In March 2022, Laurie and I embarked on a pilgrimage of sorts to learn more about the roots of American music. Our destinations included Nashville, Memphis, Muscle Shoals, Asheville and Bristol. This was a long-imagined trip for me and I was delighted that Laurie agreed to join me. Barb was happier that I went with someone rather than go alone — she was never a candidate for this journey — though I’m sure she would have preferred (on many levels) I didn’t go at all.
Here is my account of the trip in gory detail, in three parts: Nashville, Memphis, and Asheville/Bristol. I’ve also done companion posts, including my Memphis Music Education, National Museum of African American Music Playlists. I’ve posted a condensed summary of the trip (with no photos) for public viewing, along with public versions of my Memphis Music Education, National Museum of African American Music Playlists on Billzdaze.com.
- Pre-Trip Plans and Thoughts
- Saturday, March 12 – To Nashville – Musicians Hall of Fame
- Sunday, March 13 – Nashville – National Museum of African-American Music
- Monday, March 14 – Nashville – Country Music Hall of Fame, City Tour, Studio B, Wildhorse Saloon
- Tuesday, March 15 – Nashville – Ryman Auditorium, Grand Ole Opry
- Wednesday, March 16 – Nashville to Memphis – Belle Meade
Pre-Trip Plans and Thoughts
This trip gestated in my mind and heart for a number of years. I wanted to visit some of the origin points for American music and get to know more of the history and connections that weave so many genres together: Country, Bluegrass, Blues, Rock and Roll, Soul, Rhythm & Blues, Pop, Americana, Appalachian, Mountain, Old Time — so many labels and so much overlap. I also wanted to see for myself some sections of the country I had never been or only touched briefly, chiefly Tennessee but also the Mississippi Delta region, northern Alabama, the Carolina mountains and the Bristol, Tennessee/Virginia corner promoted as the Crooked Road.
Ken Burns’ 2019 Country Music documentary series cemented my desire to make this journey. Reading Tony Horowitz’ Spying on the South in late 2020 also piqued my curiosity for traveling in the region. The only questions were when, how and with whom. Covid-19 put a two-year dent in all travel but also gave me time to daydream and research. I was surprised at the number of sites and museums I wanted to visit in Nashville and Memphis. I researched a variety of organized tours and itineraries online, and thought hard about doing the trip on my own or through a tour. Eventually I came upon the Road Scholar Nashville-Memphis tour that seemed to include many of the highlights I wanted to visit. I considered adding New Orleans to the itinerary but opted instead for a loop that built off the Road Scholar week-long tour through Nashville and Memphis, then added my own road trip to include the Mississippi Delta, Muscle Shoals, Asheville (to see Susanna and family) and Bristol in a manageable two-week journey. I might have wanted to take longer but two weeks was about all Barb would put up with and it seemed long enough as it was. If I found something especially wonderful or worth revisiting, I could maybe come back some other time.
The Road Scholar timing meant going in March-May or September-October — the question was which year. When Covid made it clear I couldn’t do it in the fall of 2021, I began pointing to the spring of 2022. In October 2021, Laurie agreed (to my surprise and delight) that she’d be interested, and Barb was happier with the idea that I would have a companion, with everything contingent on the status of the virus as we got closer. I went ahead and booked the tour, started a detailed planning document and started what became a lengthy project of putting together two playlists of Memphis-related music.
The astonishing rise of the Omicron variant of the virus in December 2021 -January 2022 made it seem like we might have to postpone the trip to the fall or later, but fortunately the virus subsided quickly enough that we were able to decide in mid-February to go ahead. Laurie bought her airline tickets and I locked in the rest.
With Laurie actually in the air on her way from Spain to Baltimore on March 3, I finally felt comfortable enough to make this list of things I was excited and/or worried about in advance of the trip:
- It will be great to simply get out and into the world in the wake of Covid. Other than our trips to Massachusetts to see Allie – which have been terrific – this is my first real vacation travel in two years. I’m eager to get out and about.
- I think Covid is in well-enough control that it won’t be a big concern, though I expect we’ll still wear masks a fair amount of the time while in crowds or indoors at concerts and museums. Maybe in the bus and transit as well. That won’t be great but at this point it’s not so bad. We have plenty of KN-95 masks and they’re reasonably comfortable. We also have a couple of spare rapid tests we can bring along. The masks may help us stay healthy from other airborne bugs and allergies as well, I hope.
- I’m worried about Nashville, that it will be too gross, too “country,” too Republican, too touristy and too much of a drunken bachelorette party scene for us. I’m afraid it may get us off on the wrong foot. I think the trick is to survive Saturday day and night, have a decent time at the Musician’s Hall of Fame (which looks to be very good), find some decent food for lunch and dinner and not push things too much on Saturday. Sunday’s focus will be a decent brunch, then the National Museum of African American Music which should also be good, and then meet up with the tour around 4pm or so. After that, we can blame anything on the tour.
- I’m dismayed that we will be leaving Nashville just hours before a special Little Feat show at the Ryman featuring guests like Rosanne Cash, Billy Strings, Tommy Emmanuel and Amy Helm. The band will perform “Waiting for Columbus,” their 1978 concert album that is one of my all-time favorites. There are even tickets still available, according to Facebook. The shows that night and the next will be filmed for PBS (fundraiser alert!) so at least I’ll get to see them someday.
- While we’re in Memphis, Lyle Lovett will be performing but the show was already sold out by the time I found it. Tickets on StubHub were going for more than $200 so I don’t think that’s in our league. Elizabeth Cook will also be in Memphis while we’re there and that may be doable, but I’m not sure Laurie will be a fan…and I’m not sure I really want to see her either.
- I haven’t found any other must-see concerts along our route, but that’s OK. We’re very lucky to catch Allison Russell at Wolf Trap on March 6. That should be more than enough of a concert highlight for the trip.
- I’m having a hard time explaining to others in a casual manner why I’m interested in this trip. I’m not really a fan of country music per se, and in fact I find mainstream country music and culture repellent. The corner I’m interested in is sometimes described as Americana or maybe Outlaw Country, per the Sirius/XM channel, but that’s not very accurate even for the folks that might know those references. Even with Outlaw Country there’s a bunch that I can’t stand – too Outlaw or rowdy for my tastes. I have to resort to listing a group of artists by name, including the likes of John Prine, Emmylou Harris, Buddy Miller, Steve Earle, Lyle Lovett, Ry Cooder, Rhiannon Giddens, and Allison Russell. It’s singer-songwriters, consummate musicians and seemingly all-around good people that appeal to me. But then my interests extend into American roots music, blues, soul, bluegrass, jazz and old time music, too. There’s not a good label for all that.
- I’m looking forward to learning more about some of the ineffable connective tissue that makes music magic. What makes one song or performer connect with me (or anyone) when so many others don’t? It’s some combination of lyrics, stories, musicianship, rhythm, melody, harmony, performer…all of it has to come together in the right alchemy to make a memorable connection. When it does, it can shoot straight to my heart, raise goosebumps and make me weep. What is that?
- I’m looking forward to learning more about the under-attributed contribution of black performers to all sorts of American music. I already have no doubt that many/most have been screwed out of the revenue and recognition they deserve. I don’t really know what I expect to find or what in particular I can do about it at this point, but I’m interested to explore that angle, especially at the National Museum of African American Music and multiple stops in Memphis and the Delta Blues trail.
- In general, I’m eager to get a feel for Memphis and the Mississippi Delta region just a bit. It’s all new to me, a scene of great suffering but also a legacy of survival and joy. I’m eager to soak in the air and the history for a few days and see if I want to come back for more.
Saturday, March 12 – To Nashville
The weather threw us a curveball, going from a warm, pleasant Friday in Maryland to a frigid, snowy sleety mess on Saturday morning. I drove us to Dulles, losing time and using more gas than I thought as we crawled around the Beltway and out the Dulles Access Road. By the time we arrived it was only 1 hour 10 minutes before our flight and there wasn’t enough gas for Barb to get back home so she needed to stop and fill it along the way in the snowy, sleety mess. I felt very bad for putting her through that.
Laurie and I made it through security even though both of us were confused about what we had to take out of our suitcases or off of our bodies, annoying both the TSA agents and the people behind us. We made it to the gate with about 10 minutes to spare before boarding. I was pleasantly surprised to find that we were among the first allowed to board (thanks to my United credit card, I think) which gave us time to stow our bags and get settled before the crush.
We left the gate right on time but had to wait about an hour for the plane to get properly de-iced. It was disconcerting to see the passenger windows all covered in ice, and a relief when they were finally washed clean. After that delay, we were in the air and in clear blue skies just minutes later. The weather in Nashville was bright and sunny but unseasonably cold – around freezing in the afternoon and dipping into the teens on Saturday night.
We took a cab to our hotel, the Hyatt Place Nashville Downtown, and checked into our double room for the night. It was about 1pm and we were quickly ready to get some food and hit our first museum. The Woolworth’s Cafe that I had scouted had gone out of business so we opted for Pucketts, another historic restaurant on the same block where we shared plates of ribs and fried catfish (the catfish was better). I didn’t realize at the time but that Woolworth’s was one of the last remaining sites of the famous lunch counter sit ins of the early Civil Rights era; I wouldn’t find out about that until later researching why the name of the street had changed to John Lewis Way (see our bus tour on Monday, below).
We walked a bit further up the road in the freezing wind and eventually found the entrance to the Musicians Hall of Fame & Museum, entering around 2:30pm which gave us more than the recommended 1.5-2 hours needed for the self-guided tour before the museum closed at 5pm. We had dutifully downloaded the museum’s app which included an audio guide for the tour so we thought we were set, but as we got our tickets, we saw a sign for an $8 audio guide. The ticket person explained that the $8 got you a device with an updated guide as the app’s one was a little out of date. We elected to stay with the app.
We had to wait a few minutes for an introductory movie about the museum, a grainy, desultory 10-minute piece narrated by Duane Eddy. We then went into the museum proper and promptly got lost using the audio guide. The audio guide is narrated by Joe Chambers, the museum director and a songwriter whose heart may be in the right place but who makes for a very dull, rambling speaker. The first entry in the guide was for a display of guitars back in the lobby and the second entry was for a room of audio equipment that we’d already walked through. On top of that, you couldn’t advance from one track to the next in the app. I finally figured out that we needed to fully exit the app then come back in to get to the next display.
Laurie and I went along with the app, getting a lengthy, seemingly unscripted, unedited explanation of every item in every display case…basically whatever came into Joe Chambers’ mind at the time. Some descriptions were interesting, others not nearly as much, but there was no easy way to skip forward. We moseyed along, inch by inch. We got through the Nashville and Motown sections, and I was up to the LA (Wrecking Crew) exhibit when they announced the museum would be closing in 15 minutes. We had already spent more than 2 hours in the museum but were less than halfway through. I turned off the app and raced through the rest of the museum. blasting through the Sun Studios, Stax, American Studios in Memphis, Muscle Shoals and other exhibits. There was a lot I would have liked to see and hear about in more depth, including the whole interactive Grammy Gallery, the Mobile Studio and the Johnny Cash and Jimi Hendrix displays (though exactly why they were there was an unanswered mystery to me — they were hardly backup studio musicians) but there was no more time.
It was, in all, a very disappointing visit. It’s a shame because the museum really does have some interesting artifacts and I like the focus on the musicians behind the various recording studios and styles. The museum presumes a good acquaintance with the actual music and Laurie pointed out it would be very helpful to have more access to the actual recordings being discussed — there were a lot of references she didn’t understand. The museum has the feel of being something of an afterthought in the galaxy of Nashville music/tourist destinations — a little forlorn and under-resourced — which is too bad because it’s trying to fill an important role in celebrating the musicians and support systems that make the songs soar.
We walked back to the hotel in the frigid afternoon, crossing the crowded Broadway bar scene that was already getting louder and very crowded. We warmed up and rested in the room for a while as Laurie checked her computer and I scouted dinner options nearby so we wouldn’t have to walk far. We finally decided on a taco place, Bakersfield, that was only a block away. It turned out to be a decent choice. We got margaritas, chips and two tacos each. One of mine was advertised as spicy and the waiter made a joke to see if I was really ready for something hot. It turned out fine, not bad at all.
Laurie headed back to the room while I braved the weather to see the scene on Broadway. It was crowded, noisy and very cold. There were lots of young, booted and bearded white kids waiting in lines to get in the dozens of loud places. Every place had a band (or several, one on each floor) thumping away. Nearly everything I heard was straight up classic rock and roll or maybe country rock — Eagles, Tom Petty, Bon Jovi, Garth Brooks — music to get drunk and party to. It was loud, obnoxious and very cold, an extended frat party. I walked the 6 or so active blocks of Broadway in each direction and had enough after 30 minutes. Nothing was remotely appealing about any of the crowded, noisy honky tonks.
I got back to the hotel before 9pm. We hunted for something to watch on TV, but mostly it just distracted Laurie from working on her emails so we turned it off. Eventually we watched news and Saturday Night Live together (Zoe Kravitz was the host and Rosalia the musical guest). Our trip was off to a less than stellar start but I held out hope that things would get better. At least I was sure the weather would get warmer which would be an improvement.
Sunday, March 13 – Nashville
We had breakfast downstairs at the hotel, an unremarkable buffet of eggs, sausage and not a whole lot else…but it was free so we ate.
We decided to check out the pedestrian bridge over the Cumberland River. To get there, we made a wrong turn and wandered down Broadway again. There was still music coming from nearly every bar, but it was much quieter — mostly acoustic guitars or singers appealing to a hungover Sunday morning brunch crowd. I was slightly more tempted to settle in and listen, but we had places to go and things to see.
The original bridge, dating to 1909, was closed to vehicle traffic in 1998 and rehabbed for pedestrians only which was a nice civic gesture. The bridge offers a fine view of downtown (the “Nashville Skyline” as Bob Dylan called it…though now that I look there was no actual skyline on that album cover) and the weather wasn’t too cold. We made it halfway across. OK. Been there, done that.
We headed over to the National Museum of African American Music (museum website) and were able to enter 30 minutes ahead of our noon reserved slot. As you enter, if you give them an email address they outfit you with a bracelet that lets you save music selections to personalized Spotify playlists. The playlists stay active on the NMAAM site for 60 days; I have downloaded mine and Laurie’s to a separate post and will delve into them more deeply as time permits. These playlists turn out to be an excellent souvenir and reminder of the visit; it’s a gimmick that I wish other museums would quickly embrace.
The museum turned out to be excellent, with a good introductory movie and a number of informative interactive displays that let you listen to a wealth of music. We spent about four hours there, working our way through display areas on pre-1900 music, gospel, blues, jazz, R&B, rock, disco, hip hop and today.
While each exhibit area was informative with artifacts and descriptive displays, the heart of the museum were banks of interactive touch screen stations with headphones from which you could explore vast archives of curated music selections. There were two main databases or interfaces. Rivers of Rhythm was organized by a timeline of major eras in African American history — and I’m a sucker for timelines. I wandered through each era and downloaded the playlist for each. Another station, Roots and Streams, was a way to explore artist-by-artist based on who influenced them, their peers, and who they in turn influenced. Both databases were excellent and extremely educational; I wish they were available online. While the museum doesn’t make the databases publicly available, taking home personalized playlists of favorite songs at least hints at some of the connections.
The museum was well curated and very well put together, with the emphasis on interactive displays that were reasonably easy to navigate and readily available for the controlled number of visitors in the museum. I didn’t realize the museum had opened just a year earlier in January 2021, during the pandemic. It is an excellent model for what a music museum should be in this day and age.
Nor did I realize there was some controversy within Nashville that the museum wasn’t located in the historic black section of town. I have to say its current location across the street from the Ryman Auditorium, a block away from the Broadway tourist hubbub and two blocks from the Country Music Hall of Fame makes it very easy for tourists to visit. I think it should be on everyone’s itinerary. It’s a shame it wasn’t on the Road Scholar itinerary; I recommended it should be added.
We came back to the hotel to check in with our Road Scholars group. Our group leader, Terrie Dal Pozzo, oriented us to the itinerary and rules of the tour. It became clear pretty quickly that Terrie was fundamentally a tour guide and logistics person, not a particular expert on music. But she was a veteran guide and proved to be an enthusiastic, efficient leader.
Terrie made us stand and introduce ourselves to the group so we could meet our 20 or so fellow travelers. They were all older white folks…just like us! Most were veterans of other Road Scholars tours, which I took to be a good sign for Road Scholars’ sake. Most of them also seemed to be couples in one form or another, either married or close friends or family. Only a few were singles. They were from many parts of the country — mostly east coast and west coast, a few from the midwest. A surprising number of them seemed to be taking the tour simply for the sake of having something to do or to see new places rather than any actual familiarity or love of music. After the introductions and orientation we shared a pretty crummy hotel buffet dinner where we got to know a few others a little better.
Afterwards (it was only 7:30pm) Laurie and I discussed wandering the Broadway scene but instead repaired to my room. I had researched various shows we might see in Nashville that night but none were super-compelling. The band Khruangbin was playing for two nights at the Ryman Auditorium but I had hardly heard of them and figured their trance/dance music, while somewhat appealing in the right mood, was a little too far into left-field for me or especially for Laurie that evening. There were a few other options around town, including a bluegrass jam at the Station Inn but that involved travel and a little more ambition than we felt in the moment.
We ended up watching The Best Worst Thing That Could Have Happened, a documentary about the cast of “Merrily We Roll Along,” a failed Stephen Sondheim play. It was an adequate waste of time, not great but not terrible. Afterward, both Laurie and I admitted to not being great fans of Sondheim, a sacrilege in some circles, we know.
Monday, March 14 – Nashville
We had our free breakfast at the hotel then gathered in the lobby at 8:40am for our first day of official touring. Our first stop: the Country Music Hall of Fame, a three-minute walk from hotel. Terrie gave us three hours to get through the museum on our own with an audio guide. Laurie and I hoped it would be a better guide than we had at the Musicians’ Hall of Fame.
The museum is arranged in three floors; you start at the top to work your way down. We skipped a special exhibit on country music veteran Bill Anderson, not realizing he would be one of the acts we would see two nights later at the Grand Ole Opry. The audio guide was better than at the Musicians’ Hall of Fame but again it was light on actual recorded music…it offered a recitation of objects in the display cases but not a whole lot of context if you don’t already know the artists or their songs.
There was a special exhibit on Outlaws and Armadillos featuring lots of folks I like, though the emphasis was on the original generation of Outlaws including Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings and Kris Kristofferson whom I respect but don’t really love as much as later artists that fall under the Outlaw Country genre. I’m more a fan of next-generation folks like Guy Clark, Townes Van Zandt, Steve Earle, Buddy Miller, Emmylou Harris, Lyle Lovett, Jason Isbell, and so on.
The first thing in the exhibit was a full reconstruction of Guy Clark’s workshop which I found surprising. I learned there was a 1970s documentary, Heartworn Highways, that featured performances from many of my favorites; I need to track that down.
Thanks to this exhibit I finally figured out the difference between the groups/albums The Outlaws and The Highwaymen, both of which included Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings and long had me confused. There was also a big emphasis on the Armadillo World Headquarters concert venue in Austin, Texas that featured a broad mix of artists and music spanning many of my favorites through the 1970s until it closed.
After the Outlaws and Armadillos exhibit there was a whole special section of the museum dedicated to Kasey Musgraves and her wardrobes which frankly seemed like an unnecessary use of museum real estate. There was also a section on rising current (2021) stars that evidently included mentions of Allison Russell (Laurie saw it, I didn’t), John Hiatt and Jerry Douglas’ recent collaboration (which I was pleased to find, as Leftover Feelings was one of my favorite albums of the year), Brittney Spencer, Billy Strings (missed that too) and many others. By the time I got to this area I was running out of time and sped through it and the Hall of Fame area.
I spent a full three hours in the museum and could have stayed longer but we were on a schedule. We had to get lunch on our own before meeting back at 1:15 for the afternoon tour activities. Laurie left a few minutes before me to grab a spot at the nearby Assembly Hall where we figured we should try the original Nashville Hot Chicken Sandwich from Prince’s Hot Chicken which had an outpost in the Hall. The sandwiches turned out to be OK, with the a definite kick but nowhere near intolerable…though I don’t think I had the very highest setting. The sandwich was fine but not quite as tasty as the Popeye’s spicy chicken sandwich. There are evidently lots of variants on Nashville Hot Chicken but we didn’t end up trying any others.
In comparing notes on the museum, Laurie wondered why there were no exhibits for folks she admired like Dolly Parton (how could there be no permanent Dolly cabinet?), Rhiannon Giddens, or Iris DeMent. I agreed that the exhibit selections seemed a bit scattershot, and we both agreed that there was a need to be able to listen to the actual music in case you weren’t well versed in it already. The museum started with a fairly coherent thread of a story through the early 20th century but somewhere around the 1950s it splintered into a lot of smaller displays that showcase different genres and eras without a lot of context or connection between them, which somewhat reflects the state of the country music industry as a whole.
Our group assembled back at the museum at the appointed hour of 1:15pm for our afternoon bus tour of Nashville. We boarded our bus for the for the first time and met our driver for the duration of the week, Gary (I think…I’m terrible with names but Gary is what it will be until someone proves me wrong), a friendly older guy whose story we would slowly come to know. We also met our tour guide for the afternoon, Ron Harman. Ron started the bus tour reading from a detailed script which was informative but a little stilted. He seemed especially interested in telling us the history and room count for each of the major downtown hotels as we passed.
Our first actual stop was at the Nashville Parthenon in Centennial Park. This concrete replica, originally constructed in plaster, wood and brick for the 1897 Tennessee Centennial, is nowhere near as imposing as the Athens original but Nashville is proud of it anyway. We took a group photo on the steps but couldn’t go inside (it was closed that day for a private tour anyway). We wandered to the nearby Women’s Suffrage memorial for a moment before hopping back on the bus.
We stopped briefly for a potty break and photo op at Nashville’s Union Station, now a Marriott hotel. The interior was more impressive to some than to others.
We next headed to the Bicentennial Park (not to be confused with Centennial Park) where we took a short walk through history. The park included a World War II Memorial with a number of pillars dedicated to different themes and phases of the war (did you know America Entered the War Against Fascism in June 1940?). We walked down the Pathway of History that documents great moments in Tennessee history. I would have like to take more time to read the many inscriptions and events, but we had schedules to keep. There was a break in the Pathway for the Civil War which was a nice architectural touch; unfortunately the very first thing after the Civil War was the formation of the Ku Klux Klan in Tennessee. Heartwarming.
Bicentennial Park was opened in 1996; little was said on our tour of its history other than that the area had fallen into disrepair in the 1970s-80s and was ripe for redevelopment. A few weeks after the trip, I watched a PBS documentary, Facing North: Jefferson Street, Nashville which tells how Jefferson Street (which borders the north end of the park) was a vibrant hub of the African American community in Nashville in the early-to-mid-20th century until it became the route of Interstate 40 and urban renewal starting in the 1960s. It’s a story that is all too prevalent in American cities and all too overlooked. I have to say the black history of Nashville was pretty much non-existent on our tour; this would have been a good place to at least say something.
It also would have been good to mention at some point during the tour why the name of Nashville’s 5th Avenue from Jefferson Street past the Ryman down to I-40 south of downtown was changed last year to “John Lewis Way”. Congressman Lewis had been a college student in Nashville and participated in the historic lunch counter sit-ins at the Woolworth’s on 5th Avenue and other locations in 1960. He represented Nashville as one of the 13 original Freedom Riders the next year. Both Ron and Terrie had mentioned the name change in passing but mostly out of annoyance that it wasn’t 5th Avenue anymore. It would have been good if there was a clearer explanation. But then again, none of us on the tour asked at the time.
For that matter, there were several veiled references from various Nashville guides that the downtown area around Broadway was a seedy red-light district in the last decades of the 20th century and the vibrant current area is a triumph of tourist-based redevelopment, led partly by the relocation of the Country Music Hall of Fame along with luring NFL and NHL franchises…and building downtown arenas for both. I don’t know the full story but it’s kind of interesting that it’s not front-and-center in Nashville’s boosterism. The redevelopment and current party atmosphere is presented as the God-given natural order of things; the not-too-distant past is something to be brushed over and forgotten.
Our short walk in Bicentennial Park ended at the Rivers of Tennessee fountain (dry at this time of year) and a giant granite map of the state where again I would have liked to spend more time. But it was time to get back on the bus. Our tour guide, Ron, had been sticking close to his script so far and seemed eager to keep us on schedule. As we were driving, he filled time with an extended game of matching nicknames for various Country Music Hall of Fame members. I knew maybe half or two-thirds of the nicknames, but I daresay I knew way more than anyone else on our tour. It was somewhat disheartening proof that we were with no real hardcore music fans, just a bunch of old folks taking a tour for something to do.
As we got to Music Row, the bus slowed and Ron started relying less on his script. This was the section he really knew. The bus crawled up and down the eight blocks or so of 16th and 17th Avenues, twice so Ron could get in all his stories. We finally stopped outside RCA Studio B, the most famous of the studios on the Row. Ron was totally in his element here and proceeded to delight us with an hour-long dissertation on the history, lore, notable stars and music produced in the studio. He clearly loved the subject and dramatically played with the lights as he queued up various tracks to illustrate his stories. It was a true one-man performance, well beyond the boundaries of a regular tour. It was the highlight of the day, even if we never did quite get a handle on what defined the Nashville Sound.
The bus took us back to our hotel for a short wait until it was time for dinner and line dancing. We assembled in the lobby and walked a few blocks, past Broadway to 2nd Avenue. I didn’t realize that this was the street where the Christmas 2020 RV bomb went off until someone in the group mentioned it. Sure enough, there were still boarded-up buildings and construction sites just up the block from our destination, the Wildhorse Saloon. Evidently, most of 2nd Avenue had been shut down for most of 2021 and only the two blocks near Broadway were slowly reopening.
The Wildhorse is mecca of line dancing, specially built as a showcase and site of a line dancing TV show in the 1990s. Laurie is an active line dancer in Spain, part of an evidently thriving culture of country line dance groups there. She looked forward to this evening. I, on the other hand, am emphatically not a line dancer and rather dreaded the whole idea. I took it as a dose of cultural immersion to be endured and enjoyed mainly on Laurie’s behalf.
On this Monday, the Wildhorse was closed to the public except for us and another tour group. We were the first to arrive and our little 21-member group was dwarfed in the cavernous three-story room. A live band headed by frontman Steven Metz was already up and playing loud, with full lights and video. When it was clear after the first few tunes that we were not going to swarm the dancefloor, the band made some effort to quiet down and not intrude too much on our dinner — a very ordinary little buffet of southwestern food — but it was still quite loud and we were seated right next to the speakers. It all felt silly to have the band playing oldies for our little group of oldies while they made believe a much larger crowd was in the house. A gig is a gig, I guess, and bands are a dime a dozen in Nashville.
After about an hour of listening to the band, they took a break and an energetic young woman came out to lead a line dance lesson. The other tour group hasn’t shown up yet so we all felt obligated to get up and give it a try. Laurie and a few of the ladies were in their element but very quickly I and the other guys drifted back to our seats. I took it as my task to take photos and videos for Laurie so she could share it with her line dancing compadres in Spain. The steps were very rudimentary for Laurie but she looked like she was having a good time. A couple of the other ladies in the group also enjoyed themselves while a few others struggled to keep up.
As the dancing lesson progressed, the other tour group showed up — a bunch of high school kids, evidently a music/band tour. Fortunately, there were close to 100 of them and they enjoyed dancing so the floor filled up enough that the whole thing seemed slightly less silly.
After 30 minutes or so of actual dancing, the members of our group started leaving and before long we did too, leaving the Wildhorse and the band to the teenagers. We hope they all had a good time. I survived the cultural immersion…and a few weeks later would also survive Christine Bowman’s much longer wedding reception with many of the same songs and steps…but at least there was an open bar at the reception.
Laurie and I decided to take one more walk on the pedestrian bridge to get a view of Nashville at night. It was pretty but not enough to try a photo. Then it was back to our hotel by 9pm to rest up for our final day in Nashville. We skipped another opportunity to hit the honky tonks on Broadway.
Tuesday, March 15 – Nashville
After another buffet breakfast at the hotel we met in the lobby for the short walk to the Ryman Auditorium for our tour. We had a proper tour guide for the first 30 minutes or so, then were given another hour to wander the Ryman and look at the exhibits in more depth. The tour and the Auditorium were very impressive. I didn’t know much of the history of the Ryman: that it was started as a tabernacle by riverboat captain Thomas Ryman in 1892 after he saw the light at tentshow revival; that an enterprising stenographer, Lula C. Naff, started booking highbrow entertainers, speakers and shows in 1904 and effectively became the General Manager for more than 50 years; that the Grand Ole Opry made the Ryman its home in 1943 — somewhat against Lula’s wishes — after the radio show bounced around various Nashville venues for close to 20 years; that the Ryman fell into disrepair after the Opry left in 1974, nearly facing demolition; that a series of 1991 concerts by Emmylou Harris and the Nash Ramblers helped revive interest in the decrepit auditorium (only 200 people were allowed in the shows for safety concerns); that major renovations in 1994 and 2015 restored the Ryman as a world-class concert venue, “The Mother Church of Country Music.”
Toward the end of our tour, our little group got to sit in the front-row pews and get a photo on the stage. It was a nice little touch and it actually did feel a little bit reverential being so close to all the history that came from that stage.
A few statues of luminaries from the Ryman’s history.
After a couple of hours at the Ryman, we were on our own for lunch. Laurie and I decided to go around the corner to Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge, one of the oldest and most famous of the honky tonk bars on Broadway so at least we could say we went in one. We climbed three flights of stairs, passing a band on each level playing quiet afternoon sets for a handful of patrons each. We found a spot on the roof where we ordered what proved to be a pretty crappy patty melt and chicken sandwich. But the view was nice and the music pleasant enough from a girl and guy — mostly old Tom Petty, Fleetwood Mac and Jimmy Buffett covers. The 70s rule! So much for country music. We didn’t properly appreciate the history of Tootsie’s (evidently a core part of the revival of the downtown area), nor did we peruse the many historic photos on the walls, but we did enjoy the view.
We headed back to the hotel to catch our 1:45 bus for Grand Ole Opry. We decided to go through the Walk of Fame Park across the street from the Country Music Hall of Fame. We tried but failed to figure out the rhyme or reason for some of the stars included (Jimi Hendrix? Steve Winwood? Peter Frampton?). We noticed the Walk of Fame sign had a rather ambitious depiction of the park, including a Great Lawn and colorful “Nashville Music Gardens.” Mid-March reality on a cool, grey day looked far bleaker. It reminded Laurie of visiting a site in Spain where there were fanciful depictions of fountains and structures nowhere to be seen. The guide explained that these were “features that exist in the owner’s imagination.” We agreed that was an all-around useful phrase, one we found ourselves repeating often through the trip.
We got back on the bus for our 20-minute jaunt out to the Grand Ole Opry House for our afternoon tour and evening performance. True confession time: despite it being an American institution and perhaps the most recognizable national outlet for country music, I have never listened to a radio broadcast of the Grand Ole Opry. I think it’s mostly because I don’t listen to the radio at the times it’s broadcast (generally Saturday from 9-11pm) and unlike most things on Sirius/XM nowadays, the show doesn’t seem to be rebroadcast or streamed on-demand (I could be wrong, but in any case I haven’t found it). Similarly, I’ve never actually watched a TV broadcast for pretty much the same reasons: it’s been hard for me to find to watch at the times I want to watch. It’s been mostly a matter of inconvenience but also a matter of not knowing who was appearing when and not wanting to sit through a package of acts I don’t know or like to get to the one or two I want to see. It’s the same reason I never listen to mainstream country music stations — most of it I just can’t take so I find other ways to seek out the (unjustly) “fringe” artists I like. So I walked into this afternoon’s tour and evening performance not knowing a whole lot about the institution or its traditions.
The Grand Ole Opry moved to this showcase concert hall and TV studio in 1974, part of a whole Opryland theme park and tourist attraction at the time. Today, the theme park is gone, replaced by a giant Opry Mills mall, but the concert venue, mall and nearby Gaylord Opryland Hotel still feel quite like a standalone theme park. The whole thing is the spawn of Ryman Hospitality Properties, the corporate overlord of all things Opry…and so much more.
Our hour-long Grand Ole Opry Tour started with a star-studded, highly produced introductory film featuring Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood as the reigning royal couple of country music, I suppose (I’m not a fan, can you tell?). After the film, a guide briefed us further on Opry history and led us through backstage areas including the TV soundstage where Hee-Haw was filmed for many years (I had no idea).
We were guided through the backstage “front desk” and Opry Post Office. Evidently you can address a fan letter to your favorite Opry member in care of the Grand Ole Opry and they will get the mail right in their little post box. A cute gimmick. I’m sure Garth and Trisha stop by regularly to collect their mail.
There was also a wall commemorating Opry Members. Much is made of Opry Membership, which I didn’t know much about. It’s not the same as being inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame, but has its own mystique hyped by the Opry machine. The Opry’s intro movie and Circle TV network repeatedly sprinkle clips of the moment various stars are “surprised” on stage by getting their invitation from an existing Opry member. The clip most prominently featured is that of Darius (Hootie) Rucker being invited in 2012 — most prominent because a) Darius seems genuinely surprised and moved by the honor and cries appropriately and b) because he’s black and it shows that the Opry is really truly open-minded, shamelessly papering over the fact that Rucker was (and still is) only the third black Opry member in its history (the other two: Charley Pride in 1993 and DeFord Bailey in 1926).
Opry membership criteria is opaque and very much a subjective commercial decision made by the vaguely defined “Opry management team”. Membership is for life (usually) and includes an obligation to perform with some frequency on the Opry program, evidently up to 12 times/year though there’s little evidence the big stars appear that often. Oddly, despite Internet denizens’ penchant for documenting everything, I can find no track record for how often various performers actually show up. There are, for example, a handful of Opry members I’d like to see or search out their clips (e.g., Emmylou Harris, Alison Krauss, Marty Stuart) but I can’t find when or how often they’ve performed. Opry membership skews heavily toward mainstream country radio artists that are not in my wheelhouse of music preferences. That said, I’ve found one pandemic show from 2020 that featured Old Crow Medicine Show (an Opry Member), Molly Tuttle, Billy Strings and Dom Flemons. I’d enjoy seeing more shows like that. Where are they?
We were escorted through dressing rooms, a few of which had actual band members starting to get ready for the evening’s show (though no one I recognized). We went in the green room for a few minutes where we had the option to sit in the actual couches that held country music legends’ butts! I didn’t sit. It’s kind of hard to believe they let tour groups in there every day, but it’s all very much part of the mystique the Opry cultivates of everything being close to and all for its audience.
That mystique was strongest when we were shuffled onstage for a few minutes and given the chance to worship at the circle in the center of the stage (though if you wanted an official photo that would be $45 extra, please). This circle of wood from the original Ryman Auditorium stage (actually taken from a rear corner of the Ryman stage during reconstruction) is now treated as a holy relic and symbolic center of Country Music. The circle is wrapped up in the self-reinforcing mythology of the song, Will the Circle Be Unbroken, its links to the Carter Family and country music’s oldest roots, the circle of Grand Ole Opry members, the deep history of all the performers on the Opry, and permeates the Circle TV network, one of the current key propaganda wings of the Opry empire.
Even though we didn’t get a picture in the circle, it was pretty cool to be onstage for a few minutes while the tech people got ready for the night’s show. It is a full-scale professional production as big-league as it gets, four nights a week or more.
The tour finished around 3:30pm which left 3.5 hours to kill before showtime. To help fill time, Terrie took a bunch of us on the bus to the nearby Gaylord Opryland Hotel to be wowed by its vast enclosed atria of gardens and such. We were duly impressed.
For the rest of the time until the 7pm show, Terrie left us to our own devices to feed or entertain ourselves in the Opry Mills mall. Laurie and I made our way to the Bavarian Bierhaus where we shared some wings and beers. As we were waiting, I noticed that one of the lens screws on my eyeglasses had come out; I was lucky I hadn’t lost the lens altogether. I took advantage of our downtime to hustle around the mall to try and get it repaired. After failing frustratingly at several different shops, I found a helpful salesperson at a Sunglasses Hut store (the second Sunglasses Hut I found in the mall; why are there two? who knows but I’m glad there were) who put in a temporary screw that ended up working just fine for the rest of the trip. Sometimes things work out — if the screw had come out any other time on the trip or if I’d lost my lens, I would have been screwed.
It finally neared time for the show, so Laurie and I headed back to the Opry and found our seats. Road Scholar did get us a nice block of seats near the left front of the stage.
For the several months leading up to the show I checked the Opry website to see who would be performing. The whole time, even a week before the trip, it said the lineup would include Carly Pearce, Dailey & Vincent, Karen Mills, Randall King, and more. I didn’t know any of them though I learned Carly Pearce was a rising star in the Nashville firmament and just won top female entertainer awards from the CMA and ACM. Evidently her star rose far enough she found something better to do because she wasn’t actually on the bill when we showed up. Instead, Bill Anderson, Dustin Lynch, MacKenzie Porter, and Chris Young were added. I didn’t know any of them either, other than the longtime Nashville fixture Bill Anderson whose exhibit we had skipped at the Country Music Hall of Fame the day before…and even then I really only knew his name, none of his songs. I don’t know how frequently the Opry juggles its show lineups but I get the feeling it’s pretty often. The audience is there for the overall Opry experience, not so much for the specific performers.
The show started promptly at 7pm for the live radio and streaming video audiences. Bill Anderson opened the show with three quick songs and a smile and then was gone. I guess at age 84 he has an early bedtime. Randall King brought some youthful energy in what I believe was his Opry debut but I won’t be running out to find more of his songs. Comedian Karen Mills did some stale jokes for her set. Dailey & Vincent closed the first hour with three quick bluegrass tunes and an a capella gospel song.
There was a little break before the top of the hour when the Circle TV audience was added for what was effectively a second show featuring Dustin Lynch, MacKenzie Porter and Chris Young. None of the songs or performers were especially memorable. By 9pm the main show was all wrapped up. We were asked to stay in our seats while Chris Young and his band recorded one more song for a video. And that was it. Back to the buses.
I think I got the photos in more or less the right order and identified the right people, but honestly they nearly all looked alike…and sounded alike, too. In all, the Opry was an interesting spectacle but the performers and music were so-so at best. There was not a lot of magic to be had this night, though everyone gave it their TV-energy all. I was not converted to become a regular fan.
Wednesday, March 16 – Nashville to Memphis
We had one last Hyatt breakfast then checked out and boarded our bus by 8:30am. We rode a short distance into the Nashville suburbs to Belle Meade Plantation (Wikipedia). Belle Meade was mainly a horse farm going back to 1807 but is now solely a tourist attraction. We spent a while in the gift shop before touring the main house. The guides made a good effort to keep things interesting but there’s honestly not a whole lot of history to be had unless you’re particularly interested in the Harding family or their line of thoroughbred horses. We will give them credit for at least mentioning several of the key enslaved people that played important roles running the house and keeping the horses (though I’m afraid I didn’t note their names, nor did they make it into the Wikepedia entry). The Plantation was built to take advantage of the Natchez Trace which gave me an incentive to look up the fascinating history of this ancient trail but it was research I had to do on my own.
After the house tour, we were given nearly an hour to have a wine tasting and wander the grounds before having a very early 11am lunch at the carriage house. We got back on bus at 12:15 or so to begin the 3-hour drive to Memphis.
In my view, this Belle Meade stop was entirely unnecessary. There was no connection to music or anything else on the tour and we easily could have made it to Memphis before needing a lunch break. If the Road Scholar folks were looking to fit in one other Nashville attraction, I would have much rather spent a couple of hours at Andrew Jackson’s Hermitage, even if it was 25 minutes in the wrong direction from downtown.
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