Archive | Community RSS feed for this section

I Can’t Believe It’s Been 25 Years

21 Aug

Man, this was an interesting weekend. Why? Because I did something that I thought I would never do. I went to my 25th class reunion. My life got a lot better after high school, and it never occurred to me that those years should be celebrated. Besides, I didn’t like most of the people then, so what would make me think that I would like them now. In the end, however, my good friends from the school years convinced me that it would be fun, for no other reason than to see who had gone into decline since we last saw them. With that in mind, I ventured into the land of:

Of course, the night began with some mingling, and, to my surprise, I ran into people who I actually liked. A guy that I went to school with from kindergarten on up. My buddy from home room. One of my old college roommates. A girl who I had a crush on but failed to get her to notice only to have her have a crush on me in our 20s. It turned into a longer list than I ever imagined. Honestly, I avoided most of the people who I perceived to have slighted me in some way in times gone by, but I talked to a few of them, too.

One of the most interesting things was finding out what they do for a living. I conversed with:

a college professor

a telephone repairman

a furniture mover

a manager of a fast food restaurant

a chimney sweep

a nightclub owner

a professional drummer

a waiter

a couple of drug dealers (the legal kind)

Overall, it was a wide variety of professions. Then, dinner commenced, and the voyeur in me discovered something else interesting. People sat in their high school groupings. Cheerleaders sat with cheerleaders. Jocks sat with jocks. Music nerds sat with music nerds. Regular nerds sat with regular nerds. There were some people who didn’t fit in any category, so they had a table to themselves.

The dinner conversation at my table was about marriages, kids and divorces. I haven’t participated in any of those, so I ate rubber chicken. After dinner, the reunion committee, which was an attempt at including a representative from each of the groups I mentioned, made their presentations. The strangest part was when the music nerd on the committee sang the song that he always performed in the talent show. That’s when I sauntered into the bar for libations and gossip among my folks. This is where the night became fun because we talked about the different creatures that were in attendance.

The Woman Who Left Her Husband For An Older, Rich Guy – Everyone knows this one, so I don’t have much explaining to do.

According to the Supreme Court, this one turned out well.

The Woman Who Left Her Slightly Successful Husband For A Younger Man – This creature has been increasing in numbers during the 21st Century. Apparently, it is revenge for the existence of the above creature.

According to TMZ and other outlets, this one turned out well.

The Slightly Weird Guy Who Became A Horror-Movie Watching Mountain Man – Admittedly, this one is rare. However, they make an impact when they appear.

I don’t think this one appeared at his class reunion.

The Token Nerd That The Jocks Befriended And Made Him Think He Was One Of Them – This is my least favorite creature. They are more arrogant than their pack but have less athletic ability. This means that they have no redeeming qualities.

This one turned out well, as he fought the dearly departed Arnold Horshack in a “celebrity” boxing match.

The Guy Who The Girls Fawned Over That Turned Into A Stoner – This one walked around bleary-eyed in high school. Apparently, that is more appealing that walking around bleary-eyed at middle-aged.

He’s pointing at the purple hippo floating in the sky.

The Annoying Girl Who Had No Friends In High School And Apparently Has No Friends Now – Actually, I felt bad for this one and made a point to have a conversation with her. She still has the whiny voice that she had then.

I think she has gone on to a lucrative career in television advertising.

Obviously, there were several species in attendance, including myself – The Nerdy Guy Who Liked To Study And Had A Hard Time Talking To Girls But Had A Semi-Cool Car.

I left with my friends to have dinner at a local restaurant because the food at the reunion sucked. It was there that we talked about how we were glad that we went and how we wouldn’t be back until the 50th one. Hopefully, we will make it that far.

Tags: , , ,

It Takes a Village

20 Jul

There is a neighborhood in Nashville that sits between Vanderbilt University and Belmont University. It is called Hillsboro Village and is home to a collection of eclectic stores, restaurants and hangout spots. It is also one of my favorite parts of the city and the place that I spent last evening.

The choices of Hillsboro Village are plentiful, and I have tried most of them. Painting ceramics at All Fired Up is something cool. Bosco’s is a great place to grab an appetizer and a drink. There is also Fido’s, an old pet shop that has been turned into a coffee shop. Perhaps, the most famous spot in the Village is The Pancake Pantry, a breakfast mecca where Nashvillians stand in the waiting line as a rite of passage.

My girlfriend and I didn’t hit any of those places last night because we were headed to the best thing about the neighborhood, the Belcourt Theater.

It is not large and decadent like Atlanta’s Fox Theater, but it has an interesting history. Opened in 1925, the theater showed silent films and became the temporary home of the Grand Ole Opry. Later, it became a playhouse and concert hall. Today, it is a great place to see independent films and concerts. Big Bonus! Alcohol is sold at the same concession stand where you can buy Goober’s.

We saw Moonrise Kingdom, a Wes Anderson film with Bruce Willis, Edward Norton, Bill Murray, Tilda Swinton and Frances McDormand. However, the stars were the two kids who the story revolved around. In case someone wants to see the movie, I will not write about the story, but it was a great film. I always like seeing big stars in small movies because they seem to be doing it for love rather than money.

After the movie, we walked across the street to Taps, a restaurant in an old house.

I wanted to sit on the front porch and enjoy the evening but found the tables filled. At first, I was disappointed to sit inside, but it turned into a treat that only Nashville can provide. On the small stage, if it was even a stage, songwriters took turns playing their songs. Now, songwriters are not great singers, but, when they start playing stuff that you recognize, you listen anyway. The last songwriter had songs that had been recorded by Kenny Rogers, The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and George Strait. Here was a successful songwriter singing his songs in a small restaurant on a side street. As I said, only in Nashville.

What’s more is that he was doing it in a glorified hamburger joint. But, it was a heck of a hamburger. Taps specializes in stuffed hamburgers, and mine was stuffed with habanero and jalapeno peppers. I believe that it was the best hamburger I’ve ever eaten.

Oh, another thing that may only happen in Nashville. My table had Kris Kristofferson’s face painted on it. I tweeted that fact, and a former student and fellow blogger wanted me to link a picture. Alas, I forgot to take one.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Fifth of July

5 Jul

For the Fourth of July, I spent time with some friends who invited me to their pool party and cookout. It was nice of them to ask, and I enjoyed myself very much. The day was spent swimming and hanging out by the pool. People talked, laughed and drank beer while kids ran all over the place. What could be more American than that?

Once dusk began to set in, we went to the park for a cookout and to watch the city’s fireworks show. We had the usual fare – hamburgers, hot dogs, potato salad, baked beans, and any other cookout food you might think of. Some of us guys played Cornhole, which is a terrible name for a game, until we realized that a few of the players should turn professional. How would you like to be that? A professional cornholer.

People started to pour into the park and soon the fireworks show began. Everyone looked into the sky and pretended like they had never seen a fireworks show before. Through the ooh’s and aah’s, I began to think what it must have been like for Francis Scott Key to see real bombs bursting in air at Fort McHenry. I suppose that is the historian coming out in me.

As I thought about Francis, something else entered my mind. Through the entire day’s activities, not one person mentioned what the celebration was about. They talked about having a day off and going back to work tomorrow. They talked about the upcoming football season. They also talked about how hot it has been lately. But, no one talked about it being the anniversary of our nation’s independence. Not even me, the American historian. It seems that the Fourth of July was no different from the Fifth of July.

I have been thinking about this ever since I left the gathering. Have we forgotten what the holiday is all about? Do we care? Have we gotten so comfortable with our freedoms that we take them for granted? On top of that, do we really understand our nation? Do we recognize its good qualities and its bad ones? Honestly, I am not sure.

We have a Pledge of Allegiance, but I made a pledge to myself. I will re-energize myself and make sure that I teach American history to the best of my ability. Sometimes, I get into the day-to-day grind and forget that my job is to prevent the past, with all of its complexities, from being lost. I will not forget again.

There is no way to project the whole of the United States in one photograph, but I want to end this post with, in my opinion, the most “American” photograph in my computer.

That is Keel Drug Store in the small town of Ballinger, Texas. For many years, it was owned and operated by Gene Keel, the father of my late uncle Johnny Keel. I can’t think of anything more American than a small business in a small town with a flag flying out front. Rest in Peace, Johnny. We all miss you.

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Seeing Stars

25 May

Last night, I was having dinner at a local Mexican restaurant when I looked across the patio and saw someone who I recognized. It wasn’t an old friend or acquaintance. It was Gretchen Wilson, a singer who has gained a modicum of fame. I didn’t think much about it, and it seemed that the other diners didn’t think much about it either. However, it gave me an idea for a blog post.

One of the great aspects of Nashville is that you can see someone famous almost anywhere you go. A greater aspect is that those famous people do not get harassed by fans or paparazzi. They do their thing while non-famous Nashvillians do theirs. For example, if you want to see Vince Gill, then all you have to do is go to a Belmont University basketball game. Kenny Chesney shows up each time the University of Tennessee has a game in town. Once, I sat in front of Reba McEntire at a Nashville Predators game, and, last summer, I sat behind Wynonna Judd at a U2 concert. Although I haven’t seen her, I understand that Carrie Underwood and her fantastic legs spend a lot of time at Whole Foods.

Never fear, country stars are not the only people seen in these parts. Once, I played pool at a table next to Nicole Kidman and her husband, Keith Urban. Also, Reese Witherspoon is a native of Nashville. It seems that artists from all genres and endeavors are attracted to our fair city. Nashville isn’t Los Angeles or New York (thank goodness), but it has its fair share of famous people.

As I chewed my enchiladas, I began to think about this part of the Nashville experience and thought about a couple of encounters of my youth.

When I was a kid, my mom and I spent a lot of time at Opryland, a theme park that used to be here and still should be. One afternoon, we were leaving, and my mom needed to go to the restroom. Being the days when parents could leave children for a few minutes without worrying, my mom left me sitting on a bench and eating an ice cream cone. As I sat, an elderly man perched down beside me with an ice cream cone of his own. He asked a few questions but only got one word answers in reply. It was typical nice old man questions, but I was too shy to say too much.

My mom returned and spoke with him for a few minutes before we went on our way. Once we left hearing range, she asked if I knew who that was. I said that I didn’t, and she told me that it was Roy Acuff. Don’t know who that was? He was known as the “King of Country Music” and was the genre’s first superstar. I had been eating ice cream with a legend.

As a teenager I, like a lot of teenagers in the 80s, hung out at the mall. Unlike  a lot of teenagers in the 80s, I hung out at the bookstore in the mall. One day, I stood in front of a bookshelf, the history section I guess, with my head buried in a book. In the midst of reading, I felt someone walk up behind me and just stand there. It was like they were reading the same book over my shoulder. Honestly, it wasn’t comfortable. I kept reading and hoping they would move when the man behind me yelled for his son. I knew immediately who it was.

I turned my head to say hello, and he replied, “Hello, I’m Johnny Cash.” Well, he didn’t actually say that. He said something along the lines of how are you. The most interesting thing was that the “Man in Black” was wearing black sweatpants, a black sweatshirt and white tennis shoes.

So, if you are ever in Nashville keep an eye open. You might see a star. Just remember to act like a Nashvillian and not bother them. That’s one of reasons Nashville is great. Although, it’ll probably be alright to say hello or stare at Carrie’s legs.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A Friday in Nashville

1 May

On Friday morning, I headed to the large city to the west for some appointments. It was “reading day” at school – which meant no classes and students, ahem, studying for this weeks exams. The plan was to sleep late, but the appointments started coming at me on Thursday afternoon. So, there I was all dressed up with a bunch of places to go.

My first stop was at a lawyer’s office on Deaderick Street. Driving this street has always made me a little uncomfortable because it includes the word “dead” and my name, “Rick”. Bad omens everywhere. Despite my concerns, I made it to the parking garage safely and wound up the ramp until I finally found a spot. Upon hitting the sidewalk, the realization hit that I was in Nashville. A man walked briskly past me while muttering to himself. I picked up the words “God” and “Hooters” but couldn’t make out anything else. I am sure it was an interesting conversation, however.

After carefully crossing the dreaded street, I entered the building of destination and took the elevator to the 17th floor to sign some legal documents. There is one thing that you should all remember. If an attorney rents an entire floor of a skyscraper, then you are paying some big bucks. (Try googling “big bucks” and see what you get.)

After the meeting, I had some time to kill before meeting my friend for lunch. I drove around downtown and realized that it is a very different place during work hours. People were scurrying everywhere like worker ants carrying leaves. Except, the leaves were brief cases and boxes and all sorts of items. I like when women wear high heels, but, damn, it looks uncomfortable walking on a city sidewalk.

The hustle and bustle of downtown was getting to me, so I went to the Midtown area and the brand new Barnes and Noble at Vanderbilt University – otherwise known as my crack house. However, I passed a sad sight along the way. An entire block was being demolished. Happens all the time, right? Except, this isn’t just any block. It used to be home to Tower Records, a place that I have spent countless hours searching for music, both popular and rare. It is indeed sad to see the record store go away. It reminded me that bookstores are not far behind.

At the bookstore, I bought something. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t go into one and not come out with a book. Anyway, I bought Where the Tall Grass Grows: Becoming Indigenous and the Mythological Legacy of the American West by Bobby Bridger. I know – it sounds fascinating, but I haven’t started yet. I first had to finish riding out a starkblast with Roland Deschain and his ka-tet.

Ok, I killed enough time before meeting my friend at his office. He invited me to a meet and greet lunch at the swank Nashville City Club. Well, it’s swank if you consider early 70s decor to be swank. It is a private dinner club in a Nashville penthouse and has been the location of a lot of moving and shaking for decades. However, I get the feeling that it is struggling to maintain its grandeur.

We made our way back to the downtown area and found it more crowded than it was earlier. It turns out that they were preparing for the next day’s marathon. After struggling to find a parking place and ending up in the same garage where I had been earlier, we made our way to the swank. Surprisingly, my meal was good with fried chicken and waffles covered in raspberry syrup and a side of fried jalapenos.

More surprisingly, the meet and greet was good, and it included some interesting folks.

The Dean of the Business School from my university.

My friend who sells pencils and balloons.

There was a mason who works with historic preservationists.

Beside him was an owner of billboards.

Across the way were two guys who work for a linen company.

Next to them was a lady who works at the City Club and who was wearing some impossibly high heels.

Then, there was me. I didn’t talk about teaching. Instead, I talked about Hamilton Springs, a residential/commercial development based around a commuter train station that my brother and I are working on.

I don’t make it to the weekday, daytime version of Nashville very often. But, this day turned out decently.

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Rockin’ Rotary

19 Apr

Ten years ago, I was accepted into the local Rotary Club. I am not one of the more active members – alas, I will never be asked to serve on the board of directors or be an officer – but I show up at most meetings and pay my dues on time. That’s more than can be said for many members.

Those of us who show up on a consistent basis take part in a meeting format that has been in place for a hundred years. We don’t have secret handshakes or top-secret rituals like the Masons, and we definitely aren’t trying to control the world. However, there are Rotary guidelines (at least I think they are guidelines that all clubs follow) that we adhere to on a weekly basis.

First, we eat. This would probably be my favorite part if the food was any good. We meet at the local country club, and the cuisine leaves a lot to be desired. I understand that it is tough to cook for a large crowd, but there must be some tricks to the trade. The only trick that our kitchen has is mixing things up with cauliflower. We went two years with cauliflower every week. Cauliflower and carrots. Cauliflower and corn. Cauliflower and peas. They must have gotten an extra shipment or something.

The meat is not much better. The meatloaf is a little weird, but you know how meatloaf is – good or bad and no in between. We all look forward to the days of something fried. Everything tastes alright when fried.

After the meal, if you can call it that, the meeting officially starts. We are called to order because there is a lot of banter around the room, and everyone has to stand. Here, we pray and place hands over hearts for the Pledge of Allegiance.

(Sidenote: I have been placing my hand over my heart for the Pledge as long as I can remember. However, I don’t remember this always being the practice for the National Anthem. Politicians get in trouble for not doing it during the song, but I don’t think anyone did it until 9/11. If I am wrong, then let me know.)

We don’t sit down after the Pledge. Instead, we grab the songbooks for a rousing concert of a couple of tunes. It’s usually something like “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” or “Home on the Range”. Imagine a bunch of grown people singing that. Then, the Sergeant of Arms tells a few jokes and introduces the guests. At one time, we had a pretty hot woman (at least I thought she was pretty hot) serve in this role and tell bawdy jokes. The old men really liked that. But, some preachers complained, and she was asked to stop. Preachers always know how to mess up a good time. She doesn’t come to Rotary anymore.

Once the fun and frivolity is over, it is time for the guest speaker. Sometimes it is interesting, and sometimes it is not. It’s educational, anyway.

So, that’s the short version of a Rotary meeting. Believe me, it seems a lot longer in person. I don’t really see the point of it all, but there is one good thing about it. The conversation during mealtime is always entertaining. You see, Rotary is like church where people sit in the same seat every time. If someone else is sitting there, then upset feelings will no doubt follow. I was raised as a good Baptist, so it is natural for me to sit in the back. That way I can skip out unnoticed. The problem is that my whole table skips out, and it’s noticeable. We are the slacker table in the Rotary mindset but not slackers for real. While others sit around for a couple of hours, we actually get up and go to work. Or, pretend like it.

Our table usually includes a college professor (me), a bread salesman, a convenience store owner, a chiropractor, a lady who used to cook at the country club but is retired (she complains about the food, too), a bank president who works more on his hair than he does at the bank, and a retired veteran who thinks he is funny but really isn’t. We talk local issues but spend most of the time picking on each other.

Folks at other tables include the aforementioned preachers, a body shop owner, one of the Cracker Barrel founders, other people from my school, and people who have been pillars of the community longer than I have been alive.

Overall, I guess I like being in Rotary. The meetings are a little goofy, but tradition often is. Mainly, I like it because I have met a lot of people who I consider friends. However, I haven’t learned to like cauliflower.

Tags: , , , ,

Newer Entries →