mission, we’ve got standards.
We then met up with Jason Russo and the Hopewell boys, and their resident photographer & Jay’s gf, Alex. We had a few drinks, and were joined by the inimitable James Jackson Toth who drove up from Murfreesboro to hang for the night. The boys played a gig at The End, which really feels like it might be where the Apocalypse will originate. The opening band was headed up by an arguably insane person who was clinically obsessed with Jane’s Addiction and sported a shiny new Porno for Pyros tattoo. They did a couple unbearable covers, including Tahitian Moon and Head Like Hole (apparently the love was for all things early-90’s). Hopewell rocked, as per usual, but we made haste to downtown so I could experience some of the schlocky honky-tonks where aspiring country singers and plump tourists loiter. It was fun, though and we made our way home, thoroughly exhausted.
Monday, my last day, was packed to the brim with fun fun fun. We slept in, ate breakfast leftovers, and drove down to Murfreesboro to the Nashville Renaissance Festival. Holy shit. I mean, it was your standard Ren Faire, but the cookiness is exacerbated by the heat. And there’s nothing more awesome that people with southern accents affecting a middle English dialect. Near the Ren Faire, there exists a homemade castle, built by a man with far too much time on his hands and an affection for castles and camp. Admission to the Faire includes a free tour of Castle Gwynn, though, so of course we had to go. Unfortunately, we were accompanied by the Worst Family On Earth, which included an uncle, I think, who was swearing at people the whole time and threatened to beat his nephew with a belt for reasons unknown. He wore a grey shirt with an American flag and a vicious looking eagle that declared “American and Proud of It.” So, that was interesting. What the heck was that guy doing at a Ren Faire?
We were starved, and not particularly interested in Nashville’s version of food-stand pizza, so we went to Nashville’s only all-vegetarian Indian restaurant. The food was delicious, and despite our fully bellies, we rallied the energy to go see John Oliver’s stand up act at Zanie’s. He ruled, and I followed him out of the club, and banged on the windows of his Tahoe so that we could get a picture together. I wanted to invite him out with us, but his driver was complaining that there were going to miss a flight. So that sucked/ruled.
After the comedy act we had a few hours to kill before my friend Reno was dj-ing. So we went to Foobar, another local dive, for New Kids on the Karaoke Block. Again, awesome times ten. We met yet another Nate, who was celebrating his bachelor party and invited both me and Kevin to his wedding. I think Kevin might actually go. Later that night, Nate delivered to me a note that said “Don’t leave Nashville.” It was cute. We made a few more friends, and lo and behold, the girl from Taco Party was hosting karaoke night! The crowd at Foobar was amazing – there was a serious lesbian contingency, a few anarchists, a secret Jesus freak who has remarkably good and incompatible music taste, and a dude on a scooter-tour of the country.
We took Jesus and Scooter with us to Reno’s gig, but not before we got pulled over and nearly arrested. The details of that story, however, are not going to be posted here. If you want the juicy bits, send me an email. At 3am, a mere six hours before my plane left, Kevin had to drag me out of the Five Spot, screaming, I don’t want to go!!!!
But I went, begrudgingly, and managed to make my plane the next day. Coming back to cold grey New York after a non-stop, fun-packed weekend in sunny Nashville was kind of a bummer, but it’s good to be back with my people and my kitties. Enjoy the pics.
In sum, I highly recommend Nashville if you are interested in any of the following:
> Dive Bars
> Large Belt Buckles
> Lesbians
> Puns
> Anarchy
> Karaoke
> Huge scary churches
> Tiny shack churches
> Jane's Addiction fans
> Smoking
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