I’m lost and I wish I were found, in the arms of My Darlin’ Hometown…

Alan LeQuire’s bronze and limestone sculpture presides over the Music Row Roundabout in my hometown of Nashville, intended to convey “the importance of music to Nashville”.  If you know much about my beloved South, you will understand that those easily offended (they’re naked!) called for its removal at its installation in 2003.  We all calmed down eventually, or at least got tired of shouting about it, and these days it is a mostly beloved iconic figure representing music in all its forms (we have a wonderful symphony too).  I love music, and many of my posts feature lines from songs I particularly enjoy and/or find relevant.  A case in point would be My Darlin’ Hometown, a song by the great John Prine that speaks to those of us who live far away from home.  My hope is that anyone interested might dig a little deeper, check out the music in question, or even better buy a song or a CD and give it a listen…you waste more money than that driving driving around every day, and music is much more fun!  (30 March, 2010  Nashville, TN)

Well let me just quote the late-great Colonel Sanders, who said…”I’m too drunk to taste this chicken.”

Talladega Nights probably won’t go down in history as a cultural high-water mark, but it had its moments.  And though I grew up in the South, I have to admit to thinking NASCAR was peopled with arcadian underachievers when the truth was quite different.  I didn’t come to comprehend my own ignorance until fate offered me a chance to work on the periphery of some of the races, and I saw firsthand the level of technological sophistication, dedication, and desire that goes into the sport.  I later got to climb into one of those racecars and slide around the track at a fraction of the speed of the boys on raceday, whereupon my heart traveled north of its usual location and I gained a new appreciation for the nerves it must take to do that every week in heavy traffic when you and everyone else is operating at all times on the ragged edge of control.  In the photo below, my friend Jughead gets stuffed in for his date with destiny.  If you ain’t first, you’re last…indeed.  (13 April, 2007  Lebanon, Tennessee)