At first we weren't sure what the score was with Nashville. On our way into the city center we saw approxomately one million police officers. Seems like a fightin' town. Downtown the music is always free though, and the BBQ is good, and the daughters of the south are present. And we met up with Travis and his friends Mark and Ben and Erica the half-sleeve tatted bartender on her way to North Carolina sent several rounds our way and the good times got to rolling.
I hung back with a couple glasses of water (because in spite of the website name one thing we don't do is drive drunk) and we made our way over the Cumberland river into East Nashville, which except for the 90% humidity feels a lot like Portland. Nashville Mark broke out this jar of rasberry shine, and in spite of the fact that it was his birthday he shared it with us.
They have a giant white German Shepard named Tulsa. Took the Toe a little getting used to, but Tulsa is the major buddy. He don' give a shit and loves everyone -- except people who come to the door in uniforms, of course. So we got all fired up, saw a little of the hood on foot, got giant glasses of whiskey and t-shirts from Niko, the major man at the Red Door East Saloon, came back, broke out the Texas Thunder Cannon, had a good ol' time.Now we're feeling the second-day effects of the rasberry shine, copying music switching between great concert DVDs and the Supreme Court hullabaloo, waiting on a pizza.