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.
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.
