Timothy Birdnow

Sorry to have been AWOL for a few days; I was in Nashville Tennessee attending the wedding of my nephew.

It was a wonderful event and a rather strange but nonetheless enjoyable trip.

My wife and I rode down with her sister and her family (which included my old friend Chuck). We rented a big SUV for the six hour drive, a hulking Ford Expedition, but STILL barely had enough room to squeeze everybody and everything inside. We were going for a wedding and so needed several changes of clothes as well as things we would need to look the part (makeup and hair stuff for the ladies, plus the usual extras required of the two girls in their late teens in attendance). My wife has trouble sitting for long periods, too, due to her medical issues, but there was nothing to be done. She sat in the second row of seats with all of our hanging clothes (my suit, her dresses, etc.) completely blotting out the view from the window. I was given the front seat since I am horribly prone to motion sickness (I once ruined a trip to the wineries in Augusta Missouri by vomiting BEFORE we even reached one of them!)

So, stuffed in like Vienna sausages in a can, we set sail for the Deep South.

Chuck drove while I rode shotgun, looking for hostile Indians or Mexican banditos. I knew better than suggest I drive; I would have been met with a universal shout of protest, and most likely someone would have clubbed me over the head and taken the keys; my eyesight doesn't make for much confidence in my driving, although I see myself as doing fine. Granted, so too did Mr. Magoo...

At any rate it was smooth sailing until we reached the Illinois/Kentucky border and the Ohio River. There was road construction and we sat at a standstill for a while, then inched along at turtle speed for an unacceptable time. But we eventually got through the bottleneck and was back on the road to Mandalay (or Nashville, rather.)

We were coming in early evening and wanted to stop for supper outside of town. We were quite surprised to find Nashville a compact city, with little in the way of exurbs or even suburbs. You just drove straight into town.

It was a beautiful skyline, shiny and new and bespoke great prosperity and vibrant youth.

We were staying at the World Omni next to the Country Music Hall of Fame, a beautiful hotel that was hideously expensive but was on site for the wedding. Since my nephew's party had booked enough rooms they gave a few upgrades to suites, and Mike very generously offered one of the upgrades to Cathy and me. It probably cost comfortably more than the mortgage on my first house per DAY! We were on the 18th floor and had an absolutely breathtaking view of downtown Nashville, and as we were on a corner suite we so could see a lot of the city sparkling below us. As I say, it was breathtaking! Floor to ceiling windows! We also had big screen televisions and an actual table to sit at.

Despite being so high up we could still hear the rowdy folks on the streets below. This is a major party town, and there was a lot of hooting and hollering and general merriment. I don't know if Nashville is always like this or if it was because it was a holiday weekend but it was like St. Louis on one of the big celebrations, people everywhere in the streets, party buses and peddle-bars going past (for those who do not know, peddle-bars are little trolly-like things that the people peddle to make move. They serve drinks as the patrons peddle from one drinking establishment to another.) It was WILD! I would have loved it when I was young.

At any rate Cathy and I needed to eat and went down to the honky tonk in the hotel, where we ran into a few extended family members who had been there for some time and were quite in the spirit of things (and we in fact so in the spirit they generously put us on their tab). We sat on an overcrowded bench. I was on the end when the bench collapsed, spilling myself and poor Cathy (who was sore enough from the trip and her medical treatments) to the ground hard. Luckily Cathy landed on me, which broke her fall (I was lucky too; I had a good soft concrete floor to break mine.) Now I'm a big guy but sheesh! I've never had a bench collapse on me before!

The waitress had been inattentive to that point. After that she was joannie-on-the-spot; it was a tough way to get service, but it worked. Thankfully nothing but my pride was broken.

At any rate, the next day Cathy and I were going to the Country Music Hall of Fame and explored that as long as Cat held out. We made it through one floor and then had to go back to our suite. But at least we got to do one touristy thing.

But then calamity struck; as we were starting to get ready for the rehearsal dinner (to which we had been kindly invited) I couldn't find my pants. My suit coat was there, my dress shirt, tie, socks, shoes, everything but the PANTS. This was a disaster, as I only had shorts otherwise.

I ran down to the shop that was on the first floor, but they had only dresses for women and no men's pants. I toyed with the idea of transgenderism momentarily, but alas there was no dress in my size.The woman working there told me there was a shop "not far" outside the hotel.

I hotfooted it out. I had half an hour to find a pair of pants and get dressed and down to the dinner.

Everybody else in Nashville decided to go pants shopping too. The city was partying like Mardi Gras and I had to went my way through throngs of revelers in a desperate search for the pants store. I went a LOT farther than "not far" and never did find that place. I did almost find a heart attack and shallow grave though as I was sucking for air like a trout thrown onto the bank of a river. I am not in the best of shape and my heart condition makes me prone to being winded anyway, and I was moving with great haste. My legs had turned to rubber too. I had to give up without finding that accursed place, and fight my way through a bunch of rowdy partiers to get back to our hotel.

Chuck had a pair of sweat pants with an elastic waist that looked almost like dress pants, and although they were about 18 sizes too small I managed to wriggle them up to where they were not visible under my suit coat. I was tighter than a hot dog in a skin. But I was able to pass as properly dressed - or at least properly enough.

I had to implant myself in those twice in two nights; it was like wearing a new skin. But at least it made me acceptable in polite company. I felt a little like Jethro Bodine, the dumb hick hobnobbing with the beautiful people, but what the heck!

Both events were beautiful. The dinner was held in one of the restaurants at the hotel, and it was a splendid affair with good food and an open bar. I imbibed some Jack Daniels and Coke, in honor of the place.

There were speeches. One was by the groom's sister, who when asked what it was like growing up with Mike said he was PITA. When asked what she meant she said pain in the ass! Everyone laughed at that!

The wedding itself was a short affair, done in the open garden at the Country Music Hall of Fame. The weather was a bit threatening but it never rained and we soon retired to a big outer chamber where they were serving drinks and hors de'oeuvres. Shortly thereafter we moved to the main ballroom - a massive hall with a full glass wall with a stunning view of the Nashville skyline. There we were served an utterly delicious meal. I had a kind of briskett that just melted in your mouth, along with au gratin potatoes and a nice salad. Some Mondavi cabernet accompanied it, although I was pretty much cocktailed out so stuck with just one at dinner (well, maybe two) and switched to Diet Coke.

The band was amazing. At least twelve members including a horn section, they played at top professional level and did not stop the entire night. They did a few country songs but played almost every genre, and had a light show and choreography to make for a performance, not a wedding gig. Just incredible! Everyone was up dancing, including my dear wife, who had to hold onto a chair for support but stayed on the dance floor through much of the affair. I went out a few times but mostly had to sit at my table; my legs were still rubberized from my Nashville sojourne downtown, and I was wearing pants that threatened to spit me out like a banana squeezed too hard at the end. I also am a horrible dancer, akin to a hippopotamus having an epileptic seizure. (When I was in high school I attended a dance at an all girls school, and a girl asked me to dance. Half way through she asked "are you drunk?" I had not been drinking, and haven't been dancing much since.)

At any rate Cathy had a marvelous time dancing on the floor, as did everyone else.

So yesterday the time came to bid Nashville adieu and we packed up the Expedition to head home. Funny; we could hardly get all the stuff in and barely squeezed it into the vehicle after great effort. It seemed like we had more stuff than we left with - we didn't, but it sure seemed that way.

Everyone was pretty exhausted. My pants never did make an appearance - they belong to Nashville now. Maybe they'll wind up being mistaken for famous pants and live in the Hall of Fame. At any rate they abandoned me and have gone on to glory.

I was very happy to get home and slept like a baby last night. The bed in Nashville was comfortable but too soft and my back hurt after a few hours in it. (Of course, falling off a bench didn't help.) I've been sleeping in my easy chair for months now so Cathy could have the bed to herself, and it was wonderful to get back into that old friend.

It was a fun trip. Saw a lot of her extended family and enjoyed some adventures. While I doubt I'll be going back any time soon, it was certainly a place I wouldn't mind seeing again.

Posted by: Timothy Birdnow at 10:02 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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