 |
| Flock of birds rising at Metro Center |
But this isn’t that post, nor will I write that post. Nashville is still home to a number of people who mean the world to me, so I won’t slag their hometown. No one needs to hear my words about traffic, gentrification and the tourist-bent of local decision-making.
Instead, here are a few individual goodbyes to the places in Nashville that sustained me, especially in the last year.
Goodbye Peeler Park
It’s the last park of Nashville unimpeded by newcomers and owners turning every green space into a off-leash dog park. A few turns through the grit of Madison and a long drive to the end of a bend in the Cumberland River brought me to Peeler Park many evenings and early mornings. The park hosted ozens of deer, turkeys, the occasional bird of prey and solitude from the nearby city. Also, a colony of feral cats lives in the woods near the parking lot. I already miss that refuge and the one place I enjoyed riding my bike in Nashville.
 |
| Deer in the Peeler Park meadows |
 |
| Someone wanted me to stay at Peeler Park |
For a long time, I led a double comic book life. On my first day at work in May 2007, I stopped at the Great Escape on Broadway with Ric Gross. Twelve years later, Ric and I went to the Great Escape on Charlotte one last time, one of the longest traditions I have had in my life. Ric's brother Al even joined us for the occasion. Almost every week for 12 years we went. Rick’s Comic City became my second stop after I moved to Donelson. It was down the street from my house. It’s the best pure comic shop in town. On the way home from work on Wednesday I found reasons to stop. Seeing the place packed on a Wednesday brightened me up. The friendly staff at both stores never shied from conversation about comics, toys, movies or whatever.
Goodbye Porch
I wrote in isolation for years, my fiction becoming a necessity when creativity drained from the writing at my day job. Eventually I found the Nashville literary community and some good friends. I took classes through the Porch and attended dozens of fiction meetups for writing feedback. Not a Porch event, but the Southern Festival of Books might be Nashville’s greatest free event, an intimidating set of literary events spread around the downtown library and nearby plazas. The literary community in my new home has a high bar to surpass.
 |
| Books I didn't have to buy thanks to NPL |
When I left Columbus, I missed the library for about a week till I discovered it had a rival in Nashville's fine library system. The tiny Donelson branch where I borrowed and stole wireless for years will be replaced in a few years, but I will always have a soft spot for its narrow aisles.
If I had anything resembling a neighborhood bar in Nashville, this Donelson taproom fit. Pouring craft brews and with decent pub grub, they also hosted beer festivals and biweekly bluegrass jams hosted by Roland White, the bluegrass stalwart and my one-time mandolin teacher. My friend from work, Chris Lewis, also played in the two-hour jams, which never failed to entertain. Honorable mentions go to Donelson eateries Jalisco and Sub Depot, where I never had a disappointing or overpriced meal.
 |
| Bluegrass jam at Homegrown Taproom |
2019 started with a new night job, working at Vintage Wine & Spirits. The people were nice, the store was unlike any other I knew of. It wasn’t just a big Grand Cru; it was different. I felt bad about leaving so soon. I had a long history with Grand Cru – I met the manager, Jason, two days after moving to Nashville, worked there on and off for five years and shopped there till my last days. In both stores I made good friends, the result of working many hours in close quarters.
Goodbye Good Times Café
From Day One at Metro Center, I was glad there was a café on the first floor of our office building. By serving excellent breakfast sandwiches – turkey, egg and cheese on a biscuit was my regular order since 2007.
 |
| Belcourt's Essential Westerns series, perhaps its best ever |
Back in November 2007, the first movie I saw at the Belcourt was I’m Not There, a loose Bob Dylan biopic. Sometimes there were missing seats, and other seats bowed down to uncomfortable angles. Too few people remember the struggling Belcourt of yesteryear. The theater remained relevant to me. Along with the usual spat of art films, you never knew what else they might project on those screens. The last movie I saw was Singin’ in the Rain. The Belcourt would be a hard institution to replace in any town, and its bold programming inspired me to seek out movies on the big screen, to see them in their original form.
Goodbye Crosswood Court
I loved my Donelson neighborhood, most of the neighbors and the house. Even the constant landing airplanes never bothered me – along with commercial flights, the Air National Guard wing offered everything from WWII-era prop planes to massive C-130 cargo planes. Two neighbors converted their front yards into lush gardens. My neighbor next door lent a hand if he could. Watching the sunset from the living room couch or sitting on the porch while the neighbor cats ate and cavorted was a pleasure that he helped unwind on many nights. You never knew what other creatures might cross Crosswood - deer, fox, coyote, skunk, raccoon, frog, hummingbird, box turtle and turkey were sighted on or near the cul-de-sac.
 |
| Never a dull patio |
 |
| Front yard turkey |
I have written sparingly about outdoor cats Nancy and I cared for and I fed for another year after she left. Of the seven cats and their mother, three still visit the yard. I will miss them, but they are born hunters, still harvesting birds, mice and moles, and expect they will roam for years to come. Only three still roam, and I suspect the cats will do fine without me.
As will Nashville.
 |
| They always gave each other a rub of greeting |
2 comments:
I wish we had spent more time together. Miss you already. Fare thee well.
I'm missing you here, Ralph.
Post a Comment