There's one in every crowd

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He's a six pack up when he walks in,
Tells the band crank it up to 10,
Then he's up dancin on his seat,
Well he's a big mouth
Yellin' hey play some free bird,
Says give me three steps and nobody gets hurt,
Then he takes off his shirt

There's one in every crowd,
Brings the party in us out,
Good time charley with a harley, whiskey bent and hellbound,
He's got the next round, but he always drinks for free,
There's one in every crowd, and it's usually me.

Today started out with a nice peaceful drive out to Lynchburg, TN to visit the Jack Daniel’s Distillery. About an hour and a half from Nashville, the drive features miles of horse farms with their green pastures, white fences and large country homes.

All of Jack Daniel’s whiskey is made in Lynchburg and then is shipped around the world so I got to see the actual whiskey being made. The tour I was on was with a large group of families, including a bunch of 8-10 year old kids. It seemed a bit strange to take a bunch of little kids on a whiskey tour. Some of the little girls weren’t amused.

On my way back to Nashville, I stopped at the Loveless Café, a well-known soul food joint just outside the city. The place was filled with people, many in town for the festival. I took mine to go and ate outside, avoiding the hour and a half wait. The food was good but the biscuits and jam (what Loveless is known for) were really good.

When I got back to the hostel, I got ready to go explore downtown. After a 25 minute walk in, I was greeted by crowds of people watching a concert as part of the festival. The people were really into it. Many sported Cowboy hats. Impulses set in - I had to get one.

I went on a mission to find a hat, finally settling on a white, no frills version. I love my new hat. It becomes me.

After that, around 4:00 pm, I decided that a good beer would suit my newfound style. I ducked into a honky tonk called Robert’s. It was recommended by one of the managers at the hostel. And more importantly, there wasn’t a line of 50 people waiting to get in.

Once inside, I quickly made friends with two local gents, Big John and his cousin, Mark, who were in town for the day. They were my type of people - rowdy, beer drinking rednecks. I quickly became known as Yankee, and later on, Yank.

We shot the breeze over a couple rounds of PBR when a woman came up and ordered the Recession Special. This was quite the combination of foods and flavors: a fried bologna sandwich, pickles, Lay’s potato chips, a can of PBR and a moon pie. All for $5.

Of course we had to bust on her about this. Our efforts got us a round of PBR on her and a fourth in our party of scoundrels. She became known as Moon Pie the rest of the night.

We had several more rounds of PBR as Mark and Big John picked at her mostly uneaten meal. It apparently wasn’t that good.

While all this was going on, I felt something cold and wet hit my arm. I looked down and there was a creamy white substance on my arm and my shirt. Big John looked over and said “boy, you done just got shit on by a bird”. Mark found this amusing. I did not. We asked the bartender for a towel to clean up and he said, “so that’s where that went”. Huh? He had apparently had a problem opening some mayonnaise and it splattered everywhere. A round of PBRs followed as an apology.

We decided a change of scenery would be nice so we headed to Tootsie’s, a famous Nashville joint known to host many performers who would go on to be stars. There was a live band playing at the time. They mostly played older country songs so I was lost. But it was good live music.

One I did recognize was The Devil Went Down to Georgia and there was a 20-something girl on the fiddle who was incredible. Ordinarily I’m not a huge fan of that song but hearing it live was special.

We hung out there for quite a while, swimming through bottled PBRs (classy) like a school of fish through water. Conversations were had with a number of the other patrons, including one group from Houston who had their kids with them.

Eventually Moon Pie and I lost track of Big John and Mark so just the two of us hung out. I went to go get food and was supposed to meet up with Moon Pie at some other bar. In my condition, remembering a detail such as the name of the establishment was apparently too big a task. That was the end of Moon Pie.

On my walk home at 10:00, I discussed my lack of intelligence over the phone with Gus, my sister and Seidman. I proposed that my sister, a special ed teacher, should take me in as a student. I have special needs.

While on the phone with Seidman, I discovered I had overshot the hostel. This was no place for a Yankee Cowboy. Obviously I made it home safe.

Tomorrow is more Nashville stuff and hopefully the concert tomorrow night.

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