Howdy Shaded Cowboys and Cowgals,
That portrait of Hank doesn’t hang on the wall of some faux-honky tonk in NY’s irritating Meatpacking District, where Grey Goose-addled Tara Reid look-a-likes bare their bosoms after maxing out their credit cards at Stella McCartney’s boutique around the corner…oh, no no no Shaded Viewers, the spirit of Hank haunts the king of honky tonks at Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge in downtown Nashville. I recently made a trip to the Country music capital for an assignment and to take in the sights and sounds of this historical American city. I didn’t really hear anything as good as Hank Williams’ "Your Cheatin’ Heart" — a record which still sounds avant-garde after fifty-plus years — but there were plenty of other treats in store.
There sure is a lot of junk on the wall at Tootsie’s, an accumulation of honky tonk history, with portraits of just about every country star who’s ever mattered. You may recall the scene in Coal Miner’s Daughter where Sissy Spacek as Loretta Lynn meets up with Patsy Cline, played by Beverly D’Angelo, which was shot at Tootsie’s. You can meet some interesting characters here, like the guy who told me he was good friends with Johnny Cash. He said that in mid-90’s, Cash had advised this man to stay away from drugs, and told this guy that at one point he was so hooked on heroin, he had an intravenous tube hooked up to his leg that ran up under his pants while he performed. Whenever Cash needed another fix there was a pedal on the stage, like a guitar pedal, that he stepped on to administer the dose. I’m not sayin’ I believe this story, I’m just telling you what the man told me. Johnny Cash mania, thanks in part to Walk the Line, is everywhere in Nashville, but I was majorly disappointed that there were no Chairman Mao-style statues of the Man in Black standing sentry on Music Row.
This is the record store where Loretta Lynn performed a Patsy Cline song live on WSM when she first came to Nashville. In the back of the store is a shrine dedicated to this moment, including the Coca-Cola boxes she stood on so fans in the back of the store could see her as she sang. My favorite Ernest Tubb story is how he used to get drunk on his tour bus and fight with members of his band. As the bus traveled en route to the various gigs, he would fire various band mates and throw them off the bus in the middle of the night. A small van would always follow the bus so the ejected pickers (as the musicians are called) could be collected and reunited with a more amicable Tubb at the next gig location. I plan on duplicating Tubb’s antics during my book tour.
The honky tonks and barbeque pits of Lower Broadway. Due to the one hour time difference between Tennessee and New York, I was terribly jet-lagged, so I apologize for any photos that are out of focus.
I dubbed this girl the "hillbilly Edie Sedgewick". I caught her band, Silk and Saddle, at one of my favorite honky tonks on Lower Broadway, Layla’s Bluegrass Hillbilly and Country Inn.
I loved Edie’s bandmate, she reminded me of a model who had been abducted from a lingerie shoot by radical hillbilly musicians. She’s like the Tania of underground country music. "I have chosen to stay and play."
The famous boots at Robert’s Western World, another Lower Broadway honky tonk.
Here is my hotel, the Nashville Hilton, located on the banks of the Cumberland River. I had two rooms and a path to the outhouse. There was running water as long as I was willing to run and git it!
Just kidding. This is really where I stayed, the Wyndham Union Station Hotel, located in a former train station built in 1900. The lobby features a dramatic vaulted ceiling made of stained glass.
This is historic Printer’s Alley, a tiny street where notable such as W.C. Fields used to come and party. On my second night in Nashville, a friend who works in the music biz took me out for a wild night of drinking, honky tonking and gay clubbing. Yes Virginia, they do have gay bars in Tennessee. And they’re no different than the ones you’d find in Chicago, Shanghai or on Mars. We sure did drink us up a storm that night, but instead of Brokeback rotgut whiskey, it was more in the neighborhood of several rounds of mango mojitos, followed with a chaser of 5 or 7 dozen Jack Daniel’s and Coke.
The red photo is from Bourbon Street Blues on Printer’s Alley and the blue one is from, I think, a gay bar called the Chute, but it was all a blur at that point. I seem to remember dancing to a hi-NRG mash-up that combined "I Feel Love" by Donna Summer with "Folsom Prison Blues" by Mr. Cash. Someone handed me a tambourine and a fiddle on the dancefloor. Only in Nashville, kids, only in Nashville.
Just in case any honky tonkin’ despots get any ideas about where to hide their WMD, the good ole boys of Nashville are two steps ahead of ’em.
No, I didn’t hop into Doctor Who’s Tardis for a jaunt to Greece…this replica of the Parthenon is located in Nashville’s Centennial Park. Fans of Robert Altman’s Nashville (a film that is still not readily embraced by some denizens of Music City) will recall that this is where Barbara Jean, played by Ronee Blakely, was assassinated while she sang at a political rally. Talk about leaving them wanting more.
There’s even a replica of Athena inside, based on historical texts and the "artist’s imagination." She certainly doesn’t look like she’d be welcome at the Grand Ole Opry.
The controversial (and tacky) Musica sculpture, erected by the "Athens" crowd, at the foot of Music Row. A lot of country music people don’t like this statue (it doesn’t get rave reviews from me, either)….I mean, naked pagans frolicking in the buckle of the Bible Belt!? It just ain’t right.
The Country Music Hall of Fame contains sacred relics such as turn-of-the century fiddles from the Appalachians and Dolly Parton’s wigs.
The Mother Church of Country Music, the Ryman Auditorium. I can’t tell you how excited I was to attend a performance of the Grand Ole Opry at this historic venue. Of course, I had fantasized about it so much, I was bound to be slightly disappointed. Visions of a recherche Hee Haw fantasia had danced in my head for months: legions of rhinestone-suit clad troubadors, holographic images of Hank and Cash projected on the stage, Karen Black in a red tulle ballgown, Dolly singing "Jolene", Loretta singing "Your Squaw is on the Warpath", Webb Pierce driving across the stage in his Nudie-designed Cadillac replete with steer horns, guns and a silver-dollar covered saddle, a seance with Minnie Pearl…..of course I got none of that. However, Porter Wagoner was on the bill and I was excited about that. He was a no-show.
As a consolation, I got Bill Anderson, who is an Orpy legend. In his Manuel jacket and white chiffon scarf, Bill was one of the best dressed performers on the bill. He’s also a funny man. "I told my wife the other day – ‘We’ve had some good years…unfortunately they were the tires on our car."
These wonderfully talented old-timers had me clappin’ my hands and stompin’ my feet. None of that modern hard rock-country crap for me.
Eye candy at the Opry! This strapping, corn-fed young man, who made sweet love to his harmonica, is a member of the buzz-heavy, Grammy-nominated Crabb Family. And they’re a Christian gospel band! Whoever said it wasn’t God who made honky tonk angels obviously didn’t know this fella was headin’ for the Opry. I was so entranced by his harmonica playing, that I tried to sneak backstage after the show. When I got turned away, I clubbed one of the ushers who was dressed like Minnie Pearl, stashed her in a broom closet and put on her outfit. "Hoooowdee! I’m jes so PROUD to be here!" I exclaimed backstage, trying to blend in. I was swiftly given the bum’s rush in bluegrass melody.
The Ryman’s church pews emptied out quickly after the show….and somehow I made it out of there alive still in my Minnie get-up…..
Thank you for reading about my Nashville adventure. For a virtual honky tonk visit, I recommend the streaming music on The Cowboy Cultural Society.
Love, Glenn Belverio
