IMPORTANT NEW NOTES FROM JUSTIN:
US Tour Day 171: Enjoying Nashville
I felt brutalized when I got out of bed. My body was trying to tell me that eleven hours of sleep was either way too much or way too little. I couldn't tell which.
Tonya drove us to the barrio where I would get some comfort food. Mexican food has become my real comfort food these days. I ate a truckload of chips and salsa, three chicken soft tacos, flan, half of Tonya's sopapillas, and almost a whole pitcher of margaritas. Mission: accomplished.
Tonya lives in the heart of Nashville's Music Row. Her house is situated behind the BMI and Sony buildings and only a short walk to the ASCAP building. So much music everywhere! It made Los Angeles seem so unmusical by comparison.
After eating I felt a little bit more like myself. I wanted to soak in some energy of other people, so I asked if we could walk over to the strip and sit in a bar and look at some people.
She asked whether I'd rather visit the Irish pub or the country bar with live music, and I gave her a look that let her know that I would never dream of choosing an Irish pub over a country music bar in Music Row in Nashville fucking Tennessee. And it turned out I made the right choice.
We walked in to the Tin Roof—a long, thin bar packed full of beautiful Americans. I always wondered where all the good–looking Americans were. You know, the girls with blonde hair and blue eyes or the guys with perfect jaw–lines and chiseled mouths—the kind you see in movies and advertisements. I found them: It turns out they were all visiting the Tin Roof in Nasvhille, Tennesee! The women were hot like griddles and the men were way too sexy. I toggled between WOW and I don't need this kind of competition.
Facing an ocean of precious squeezables of both sexes, three young, only slightly better looking than average men sat onstage with acoustic guitars.
Their harmonies were so sweet, I wanted to drink them in. The twisty ways their country voices mingled blessed my ears like the lips of a Southern Jesus. It was like I fell into a talent pit and couldn't get out. These guys could sing and play in ways my brain couldn't comprehend.
A few songs into the set the lead singer invited someone from the audience to come up and join them on stage. It wasn't just anyone, though. It was the piano player from the Rascal Flats! He pounded out some heartfelt tunes on the electric piano and sang his heart out and mine, too, for that matter. His talent and timbre were huge, yet he apologized to the audience for his voice, "I'm not the lead singer for Rascal Flats." Thank god for that. Any more musical prowess up there would given me a seizure.
It was time for a seizure, then, because famous country singer named James Otto came up and joined them on stage for a few numbers. Music, music, everywhere—all too much. I could look out the window to the BMI building, look to my right at the big neon sign that said recording studio. There was songwriting and beautiful country melodies pouring out like waterfalls all around me.
I laughed with joy, peals of happiness from my upturned mouth at the perfection of it all. It was like going to visit the White House and having the president meet you at the door and give you a drink and a thousand bucks. And his daughter.
Talent hangs in the air here. Some call it humidity but I know better. They've managed to cram powerful talent seeds into the molecules of water suspended in the air here. It has to be the case. This is the only explanation I can think of for such rampant harmony.
I remembered that my friend and entertainment lawyer David Cutler used to live in Nashville, so I ran outside to call him in between two songs. I figured I'd try to convince him to fly out to hang out with me there and have some adventures or something. It was a long shot, but I thought I'd try. I didn't even really expect him to answer, but he did.
He told me he couldn't come to meet me in Nashville because he was flying to Miami the next morning! I had a lot of fun with Jennifer the last time I was in Miami, and I'd been hoping to see her again. In the recent weeks I'd sternly told myself that chasing a girl was not a sufficient excuse for me to go back to Florida. But, I really I wanted to go back. But, now that I had the chance to see David Cutler AND Jen—WOW! EXCITED!
It's stupidly late and time to sleep.
PREVIOUS ENTRY - NEXT ENTRY