The (wo)Man In Black

Okay, this is the last post from my Nashville adventure. I know. I know. It's about time! Let's begin.

Downtown Nashville is home to the infamous bar "Tootsies". Legend says that Johnny Cash, before he made it big, would come here for a beer each year ~ hey, that rhymes. Someone should make that into a country song. Something like... "There's a tear in my beer cause I'm crying for you, dear..." It's already been done? Oh, never mind then. Anyway, like I was saying, legend continues that each year on his birthday, Johnny Cash would wander over to Tootsies and get a beer. I have yet to verify this and all calls made to Mr. Cash have not been returned. What?! He died? Hmm...no wonder he never answered. Okay, quit interrupting and let me finish. Anyway, I wanted my picture taken outside the bar just to prove I'd walked the block Johnny Cash had. Since I was walking straight, I "walked the line". Get it? Ahhhahaha.

Again I digress.

I found a nice lady to take my picture.

* Click

"Do you want another one just in case?"

Yes, please.

I must have heard wrong.

Apparently she said, "Do you want another three just in case?"

Thanks Ma'am.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you very much.

I Beg to Differ

Mama Mia and P2 ~ you tried. You taught me to be safe, look both ways, never talk to strangers, and to call home if I ever needed to. A few times, my date with a Ted Bundy for instance, have indicated I need to listen to you more. In addition, seeing how my name rhymes with a particular biblical term meaning hoochie mama, you’d think I know the disadvantages associated with standing alone on a street corner in a city in which I’m a visitor. Incidentally, that is precisely where this story occurred.

After spending the majority of my first afternoon in Nashville shopping, I backtracked to a few photo spots. I was waiting at a corner for the light to change when a bum approached me and asked how I was. Wanting to be polite, I responded I was well and asked, what turned out to be, a twenty minute question.

“How are you doing?”
I’m sure am hungry.
Don’t take the bait. “I know! I haven’t eaten for hours and until I meet my sister later, I’m just going to have to deal with my stomach growling.”
I am thirsty too.
Don’t fall for this. “Me too! I’ve run out of water and can’t find a drinking fountain anywhere! It’s just so hot out.”
Um, I know. And when it’s hot, people get mean. I just got cussed out by some guy right in front of his young daughter.
He isn’t asking for money…this is different. “Sorry to hear that.”
Yea, all I did was ask for something to eat and he started yelling at me, like I’m a bum or something. When I ask people for money it’s because I’m hungry and I want some soup. I don’t do drugs anymore and drinking only makes you want more alcohol…
Hmm…you are wearing a hat indicating the time is 4:20. Back to the 'I don't do drugs'…what were you saying?
…I don’t even live here. I’m from Oregon.
Oregon?! “What brings you across the country? You a musician?”
No. I’m just a fool in love. I followed a woman out here and she broke my heart. Now I’m trying to get back home.
He actually sounds credible. Love makes people do stupid things. So I’m told anyway. “Home to Oregon?”
Uh huh. Except I’m stuck here. I got on the bus the other day but couldn’t afford a ticket. I got kicked off and thrown in jail. Then when I got released, I was told to quit begging for money. But I’ve got no money to get home so I’m stuck here.
We have walked two blocks now. Can I blog this without a picture? No one will believe this. I need his picture. Make up something. Think! “Sounds like a catch 22.”
I know! And then all I want is a meal and some water and I get cussed out. It’s just because I’ve got this backpack on and haven’t been able to shower every day.
Hence me not standing too close. “Sir, I have a favor to ask you. I’ve been inspired by your story and want a way to remember you. Would you mind taking a picture with me?”
Uh…sure.
Alright! I’m getting a picture! “Have you ever had someone want to take their picture with you?”
No. You are definitely a first.
“Well thank you for being willing. …now if we can just find someone... ‘Ma’am? Will you please take our picture?’”

*Click

Yes! Proof for the blog! “Thanks sir.”
You’re welcome. What’s your name?
“Charlotte.” …and here’s my blog address. “What’s your name?”
Charlie Brown.
*Smile
What? You don’t believe me?
No. “I’m just smiling because that’s a nickname I went by when I was little. See how much we have in common. Both hungry, thirsty, and similar names.”
Un huh. You sure you don’t have a couple bucks?
Nope. “Here, you can have the rest of my water though.” …well, now I have to find some more water!
God Bless.
"Same to you."

Are You From Tennessee...

...because you're the only Ten I see!

Julia-Gulia and I visited Nashville during the three day Labor Day weekend. Her intent was to visit a friend from college while mine was to tour the city and hopefully spot Elvis. I managed to do both.

Saturday, after lunch and some shopping, I decided to meander around downtown. It goes without saying but I'll say it anyway: Nashville is a fun place! This is me talking - the girl that hated country music so much while growing up that even listening seemed to cause cancer of the ear. But since I wanted a weekend away and my sister was already going, I thought I'd take a chance on the city.

Nashville is a place with something for everyone. Say you aren't really interested in cowboy hats or guitars - teen movies with predictable plot lines, lame acting, and big celebrity names are more your style. May I suggest you venture downstairs to this venue.

Or, if you are like me and no one knows about your mad break-dancing skillz, don't worry about dragging out the cardboard mat. These guys bring their own. Too bad I was wearing a cute little skirt or I would have shown this guy how to improve his flip stand. ...that's, um, the technical term for that move.

Of course, there also was this red-headed boy walking around downtown promoting Wendy's Burgers. I don't know if he's your thing but it is an option. He was very pleasant to talk to at least.

And The King - you will see the king. I thought he was only in Vegas. Actually I thought he was dead but no, he's in Nashville. In fact, I not only had him read my fortune but I shared a delicious ice cream shake with him.

AHHH! There's two of him...oh wait, that's just Julia-Gulia and her sidekick.

...to be continued...

The Pops that Rocks

Yesterday marked another birthday for my pops. Happy Birthday P2!

Although he's known life without me, I've never known life without him and for this, I'm grateful. He is the type of man that teaches by example and when necessary, uses words.

A fond memory I have is watching Star Trek with him. I know, I know, we were dorks. What makes me even sillier is that anytime my dad called from work and I happened to answer, I would give the phone to Mama Mia and say, "It's Captain Picard - for you." Oh yes, I am that dork.

Growing up, people would tell me I looked like P2.

Really???

...I did have similar eyebrows before I discovered tweezers. Is that what they were referring to?
Hmm...maybe we are related. P2! Are those your fingers making bunny ears? Seriously, some people! I would never do that. *ahem.

P2, the past 28 years of my life have been great with you as my dad. Here's to at least 28 more birthdays to come! Love ya!

I'm Just Too Dirty

I've documented before that I live at home with my parents, 2 sisters, and Little Boy Blue. I don't mind since the monthly rent is affordable at the steep rate of free, a good old fashioned meal is easy to come by, and for the fact that I actually enjoy being with my family. Living at home also brings something else:

Chores.

For the most part, this hasn't been a huge issue. I take care of my room and the bathroom, I do my own laundry, and I try to clean up after I use the kitchen. I use the rinse-and-let-the-dishwasher-take-care-of-the-rest approach. If I make a sandwich, there will be a knife with a little peanut butter residue and a plate with a few crumbs in the dishwasher. At the end of the day, the dishwasher is turned on and I unload it in the morning. It's pretty routine. I've been doing it since I moved home.

Mama Mia has differing views. Not only was my childhood filled with phrases such as, "Shut the fridge, you are letting all the cold out!"and "I trust you...it's your friends that bother me," but she always ended the evening meal by saying, "Okay [fill in the blank with one of us lucky children], it's your turn for dishes. Remember, "hot, soapy water." In fact, much like a seashell, when I put a cocoa mug up to my ear, I can hear faint instructions on how to properly wash dinnerware. Each night we would fill the sink up with - you guessed it - "hot, soapy water" to thoroughly clean the dishes in addition to running them through the dishwasher.

That's washing dishes twice!

So this weekend I was gone. I didn't unload the clean dishes or load any semi-rinsed utensils. Tuesday morning I opened the dishwasher. It was full but the sure tell sign of cleanliness indicated by little water puddles on the tops of glasses was missing. I pulled a sample of 10 different knives, forks, and spoons. All looked clean. I ran my finger across a plate. No dried food there either. I looked at the glasses. While they seemed clean, I was confused by the lack of puddles. Not wanting to fall short of my duty, I unloaded. At about 4:45, Mama Mia called me at the office.

Did you unload?
Yeah, why? They were clean weren't they?
No. I didn't run the dishwasher because there was room for breakfast bowls. (the ever practical Mama I love.)
But they all looked clean.
That's because I washed the dishes.
Mom...this is why it's a good thing I don't completely clean the dishes. It's an indication for me if I need to unload or not.
No. I don't like it when you do the dishes. You leave too much food and our dishwasher isn't that powerful.
So you are saying I shouldn't do dishes anymore. Okay. If that's how you feel...

Now I just have to figure out if there is something I can do when I clean the bathroom that bugs her...