What follows is a fairly comprehensive - perhaps too comprehensive - reading on my trip to Nashville, TN. The primary crux of the trip was to perform at the infamous "Bluebird Cafe", and subsequently, 5 days worth of gigs and life on the road... I apologize in advance if any of this sounds pompous or overstated - this dissertation is off-the -cuff, first and only draft - in my attempt to tell it like it was - I at least hope it'll make you smile or laugh a bit...

And so it was, that on a cold wintery New Year's Day, my baby and I packed our bags and headed off to Music City, Nashville, Tennessee, by way of Greensboro, Alabama.... oops, make that North Carolina -- I promise that's the last time I'll make that mistake. .... having booked a show at the infamous Bluebird Cafe nine months ago ... there must be some significance to that gestation period. I should begin by saying that upon booking the show at the Bluebird, we rushed out and rented the movie called "That Thing Called Love", which is the story about a couple of starry-eyed songwriters who headed off, much the same as we, to perform at the aforementioned venue in the hopes of being "discovered" by the powers that rule country music. Needless to say, the movie sucks, but was nonetheless fun to watch, being pertinent to our impending experience.

Here's what happened:

Day One. We pulled into town, in frantic search of the Music City Motor Lodge - where else to stay ???, and found it to be one hell of a dive - to meager for even our low standards, and so we headed off down the road headed for the more middle-classy acceptable accommodations of a Super 8, when mine eyes were accosted by the all-too recognizable road-lyrics "Cheap Rates - Stay Where The Stars Stay". How can I resist, I thought, and quickly maneuvered a life-threatening right hand, cross traffic pirouette into the parking lot of the Drake Motel. Stumbling onto the office, requesting rates, still oblivious to the significance of our fateful detour, I perused the walls as Judith flashed her charge and demanded to see a room, only to discover that "this" was the very motel at which they filmed many of the scenes in the awful movie we had subjected ourselves to as an act of inspiration so many months ago. How could we resist? 27 bucks a night! We took it, moved in and quickly trekked off to find the Bluebird.
The Bluebird is quite a place, if you've never been. They get a full house of mostly tourists and traveling musicians, along with a few curious locals, all of whom are made to feel at home by your cordially pleasant host, Jeff Pearson, a dry wit to say the least. Having been placed last on a long list, being the new kid in town, we waited, listened and clapped to a slew of aspiring songwriters such as myself, all of respectable abilities, and at long last, climbed up onto my chair to perform the three songs I had traveled 1200 miles to play. It really was a blast, and I had a fine set, well received by the sturdy bunch that had lasted until the wee hours, and was greeted with a smile and the comment "Thanks for the music" by the infamous AMY, Bluebird matriarch. After a few well-wishes from Mr. Jeff, thus endeth our first day.

Day Two. Off in search of Wolfy's, the site of this evening's performance, we found ourselves on Music Row - the part of Nashville where, per-capita, there are the most music venues than any other neighborhood. We wandered into a bar called Legends, asking directions, and were greeted with a taste of down-home southern hospitality by none other than Jimmy Snyder - whom we had never heard of - who, after providing us with our much-needed info, told us that he and his band were performing next door at Tootsie's at 2pm - live music at 2pm on a Monday afternoon?? Unheard of, I thought, but true just the same. Come to find out that Wolfy's was just across the street, we went over for a looksee... and as we were leaving, who should I run into,but my friend Wendy from Portsmouth, NH. Now, I'm sure none of you know who Wendy is, but imagine my surprise running into a friend from home on the streets of Nashville? Judith stood incredulously by as we exchanged hugs like two lost should clinging to common ground, making big plans for the week to come. Karma being good at this point, away we went to watch our new friend Jimmy Snyder perform at 2pm on a Monday afternoon at Tootsie's

Now, Tootsie's, as it turns out, is a pretty famous place, playing host to the discovery of the likes of Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, George Jones...and boasting past and present appearance by any and/or all the country greats at one time or another... and Jimmy Snyder new them all.. and the songs as well. Just as an aside, one of the cool things I learned about Tootsie is that "Tootsie" (yep she was real, may she rest in peace) kept a box behind the bar that was full of IOUs of starving artists that had frequented the joint but could not pay their bill, and at the end of each year, some of the more affluent performers that played there would all chip in to pay off the bill!! -- now that's community! Anyway, chugging beers and listening to the music, I felt myself being converted - I thought "this town's getting under my skin" and I began to recognize the infectious quality of Nashville that had attracted so many from so far. Suddenly, I was snapped out of my religious stupor by the one and only Jimmy Snyder, King of Country Music, asking "me" on stage to play a few "numbers" as they're apparently known in the south.

So, up I went to perform a few - admittedly not knowing many country songs, I asked the band if they knew "Ol'55" by Tom Waits. "George Strait?", they asked, and I just laughed and launched into it, hoping they could follow along, which they did with the utmost aplomb. Afterwards, I hacked out a"You Win Again" a Hank Williams tune I remember my folks singing around the house from the age of 5. It was a blast, and sounded great - now here's something I just have to say: In Nashville, near as I could tell, everywhere you go the clubs all have great sounding PAs. Why can't they do that in Boston?? - I'm not talking about thousands of dollars worth of equipment here - just nice simple systems with good clean sound... go figure... Afterward, Jimmy treated us to a great story about hanging out in a limo with Elvis back in '60, and we were newly inducted disciples... and with complimentary words and slaps on the back, we were out on the streets of Nashville again.

Later that night, on our way to Wolfy's, I couldn't help noting that beyond virtually every open door we could see, and there were alot of open doors, was a guy sitting on stage strumming a guitar and singing - "like slots in Vegas", I said, and was quickly beginning to feel like on of the fold. The Invitational Songwriter's Showcase at Wolfy's was hosted by one Mark Aaron James - great name, eh? - an incredibly friendly guy who treated me like a king because I had traveled the farthest of anyone scheduled to perform that evening. The first time I had ever encountered the "in-the-round" concept of artist presentation as at Passim - three on a stage, each taking turns, and I thought that was a little daunting -here at Wolfy's they line up no less than five performer abreast across the front of the stage - it felt like the dating game sitting up there waiting your turn to play - and they had a back-up group perched and ready to play along whether or not you asked - there guys were GOOD and managed to find their way into any and all songs - including mine - a little disconcerting being that I have all but disassociated myself completely from the concept of having a band - but I appreciated the sentiment and admired the gusto with which they endeavored to follow any of the more obtuse changes I threw at them my personal high points of this evening were the tunes of my new friend and colleague Rob Wolf - who writes truly great songs, one of which I intend to cover, and Mark Aaron James' version of Ellis Paul's "Autobiography Of A Pistol"- a taste of home ... - and about 2/3 the way through the last group of five, Wolfy's was descended upon by a host of UTenn students -- suddenly I felt like I was at T's Pub on Comm Ave down by BU... yikes - drunken baseball capped guys being chased around by skinny blonde girlies, all swish-swashing their beers and yelling "Free Bird" - such originality - and being the gracious host, repeatedly assuring me that Wolfy's normally had a much more "Attentive Audience", Mark Aaron James climbed up on stage to perform a few covers to quell the maddening crowd, and asked me to join him - so I did. We ripped off a couple of Steve Miller tunes, and the obligatory "Sweet Home Alabama" - southern national anthem as such, and finally pulled the plug when a couple of break-dancing co-eds knocked over the PA speaker resulting in a blast of gawd-awful distortion which spelled "equipment damage". We packed up and left to the shrill tune of two guys cock-fighting over a cab... thus endeth day two - seems like a week already...

Day Three: Spent the day in bed - yep, you heard right - we ventured out into the evening air and found our way to the open mic at the Douglas Corner Cafe. An interesting system they have there - you call a phone number between certain hours of the day and leave your "name and ONLY your name" - per instructions - and then show up. Needless to say, although speaking slowly and in ungarbled English, I showed up to find my name listed as "Joe Page" - must be the blue-blood accent of mine - and was slated to go on just about dead-last. I don't mean to be boorish or pigheaded, but I've never suffered through more three chord songs in my life - my mind was reeling with remarks envisioned in the voice of Frasier Crane... not to say that they all may or mayn't viewed me in similar light but for the fact that when I played there were not more than five people present - I owe one to Judith for sticking it out with me. The Douglas was the darkest hole we had seen so far, but many folks whom I respected spoke quite highly of the place, so I'm bound to give it another try. I'm told that they have what is called the "Lamplight Songwriter's Night" where the entire stage is lit with candles -- this sounds interesting... alas, back to the Drake...

Day Four: This is the day we were scheduled to "headline" The Sutler - a place which had been described to me as a "weird" or "strange little joint".. so we scouted it out early in the day only to find the most charming music venue I have yet to encounter - beautiful stage with black curtain backdrop, nice PA, and an owner with an affection for late nineteenth century pornography - naked women on the menus - this was the place for me! And to ice the cake, here I am, 1200 miles from home, stranger in a strange land, and I get a phone call! ...Ya gotta love that. Turned out to be some nice folks from just outside of Nashville that I met at one of my recent shows at Club Passim. That evening, the show was graced by many positive nuances - the fellow who "opened" for me - John Reynolds - was tremendous - the snarling stage presence of Angus of AC/DC, dark raspy voiced, angry songs ala early Springsteen, and a and a wit to exacerbate the soft spot of any steely pride ... you can quote me! Along with the local denizen populating the Sutler on this night, I also had the honor to perform for my new good friend and prolific songwriter, the aforementioned Rob Wolf, and the publisher of "Blink" - the local Nashville music journal, as well as my friends, Wendy, Heather, and the Hendricksons, who brought their lovely daughter Cheslea (this is spelled correctly), and another great new friend, Rod Picot, who I was to perform for on Thursday. Thanks to all youse guys! And to top it all off, two good old boys wandered in during my closing number, liked what they heard and asked if I could be available to play on their recording the next day. Big plans made, early phone calls, messages left and life's reliable spontaneity led to us never hooking up, but it was a thrill just to be asked... It was a great night!

Day Five: Rod Picot's Fireside Whiskey Hour at Guido's Pizzeria. Yep, they play in pizza parlor's in Nashville. I would not have been surprised to see a strummer at the local McDonald's... slots in Vegas... Nevertheless, we chose this day to dose ourselves with a taste of humanity by going to see Titanic... a topic for later discussion... after which we headed over to see Rod at Guido's - and you know, it was just about the most charming of all the places I've seen. This place has the most "darling" little room for performing, room for about 50 people if it were jammin - really jammin - and a great stage, perfect PA... Rod is just about the most laid back person I've yet to meet - I think he hails from Maine - at least that's where I met him- tailor made for Nashville. He made me feel the most welcome of anywhere I played this week - promoting me as the evenings special guest although there were plenty of other performers that night who could have easily warranted such distinction. Rod was kind enough to join me on a song by a mutual friend of our, and then he took us over to a place called The Station - another gorgeous venue - BTW, any one one these places would be the showpiece of local venues here in Boston, yet in Nashville there are hundreds of them - where we saw a bluegrass band perform, apparently hailing some of Nashville's aristocracy, although I knew none of them... shows you what I know ... and introduced me to a guy who who used to know my big brother in Rhode Island who now works with the management company that handles Alison Krauss - this is the way things are done down there -you never know who you might meet, or where it will get you - nowhere, somewhere... opportunities are endless...The cool thing was being in this club that in Boston would likely only play host to alternative or cutting edge music, likely to be populated by much the same folk, yet they were cheering and hollering for the sounds of bluegrass - hanging on every 32nd note mandolin lick or dobro slide... singing along with the three-part harmony - same people, different tune, very enlightening!

...and alas, thus endeth Day Five and my trip to Nashville... sorry if I got a bit verbose here - I just got on a roll and was afraid to stop lest I lose the flow of things. Thanks for caring!