JRadhirsch

We arrived in Nashville last night and had quite the welcome to Nashville experience. Martin, our couch surfing host has a house boat which we had solo use of for the time we spent in Nashville. Our own house boat!

Here's my iphone working its gps magic to show you where on Percy Priest Lake we were

and where specifically on the dock we were

Sweet. We arrived about an hour before we were supposed to meet up with him and were adopted by other residents of the docks. We talked a little bit of politics as the debate was about to start (they are all mostly Republicans,) but then switched the topic to Football. The Titans are a much loved team in Nashville and they are doing really well this year after having the promise of a good team for years and never fulfilling on it. After meeting Martin an hour later, we were introduced to the residents of Dock D around his boat who we would end up partying through the night with. The Marina has a local restaurant and outdoor performance space on a dock and one of the hottest local bands, the Red Neck Yacht Club played for hours.

They are a mixture of Bluegrass and honky tonk and rocked that dock something fierce. Dare I call it a ho-down? oh, I dare. We danced, clapped, and sang through the night, ignoring one apparently homophobic song with the lyrics: "I never gonna go to Brokeback mountain, that shit ain't right" We danced anyway, letting the politics brush pass us enjoying that they were enjoying and experiencing the other half as it were. It's one of the thing I wanted to experience on this road trip and I got to in the most fun way possible. I feel guilty writing about it, but it was an authentic event with authentic people who welcomed us in even knowing our politics.

We woke up the next morning to this view out the starboard window:

We snuggled for a long time in OUR VERY OWN HOUSE BOAT (sorry about that, it still excites me. I mean come on, our very own house boat? Couchsurfing is the best way to travel period. Handsdown. Pass Go, collect 2 hundred dollars. a houseboat.) and then went for breakfast at the famous Pancake Pantry located next to the Vandibilt campus. the ubiquitous line stretch for an hour or so and when we were seated couldn't stop ordering things.

Let me tell you about something called Country Ham. It's Bacon, but better. I don't know the anatomy of where it comes from, but it's a thick slice of meaty bacon with a healthy strip of fat down one side and salty good. Justine had 5 of the fluffiest blueberry pancakes (topped with homemade blueberry compote) and I had sweet potato pancakes with warm cinnamon syrup. We also ordered hash browns and grits to which prompted the table next to us to ask where we were from as I poured syrup on my grits. I "offended" his southern upbringing by using something other than butter and salt on them. I didn't care (he didn't really either) and ate them making yummy sounds. An hour later we were Wrecked by Breakfast (tm, Justine Smith, 2008) unable to move or motivate to do anything besides lay down in the park. Luckily for us, the second park we landed in had one of the symbols of Nashville: a full sized replica of the Parthenon.

once we had digested most of our breakfast, we decided to find the Grand Ole Opry. Wow. I had no idea. The owner closed Opryland theme park a decade ago to open the Opry Mills shopping Mall in its place and we were stunned by commerce. Inside the Mall is a Gibson guitar store and factory. Dad, this picture was taken for you of one of the work benches in the fiddle plant:

The opry was in performance that night, but we didn't have tickets. Next time I'm getting tickets. We instead opted for the gift shop and avoided spending hundreds of dollars on gaudy western wear and cowboy hats. Following that we found the Opry Museum and were awed by its history, prominence, and contributions to American culture (even if it wasn't my own culture) The get ups these guys sported rivaled Elvis and I can't believe that they weren't immediately kicked out for dressing so flamboyantly.

Later that night we got lost and then found the crunkest fish in town,East Side Fish.

We got there as they were closing and were only able to taste their fish sandwiched which were hand battered in cornmeal batter and deep friedn to a golden yum. While eating in our car we were approached by a black gentlemen evangelizing. I told him that we were Jewish which stopped him in his tracks and he then retreated only to return with a woman five minutes later with a question to ask: What did that mean, to be Jewish? The four of us then spent about half an hour talking about the finer points of Judaism and Christianity and the difference between the religions. They were fascinated and I in them. It was really beautiful and moving. Here we were at 10pm in a parking lot in the "wrong side" of town discussing spirituality. Us from California, them from Tennessee peering into each other's ideas of faith. They called our meeting heaven sent, I called it serendipity. It amounted to the same thing and they were able to appreciate where I came from and I them.

ah road trips. I love them so much