All the world’s a cage; and, the men and women merely prisoners.

I have been on the road for about a month and a half now.  Yesterday, I walked the streets of the Country Music Capital of the World — Nashville, TN.   Last night I ate dinner at the Applebee’s in The Mule Capital of the World — Columbia, TN.  I’m not sure how strongly contested that latter title is, but I can tell you that when you see that honorific on a sign posted in a restaurant right as you bite into your hamburger, it gives you pause.

Nashville didn’t do it for me, and I know that I am not being fair when I say that.  I really only went for the award-winning bathroom at the Hermitage Hotel, but then decided to take in the sights.  There is something about the skyline of the city that makes one feel like an unauthorized hobbit approaching mordor with contraband jewelry. (pic related)

The feeling doesn’t get any better when you discover that it is the AT&T building. (pic related)

OK, so maybe you aren’t a LOTR geek, or a conspiracy kook like me, but even still, you have to admit there is something unsettling about the headquarters of a telecommunications giant looming over a city like a humongous one-eyed demon king, lord of all it surveys!  Right?

The Hermitage is high-end.  The staff is courteous to the point of obsequiousness – stepping forward to trigger automatic doors for folks who are approaching, bowing or diverting their eyes every time they speak to a visitor.

Across from the Hermitage is a public parking lot — $2.50 per hour with a $10 max for the day.  Tough to find, but a great deal compared to the others that were nearby — $9 per hour – no daily cap.

It was a short walk to the downtown area.  I passed the court district, which meant small parks.  Which meant the homeless.  It is tough walking from a place that has down-covered toilets seats, past desperate people with large bundles of their filthy belongings en route to the glitzy and gaudy area to be entertainment.  But, within 5 blocks, I had experienced all of that.

Broadway in Nashville is…awful.  I dunno, maybe it was my mood.  The lyrics to Poison’s “Something To Believe In” kept playing in my head…

“…A mile away live the rich folks
And I see how they’re living it up
While the poor they eat from hand to mouth
The rich are drinkin’ from a golden cup…”

I’ve always had a problem with the expression, “There, but for the grace of God, go I” because, if you think about it, what it is also saying is, “There, because of the other side of God that we don’t like to talk about, goes THAT motherfucker.  Poor bastard.”

And, just like that, I emerged into the garish neon district.  (gallery related)

Everything is a saloon. Hundreds of them.  They all have live music, which is demarcated with this quaint little mass-produced sign.  (PICK related,,,haha)

The most famous of these locations is, of course, Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge.  I will be honest.  I had never heard of it.  But, everybody talks about it like it is the place to be.  I think it is the purple building.  I can’t be sure.  I took a lot of photos.  (pic may be related)

is it just me, or does it seem like AT&T is leaning in to photobomb every shot?

They had a hawker out front yelling at folks to, “COME ON IN!”  So, I did.  Sort of.  I’ve seen pickle jars packed less tightly.  Tootsie’s threw me back to my basic training days when we troops would get stuffed into cattle cars while the Drill Sergeants instructed us to, “Make your buddy smile!”  No one, no matter how drunk, could be enjoying this.  I exited right away.

I passed this guy (against the wall with the guitar)

He was there. With his cardboard box for tips.  He was strumming and singing gently.  No one but me seemed to listen.  Hell, the bustle of the crowd (not pictured) made it difficult to hear him.  And, it fucked me up.  A thousand times I have walked briskly by street performers just like everyone was doing now.  This time I decided to stop for a moment.

This guy is the milkshake of country music singers — his voice was thick and rich and creamy and he gave off an aura of being made from the natural ingredients of a C&W performer.  In short, he was great.

I am slamming on Nashville — I know it.  But, I think I know why.  This city was built on something that is the exact opposite of what it has become.  Or, maybe I don’t know what the hell I am talking about.

Tourists come to the C&W World Capital and walk right by someone, who, for all I know…but for the grace of God, could have been Johnny Cash.  And, all we want is to get to the souvenir shop.  The stuff we have been told to see.  Once again we eat what they feed us and not what we hunger for.

And, this guy — he has talent, skill, passion and he plays for the tips that stranger’s toss him when they feel sorry for him.

(Poison again, “…and, it just makes me wonder why so many lose and so few win…

Give me something to believe in…”)

I get the sense Nashville once oozed a unique charm, that made it one of America’s great cities…but now, it is just another amusement park that caters to those who can afford the admission.   I’m sorry.

I left.  I drove south with Rockwell playing in my head…

I always feel like…somebody’s WAAATCHING me!

Fully aware that I enjoy this freedom by the grace of Trixie.