The Hot Spots in Nashville

   It started back in the seventies when Ed Sconiers, the owner of the Tastee Freeze in DeFuniak Springs, Florida, discovered that I attended college in Nashville, Tennessee. You'd have thought he had won the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes, the man was so excited he could hardly stand it. Ed was just sure that it would not be long before Porter and I had made one another's acquaintance and that it would just be a matter of time before I was on a first-name basis with Dolly. It never happened. But what did happen was that all kinds of people started calling me for tips on what to do when they came to visit Ed Sconier's Music City. At first it was just friends of Ed's. And then friends of friends. It's still happening to this day. And it's been a long time.

   And since I was raised by my mother to be helpful whenever possible, I did develop a list of places that are must sees. It has changed and adapted itself over the years. So I reckon it's high time I shared it with you, but be forewarned that there is no way that I am going to be able to cover my Hot Spots in one post, so I'll just have to have a go at it and then we'll see where we end up.

So, without further ado (in no particular order)

The Ryman Auditorium. 

It's known as the Mother Church of Country Music. It was where the Grand Ole Opry started before it moved out to what used to be Opryland (we Nashvillians have still not gotten over that one). In my book, this remains one of the best places to visit whether you are a tourist or not. Most musicians will talk about playing the Ryman with reverence and awe. There really is something magical about it. It's small for a concert hall, old, and it just reeks of history. There are no individual seats here, just row upon row of wooden pews, because after all, this really once was a church. And the honeyed tones of the wood absorb and reflect the sound so that the sound comes out all warm and honeyed as well. If you think I'm lying just read about The Ryman here. Sheryl Crow, Vince Gill, Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton, Wynonna, Bob Dylan, Eric Clapton, BB King, Kings of Leon, Mumford and Sons, Black Keys, Emmylou Harris, Alison Kraus and the list goes on and on and on. You name 'em. They've played the Ryman. Except that it's The Ryman. Kind of like the Holy Grail. It's sacred ground in Music City.

 So go ahead and pay the money and take the tour. You can even stand on the stage and strum the guitar and act like you are singing and they will take your picture and then you have the pleasure of paying for that, as well. But while you are up there squint your eyes and gaze up at those stained glass windows, breathe deeply and imagine. Dream a little. It's what The Ryman does to you. 

It makes you believe. And that's what I love the most about it. 

The Schermerhorn Symphony Center.
   When you visit this lovely lady, you will know without a doubt that Nashville is a city well-deserving of the title Music City. We have come of age. Reputedly ranked among the top ten symphony and performing halls in the world, the Schermerhorn is a stellar newcomer to the stages of Music City and she is all the more enchanting to us because we nearly lost her in the Flood of 2010. The lady Schermerhorn is elegant, refined, and gloriously classical, but with thoughtful contemporary touches here and there. She's a Tennessee girl, after all, and the pride of Tennessee is woven throughout her architecture. If the Ryman is the "Mother," then the Schermerhorn is the newly crowned "Queen," a title she earned all on her own.

The lobby beckons and soars. It gives you a foretaste of the magic within.

  There is truly not a bad seat in the house. I do not lie when I tell you that the acoustics are so refined that if a sheet of music falls to the ground, everyone in the hall is aware of it. Go online to see if a tour is offered. You won't be sorry. As you feast your eyes on the beauty, look around for the Captain's Wheel, the Maxwell House coffee beans, the irises and the lyres, all symbols that call our fair city to mind. The Schermerhorn may belong to Nashville, but the world is her rightful stage. Just ask YoYo Ma.

The NashTrash Tour.

   Do you want to laugh so hard that you wet your pants? Then don't waste a moment more; go online NOW and get your reservation to the The NashTrash Tour. My friends took me for my birthday a few years back. I have never laughed so hard in my life. Now I send everybody I know. It's a once in a lifetime experience. Think Saturday Night Live meets Duck Dynasty. Now you are gettin' my drift. You will find yourself climbing aboard a Pink Party Bus (really a school bus painted Pepto Bismal pink) over at the Nashville Farmer's Market and riding around town for 90 minutes with two sisters who have certainly made a name for themselves. 

This photo of NashTrash Tours is courtesy of TripAdvisor

Oh, and don't forget to bring some adult beverages in a 6-pack size cooler. You won't need any food. The Jugg Sisters thoughtfully provide the Ritz Crackers and the Cheez Whiz in a can. This is one of those times you are just gonna have to go with it. Trust me. If Al Roker did it, you can too.

That's all for today, folks.

Song of My Heart

     They say that music soothes the savage beast...and I would agree that music readily touches my soul, perhaps even more quickly than the written or spoken word. Music is a language all its own, and I wish I knew more about neuropsychology and the way music operates on the brain...wait, no I don't...that would only feed my life-long obsession with the acquisition of knowledge. All I need to know is that music calls to me, music ministers to me, music touches me. Music also ushers me into the presence of God. And there is no more glorious music than the music surrounding the Passion of Christ.
     Like many of you older folk, I grew up with The Old Rugged Cross. My grandparents loved it, my husband's grandparents loved it, and my mother-in-law wanted it played at her memorial service. It was.

On a hill far away stood an Old Rugged Cross, 

the emblem of suffering and shame; 

and I love that old cross where the dearest and best 

for a world of lost sinners was slain.

     I remember as a child wondering why I should love that old cross, for the death that the One died upon it seemed so terrifying and horrible to me, but as I grow older, I have come to value the sacrifice and to see the cross for its terrible and enduring beauty. For in it or upon it, lies the means of grace. The Way to the Father. My way to the Father. The cross represents my adoption record. Fully paid. Fully satisfied. And because of that cross I am afforded the privilege of being the daughter of the Most High, His child. And He is my Abba, my Papa. It still seems unbelievable to me.
     Yet my all-time favorite Easter hymn is the more modern Easter Song written by Keith Greene,

Hear the bells ringing, they're singing that you can be born again

Hear the bells ringing, they're singing Christ is risen from the dead.

The angel up on the tombstone said, "He is risen just as he said. 

Quickly now, go tell his disciples that Jesus Christ is no longer dead."

Joy to the World, He has risen, Hallelujah

He is risen, Hallelujah...

      Without fail, I always cry when I sing this song. I love that it brings Christmas, The Cross, and the Empty Tomb together in such a wonderful way. Joy to the World. Yes! I can seemingly never get enough of all that Christ offers me. Daily I find myself in sore need of His redemption, His grace, and His mercy. I am ever thankful that He freely offers me this and more. I scarce can take it in.

      Be Thou My Vision is not an Easter hymn per se, but this ancient church melody is the cry of my heart today:

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;

Naught be all else to me, save that thou art -

Thou my best thought by day or by night,

Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

           

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,

Thou mine inheritance, now and always

Thou and thou only, first in my heart,

High King of Heaven, my treasure thou art.

    

  High King of Heaven, my victory won,

May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heav'n's sun!

Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,

Still be my vision, O Ruler of All. 

     Without a doubt, I am so very thankful to be His.

Getting to Know You

   A couple of weeks ago this little man, now known as Brother, came to spend a few days with us while The Daughter and her husband got out of Dodge for a few days. I wish that I could say that it was completely and utterly delightful, but the poor little guy was sick the whole time. He mostly wanted to be held and since I didn't have to worry about spoiling him, I was all happy to oblige.
   Brother and our Cavalier spaniel, Wilson, became fast friends during Brother's visit. As I watched them, I was reminded of the song from The King and I Broadway musical. Here's my take on it courtesy of Brother and his new found friend!

Cue the music, please!

Getting to know you,

 Getting to know all about you

 Getting to like you,

 Getting to hope you like me,

Getting to know you

putting it my way,

 

 but nicely,

You are precisely,

My cup of tea!

 Haven't you noticed 

that suddenly I'm bright and breezy

because of all the beautiful and new

things I'm learning about you

day by day...

        Signed and sealed with a kiss,

Two fast friends forever

The Daughter is going to die when she sees some of these photographs. You can guess which ones!

In the Pink....

   The Husband loves his concerts. And it gets even better in his book when the artist combines his or her music with some aspect of showmanship. In that regard we could not be more different. My preference would be for something intimate with acoustic instruments and  a lovely voice or two. For The Husband, the louder and bigger the better. Having said this, you can well imagine that he has found a new love...and her name is Pink. Think Cirque de Soleil combined with Ringling Brothers Greatest Show on Earth and you begin to get the approximation of style that Pink brings to the musical arena. I can't really describe all that she does. It defies description as well as gravity. I am going to stop here as the pictures really do speak for themselves.