Home For the Holiday's

I decided last minute to go back to Southern California for Christmas.  I am very glad I did, it was really nice to be home for Christmas and to spend time with my family and friends for the holidays.  I brought the Banjo with me and did some pickin’ Tennessee Jimmy told me not to leave home with out it, so I try not to.  Christmas was great, I was surprised at how many people told me they read this blog.  I ate a lot of food, mostly Mexican since I have not found much really good Mexican out in the South.  Christmas afternoon I went to Adrianna’s family’s which was fun, but it was constant eating, I got there and we had tamales, then there were nachos, and menudo, then they started grilling chicken fajitas, then burgers.  As soon as you’re plate was empty it was time to fill it up with something else.  El viente y dos course meal.  Christmas night I went to Shanti’s house and met up with my friends there.  This has been my fourth year going to Shanti’s which makes it my longest standing Christmas tradition.  The first year I went to Shanti’s I only knew my five friends there out of the 30+ family members there.  I walked in a little late, from coming from my family’s party.  The whole gang was in the back of the house gathered around Mr. Medina who was playing guitar, and everyone was singing.  So when I walked in, they shouted “last one here has to sing a song!”  So I turned around, ran back to my car, and came back with my banjo, and played the rest of the night.  And so began my banjo picking at Shanti’s for Christmas. 

            I flew American Airlines, it was the cheapest flight I could get on short notice.  I had my banjo as a carry on and had a connecting flight going through Dallas TX.  I had absolutely no problems taking my banjo on the plane and putting it in the over head, until LA, on my way back.  There were two people working at the gate calling people on board, a nice lady and a high energy Asian man with a heavy accent.  For some reason, this Asian guy was a carry on bag Nazi.  He was literally taking people’s bags and fitting them in the little bag measuring box, and having people check them if they didn’t fit.  One lady had her purse, a carry on bag, and a little shopping bag, that was too many for Kahn Souphanousinphone, (King of the Hill reference, LOVE IT!) he actually wanted her to check a shopping bag, what?  So he defiantly did not like the banjo case.  He tried to take it, I said “No, I’m not checking it.”  He said I could check it and pick it up in Nashville.  I was tired and was not going to check it, plain and simple.  So I didn’t say “No, I don’t want to.”  I told him, “No, I am not going to check it.”  Fully ready to miss my flight over this, he made me wait and get on the plane last.  “That too big, that take up three spaces you can’t take on plane, stupid red neck hillbilly instrument!”  The other lady even asked him, what his deal was.  I got on the plane, plenty of room in overhead for a banjo, and the flight was just fine.  I don’t know what his deal was, maybe he has some deep issue with banjos, maybe Deliverance hit too close to home for him, or Foggy Mountain Breakdown just makes him angry.  Whatever the reason, I got on the plane and had a successful holiday in Southern California.  Now I am back to Tennessee, and picking along.  I will be back to Long Beach in a month for my birthday, have not decided on taking the banjo with me or not.

Nashville Air

Hanging out in Nashville, you can brush elbows with all sorts of people, and walking around with an instrument is an open invitation to meet people.  I was walking by this little guitar shop by the Station Inn with Andrew, there was a little concert going on inside.  Andrew looked in and said, “Hey! That’s John Oates!” I would not have recognized him, but we watched from the outside for a couple minutes before heading down town.  I have also wondered into Ernest Tubbs’ Records and seen a small band pickin’ on the back stage.  I do not recall the band, but I did notice the guitar player, a true Texas Troubadour, an older man, named Leon Rhodes.  If you ever listen to an old Ernest Tubbs record and he calls out “Hey Leon” before a solo, that’s him still picking in downtown Nashville. After a cold, cold night of playing the streets we headed to dinner.  Sitting at the table, drinking a beer, banjo by my side, this old man named Russ, comes up to us and says, “Ya’ll musicians huh?” “Yes, Sir.”  Then he went on to tell us how he was a drummer, and played with Faron Young for 3 years.  And of course I then broke into “Hello Walls, how’d things go for you today…?”  He had stories about The Hag, and Willie, etc.  He said there was no money in it any more, but as much as I would love to make millions and may dream about selling out arenas and gold and platinum on the walls, at this point its not about the money, it’s about meeting people like Russ and playing “Wagon Wheel” or “Rocky Top” for people on the streets.  That was just one night of busking the streets of Nashville.  I am starting to feel like I am just barely scratching the surface of music in this town.  Nashville is truly Music City USA, and there is music in the air around every corner in this town, and now every once in a while, me and my Nelson Banjo, are adding some plunking to that music in the Nashville air.

In other news, I have been fully converted to a sweet tea fan, it is so good, and they make it best in the South.  BBQ pork sandwich and sweet tea, perfect!  Also, smoked wings are crazy good.  Put all those smells in the air along with a banjo ringing and guitar twang, then, you are in the South, friend! 

First Dollar In the Bank.

What had started out to be a long annoying Sunday, turned out to be pretty great.  Andrew and I had been doing a lot of picking lately.  This week we headed up to his parent’s farmhouse to play out in the barn, (seriously) because we could be as loud as we want, as late as we want.  So, with a guitar, a banjo, and a Mason jar of moonshine we headed out after some gas station fried chicken, it was one of those Southern Nights Glen Campbell sang about.  We played music, wrote, music, it was a good time.  Saturday night I headed to church to watch their annual Christmas play, which was pretty good, there are a lot of talented musicians at this church, as I’m sure there are at a lot of churches around here.  I was invited to a dance party after, and decided to check it out.  To be quite honest, I thought it was pretty lame at first; I had not been to a party like this, without any kind of booze in a long time.  But after hanging out for a while, I actually had a good time with some new friends, and no one threw up or got stupid, and there was no hang over!

            However, the next morning wasn’t all that great.  I got home about mid-night.  Went to bed and all seemed like Saturday was pretty much over.  Until about 4:30AM, my roommates started, their party, loud music, constant shots, yelling, a lot of different voices, good morning…  They never stopped the party, I got up at 7:00 and got ready for church, went to Starbucks and watched Psych on my computer until church started.  They were still going at it when I left.  Now, before you start thinking I’m a square and can’t hang out.  I can, I just had stuff to do in the morning.  And I still love beer, but these are not the guys I want to drink my beer with.  To me, having a beer with someone is a special thing, part of the reasons I love bars so much, is meeting different people and hearing stories, whether they’re true or not, doesn’t really matter.  So sitting around taking shots, with people you don’t really care for, until you can’t remember your name, is not how I want to spend my nights. Some free advice, if a guy is using empty liquor bottles as decorations, this is not who you want to hang out with, and ladies if you’re talking to one of these guys, maybe find a new date, anyone that feels the need to show off that they have finished 20 bottles of Popov vodka, in a semester, you don’t need to waste your time with. 

            After church I came home, took a nap, practiced banjo, then Andrew and I went up to Nashville to jam at the Station Inn.  Turns out, this Sunday was a benefit show for the homeless.  I asked the guy at the door about the jam, and he replied “Every Sunday night, except when they have special events, ya didn’t read the website did ya?” We walked out, and Andrew said, “Dang that even made me feel dumb.”  Yeah… Thanks Jackass.  But, the night was young!  We headed out to downtown Broadway, home of the Ryman, Bridgestone Arena, Tootsie’s, Cadillac Ranch, Wild Horse Saloon, etc. And we tossed the Banjo case open, strapped on our axes and started picking and singing.  We took a request, “Wagon Wheel” but the 28 degree cold, did not work well with our picking fingers, so we went to grab a beer and food after about a half hour on the streets.  However we made out first dollar playing music in Nashville, just one though.

            Side note, When my roommates party it up all night, it’s usually 6 or 7+ guys and one or two girls, (Sometimes the girls from up stairs come down and drink all their vodka and leave.) While, at the dance party with people from church and without any liquor, there are about 6 very pretty young ladies, to every guy, just something to think about.

           

Song Writing 101

The best advice any song writer can give you is “Write what you know.”  Which is great advice really, but it doesn’t really tell you how to start.  In Nashville, song writing is HUGE.  A lot of people make a living as song writers here, and even more people try to make a living as song writers.  I was a member of the Nashville Song Writers Association, for a year, and I learned a lot about it.  Most importantly I saw that Country song writing is very competitive, and a lot of it is “What’s hot right now” This is a little discouraging to a guy like me, because most of my musical hero’s have not had a number one hit for 20-30 years.  Guys like, Merle Haggard, Vince Gill, Waylon Jennings, Hank Thompson, Roger Miller, Tom T. Hall… etc.  As a Banjo player, I am drawn to Bluegrass, I love the musicianship in it, the back and fourth of shear instrumental talent that cannot be faked.  So when it comes to my own song writing, lyrically I get “honky-tonky” Singing about trucks, drinking, broken hearts, and lost dogs, ok not really about lost dogs.  However, I have recently realized that if I am whistling a tune, or making up a little melody, I can usually pick it out on banjo, with some practice. 

I met Andrew McBride at the Church Service I have been going to on Tuesday nights.  The fact that I met him at Church says a lot in its self.  Andrew is a guitar player and singer/songwriter, we talked a little and decided we should get together and make some music, and that is exactly what we did, made some music.  Every time I’ve played with people before, it’s usually trying to play a bluegrass standard exactly how it was written in whatever book I learned it from, which is great, but takes away from some creativity.  The first time Andrew and I got together, he played some of the songs he had written, and then asked, “What’ve ya got?” So I played.  I played Foggy Mountain Breakdown, Rocky Top, and the cool thing was he actually recognized these songs... welcome to Tennessee.  Then I played him some original tunes and we started playing off each other, it was WAY cool, and new for me.  We can start with a little tune either on banjo that I made up, or something he has, and then count it out, look in the back of his Baptist Hymnal, find a song in the same timing, and boom, a song is made.  The cool thing about this is we have instant words, now, we can change these down the line if we want to, but for now the song is done.  The other cool thing, is we are singing hymms that are over 200 years old and turning them into completely different songs.

My Dad always talks about living in Long Beach with his room mate, Tennessee Jimmy Harrell and Gary Spangler.  Not only was I named after Jimmy, (the J in Cooper J Nelson) but musically, he and Gary taught me EVERYTHING I know.  Gary was and still is my banjo teacher, and up until I came to Tennessee, Jimmy was the only guy that I knew that knew all the country songs I know and then some.  They often talk about the old days when Gary and Jimmy would play music out and then end up back at one of their places and pick all night long, sometimes with guys like, Vince Gill, or Dwight Yoakum, back when they were just another couple musicians hanging out.  Now I finally understand what was going on with them.  It’s a lot of fun to play with people and have a musical connection at the same level.  I truly believe that no one can sing a country song like Tennessee Jimmy Harrell, and if you’re ever in Central California (Paso Robles) you need to go see his show.  Just ask around, you’ll find him, he’s famous around those parts.  Now I know what was going on with them musically back then, and I better understand how Jimmy and Gary got to be “Jimmy and Gary” I may have a lot of musical hero’s, but those are the guys that truly shared their talents with ME.  I can already see improvement in myself musically since I’ve been in Tennessee, just going to show that I might be on the right track coming from California with a banjo on my knee.  Andrew and I could be the next Brooks and Dunn, or we could be the next Jimmy and Gary, and honestly I would be ok with either one, at this point I just give is up to God and have fun a pickin’ and a grinnin’!

Sundays in Nashville

On Sundays in Nashville, nothing really happens until after noon time, because it is the Bible belt.  If you don’t go to one church, you go to another.  My Sundays are no different.  I started attending a Southern Baptist Church, and have only missed one Sunday since I’ve been in Tennessee and that was because I got here on a Saturday night and didn’t go that first Sunday.  After hanging out in the back pews and darting out right after the service for the first few Sundays I eventually branched out, and now have lunch with a few people after service, including the pastor.  After lunch I usually watch the Seahawks lose (I will be a Seattle fan forever, they’ll make a come back again…) Then I practice banjo, maybe write some stuff and play some music for a while.  Then at 7:00 I head to Nashville, to The Station Inn.  I have heard of The Station, before I came here.  It is one of those famous honky-tonks that specializes in traditional bluegrass. 

The Station Inn, is a small dark bar, with a hard wood floor and a stage up front.  Sunday nights is an open bluegrass jam.  And this is not like any bluegrass jam I’ve ever been to.  The people here are true bluegrassers.  They could not be nicer either, the usual crew is an older crowd and are amazing musicians, but all levels of pickers are welcome.  It’s hard to explain what its like without actually being there, and I’ll admit it might not be your style, but for me seeing these people get together and play songs with each other like they’ve been playing together for years even though they just met, is AMAZING!  The best part is when they call out a song I know and pass the lead around the circle and give me the head not to take it, I mostly stand in the back and play along, but every once in a while I step up and pick one with them all.  Music in Tennessee is everywhere and there is no cover to get in the bar to see a bad band.  You can’t walk down Broadway in Nashville without hearing music.  They pass the tip jar around every so often, these musicians may have plans to be a superstar someday, or maybe they just love playing in the bars, but there is a universal love for music around this town, which is exactly why I am here.  Pickin’ and Grinnin’!

Another Black Friday in the Books

Another Black Friday in the books:

I have been in retail for 7 years, and in 2011, what was shaping up to be potentially easiest Black Friday ever, turned out to be hardest.  Old Navy has been open on Thanksgiving Day for the past 3 years, company wide.  I don’t like that, however, it is a corporate company, and they make a TON of money being open, so, of course in true greedy corporate American spirit, they said “Let’s not recognize the Holiday, and focus on the bottom line.”  So, the fact that I have had to work the past four years was disappointing, however, with my new found gratefulness for life, and work, I was trying to stay positive for my 2:00pm to 9:00pm shift.  It was hard though especially since we were very busy, and I essentially missed any kind of Thanksgiving.  There will be more Thanksgivings to come, and someday I will be out of this business, so I kept telling myself that. 

            I met a guy at work, Travis, he is a full time student, and doesn’t work that often which is why I hadn’t met him yet.  Travis is the president of his Fraternity and was the Home-coming King.  He was all about the Frat life, sideways visor, popped collar on the polo, the whole nine yards.  After folding clothes with him for a few hours and telling him a little about myself, he invited me to a country bar in town, “Whiskey Dix” I said, sure, I might swing by after work.  I went home after work, but he called me out, so I figured, why not, my roommates were home playing videogames, no surprise there, and the day had turned into another busy work day, nothing to do with tradition or holiday.  Whiskey Dix, has a special, $5 to get in, free beer… all night…! So I met up with Travis, and we drank, and we drank, and then, drank some more.  I did not make it out on to the dance floor, but when the DJ played “Rocky Top” and the whole bar sang along at the top of their lungs, you could bet I was right there with them.  Who knew a California kid would know every word?  The party moved back to the Frat house down the street, where shots were poured and shots were drank, and couches were passed out on.  Looking back, it was a good thing I didn’t get stuffed on a big ole Thanksgiving feast, because I lost everything I had eaten that day, in a Frat house bathroom, at least I know I wasn’t the first to pray to that porcelain god. 

            I made it home early the next morning, just to pass out for a few more hours, throw up some more, and curse my new friendship for a terrible hangover on the busiest day of the year.  I did make it to work on time at 1:00pm, with the hangover still hanging around.  The first few hours were a bit of a blur, not really sure what was going on completely, just did laps around the store, trying to walk it off.  With all the other chaos going on, no one really noticed.  Travis had to be at work at 8:00am, he was late.  I walked in looking, well, like I drank the bar dry, and Travis and I gave the hung over, head nod and half smile that says, “Man, we went OUT last night.”  They had me LOD (leader on duty) for a few hours, which was dumb, because it’s black Friday, and I am NOT a manager, but that just meant I could fly under the radar a little bit longer.  I asked about my fifteen-minute break, and the response I received was, “Oh, we’re not giving fifteens today.” To which I replied, “So, can I go on my break now then?” Then I went on my break.

 After some Sprite, I felt a bit better, and realized; they were serious about not giving any breaks out.  Well, shouldn’t make me LOD then.  I gave EVERY associate working, their deserved, 15-minute break.  I did do some research and it is not a state law to give a paid fifteen here, like it is in California, however, it is still the company policy, which makes it a legal promise.  After a little while, people started spreading the word, that if you need a break, go tell Cooper, he’ll let you go on a fifteen.  There are two things I love about the fact that I was giving people breaks.  1. Again, I am in no way, a manager any more, I’m just a regular sales associate that knows how things work, and can see right through management BS.  2.  Not one of the managers even noticed that I was sending people on breaks.  Way to go team.  The way I see it, I have been in charge of three other Black Fridays and on every one of those, I hired the right amount of people, trained them on time, and scheduled them with a full shift, including a one hour lunch break, and two paid fifteen minute breaks, and made sure they all took their breaks on time.  Of course I had help from the other leaders at the stores I worked at.  So when my new manager says, “We are not giving breaks because it’s too busy today.”  All I hear is, “I failed to plan accordingly and can’t do my job.”  Before you think, “That’s being a little harsh!” keep in mind, I came in hung over, and managed to dole out breaks with out any one missing a beat.  As hard as it was to deal with, both because, of my self inflicted sickness, and trying to wrap my head around how these people can run this store this way, at the end of the day I was thankful for being just a banjo player, and not a manager of any kind.  Also, I loved how thankful people were when I said they could have a break.  Management 101, keep your employees happy.

Red Robin, Yummm.... Cough.. Cough...

This week I was hired at Red Robin, as a server.  Now, I will say that Red Robin seems like a great place to work and is a very fun work environment.  Having said that, I started my training week on Monday.  The training process is actually pretty difficult.  There are quizzes, memorizing drinks, all menu items, taking orders fast and efficiently, etc.  I have no problem with hard work, however, after working two jobs this week, and being told to study for tests for a job that pays me less than I have ever been paid, which, quite frankly is just not going to happen, I realized I had forgotten why I came to Tennessee.  The last month has been crazy hard for me personally, everything I know and everyone I love is over 2000 miles away and I am not playing music any more than I could have in California or Washington.  But there has been one thing that has felt great down south in the Bible belt, Church.  Since working at Old Navy part time, I have had the opportunity to be at Church every Sunday with out fail.  I have also been able to go to another service on Tuesday nights.  With this new job and the old one, I would be working a lot and putting Church and Music in the back seat, I’ve done that before, it didn’t work out.  So after a week of training to be a server, I drove up to Nashville Thursday night after playing music with a new friend, which was a blast.  I ended up out side the Opry House, home of the Grand Ole Opry.  It was about 32 degrees out and no one was around, I sat in my car for a little while, then I walked up to the Opry House.  They had Christmas music playing already, and it was a steel guitar version of “Silent Night” it was this moment that I realized and remembered why I drove 2053 miles, and it was not to be a server at Red Robin.  So, Friday morning, I turned in my apron and name tag and thanked them for the opportunity and the free food all week, but it wasn’t going to work out.  This was the second time in 3 months and in my life I quit a job, and quitting a job feels great! Johnny Paycheck was defiantly on to something there. 

            I also talked to my manager at Old Navy and committed to him, that I’m all theirs over the holidays.  I realized although Old Navy might not be my ideal career, I’m good at it, and I can do a great job with out a lot of effort.  I also have the advantage of pursuing music and continuing Church.  It’s funny, how as soon as you start to figure things out and get closer to Jesus, distractions come flying at you non-stop.  This time last year I had never heard of Murfreesboro Tennessee, now I live here, and while I may have came for my banjo career, I know I am here for bigger reasons and I need to trust in the Lord to get me there.

            Country Music and God mean so much to me, and this week, I lost sight of that for the first time in a while, but I did get back on track and for that, I feel great.  I know challenges and temptations, will not stop, but now I am better prepared and I may not know where I am going, or how I’m getting there, but I do have faith and know trust that I will get there.

 On a side note, I have been a Service and Training Manager for over three years, and in that time, I tried my best to keep it professional, wear collared shirts, nice shoes.  I didn’t hang out with my associates, or text them, or anything like that.  I was the manager and they were employees, in a corporate business like Old Navy or Red Robin, there is a separation.  One’s not better than the other; there is just a professional separation.  So, when my new training manager (from Red Robin) texts me one evening and asks what I’m doing, I thought it was weird, but no big deal.  Then she asks if she can ask me a personal question.  I say “Sure.”  Expecting her to ask about my love life, but she comes out of left field, and asks if I smoke weed!?  Because she is looking for someone to get high with.  I don’t even no how to reply to that, I can kind of understand if maybe you’re at a party and someone asks, but my new training manager?! Really?!  I reply with no, she says, “Oh ok, I just wanted someone to smoke with, no pressure but if you ever want to, let me know.” What is going on?  

The New Roommates

Although I am happy I was able to move out of the trailer park pretty quick, the new apartment I live in now is just a small step up.  It is a nice facility with plenty of great commodities.  However the major downside is it is pretty much a college dorm, but bigger.

As I sit in my room trying to write a few tunes this afternoon, I couldn’t help but over hear my roommate and 2 of his friends talk in the living room while playing video games.  Before they came over, he told me, “Coop, one of my buddies is fixin to come over, he just got out of jail for selling crack in the trailer park down the street, you know, the one you used to live at.”

My first thought, was, “Glad I got out of there!” Then I quickly realized, that, he was still coming over to where I live now, which is a good football field and a half from the trailer, yep, I’m moving up.  So, as I listen through my open door, to the sound of “Modern Warfare 3” One of our house guests strikes up a conversation that I was not only, not expecting to hear but surprised me with every turn of his sentences. 

Recently Released Crack Dealer: “So today was the 48^th anniversary, of Kennedy’s assassination, or whatever… I watched this thing on the history channel, it was totally an inside job, this guy watching from the street shot him, and no one noticed him until years later.  The government just wanted Kennedy out, too bad they don’t work like they did back then” Me (In my head) “Is this really happening right now?”  None of the other two charectors said anything in response to this.  Then something happened in the game that caught his attention.  “Yeah man, when I built my first computer, I used to play this game all the time.”  What’s the deal with drug users being great with computers, makes you think they are leaving something out of the “Before” part in this ITT Tech success stories.  Soon after this, all three of them went into roommate’s room for five to ten minutes and then came out, high fived, the two of them left, there was a light haze and skunk smell in the air, and roomie went back to the Xbox. Another satisfied customer.  I was off work all day, and it was cold so I had just been messing around on guitar and banjo, and pretty sure while I sat around trying to put chords and words together in a Kristofferson manner, my roommate made a couple hundred dollars, made me second guess my career choice of banjo player country song writer.  Cooper J Nelson: Weed Slinger?? Just Kidding…

How I got to Murfreesboro..?

 When I first arrived in Tennessee, I was with my brother, Elliott.  I was so thankful he was able to take time off work to be able to make the drive with me.  I was not looking forward to the over 2000 mile trip alone, but was prepared for it.  Elliott and I packed up my apartment, moved it into my Mom’s house and put what I could fit in to my small two door Cobalt, and off we went.  The first leg of the trip was the longest, I started the drive, and we didn’t plan on making a full stop, until Oklahoma City, OK.  Any one that knows me won’t be surprised that I managed to mess up the ONE freeway change needed to get from Long Beach to Nashville, but I did just that.  We still made good time though, just ended up further south in New Mexico than planning, before heading back on the right path.  I’m pretty sure at one point we were a stone’s throw from Juarez, Mexico.  After breakfast in Amarillo Texas, and listening to George Strait’s “Amarillo By Morning” a good 38 times, we ended up in Oklahoma City, which had a very disappointing night life.  Who charges cover at a bar when we are the only people in town bar hoping? We left Oklahoma first thing in the morning and charged through Arkansas, crossed the Mississippi River, and stayed a night at a Motel 6 in Memphis.  Elliott looked up a BBQ joint down the street and we decided to walk there at nine o’clock at night.  Cops looked at us like we were crazy, and clearly not from around there, so we pretty much got a police escort the, The Neely’s Home Cookin’ and back to Motel 6, where the light was in fact left on for us.

            Arriving in Nashville was one of the coolest moments of my life, it was a Saturday afternoon, and Country Music was everywhere, as a country fanatic coming from Long Beach CA, I felt like I was in my Mecca.  However, as an aspiring Country Musician, I was a gold fish in the Ocean.  I ended up in Murfreesboro Tennessee, a small college town about thirty miles south of Nashville, home of the Middle Tennessee State Blue Raiders, because of my mom.  My Mom had a friend that she graduated High School with and had reconnected with in the last year or so via Facebook.  I talked to him on the phone a few time, he seemed a bit odd but, how nice was it that he would open his home to me and say I could stay with him for a while once I made it to Tennessee?  The wheels were in motion to stay in Tennessee, so I had a job set up for myself at the Murfreesboro Old Navy.  It seemed to be coming together quiet well.

Larry Nelson (no relation) was also a song writer and guitar play, that was excited to let me stay in his home and write and make music.  Once Elliott and I made it to Larry’s place, the red flags started going of in my head like fireworks.  He lived in a Trailer Park, I have nothing against trailer parks however, this was your stereotypical trailer park.  And Larry was a Harley Davidson, bearded biker, that lived the trailer life.  The trailer park rents by the week, and their turnover is very high, so the fact the Larry had been there since January, and it was now, September, made him trailer park royalty.  It was a two bedroom trailer, consisting of a kitchen and living room, office/music room, and an empty room for storage.  Larry did not sleep often so he had no need for a bed.  The whole trailer wreakt of cigerettes, he smoked at least 2-3 packs a day.  I love beer, and I enjoy to drink from time to time, but in all my time of hanging out at bars, I have never seen someone put down bourbon the way this man did.  He had a little stand next to his ciggerett burned couch, where he kept two bottles of bourbon, a gallon each.  After staying there three days, I realized he finished a gallon a day, and then went on to the next bottle without hesitation.   I was lucky enough to find an apartment building close by, that was fully furnished and rented to college aged kids for pretty cheap.  I had to sign a year lease and it was a nice three bedroom, so I was assigned two roommates, but it got me out of the trailer park and I not only could breath in my new room, but was actually comfortable, which is always important.  Larry is a great man, and I cannot thank him enough for opening up his home to my brother and I for the short time that he did, however I could not stay there, I wish him nothing but the best. 

  

Welcome to Nashville

People often ask me, why I learned to play the banjo, Especially since I learned banjo before I could strum a chord on guitar.  I always reply with, “Because my dad had one.” Which is the truth.  Dad didn’t really play much, but he had a banjo, and eventually I picked it up and wanted to learn how to play it.  So, at 16 my dad signed me up for Banjo lessons.  To this day I wish I took it more serious at a young age and practiced more, but I had to grow into it.  I was in Orchestra in middle school and part of high school, I played the Viola, or at least, I pretended to.  Much like every other class, homework, was not my thing.  Therefore, I didn’t practice out side of class time.  And of course the results reflected that.  But, the banjo, that was something I really wanted to play.  Practice was not boring or work to me, its still not.  It’s not at all easy and it does take time, but it was time I didn’t mind spending. 

           

I absolutely LOVE Country Music, and not just today’s hits and radio stuff, I love the solid Country, old stuff, the stuff people make fun of.  Crying steel guitars, twang, and of course, the plunking of a banjo.  I have been a Service and Training Manager for Old Navy for the last 3 ½ years, it’s not a bad job at all, however it is not how I want to spend my life, as a career retail manager.  Again, nothing wrong with that career, I have friends that do it and have nothing but respect for them, it’s just not what I want.  So at 24, with an Associates Degree in Fire Science, and almost 7 years of retail under my belt, I quit my manager gig and drove 2053 miles East, from Long Beach California and ended up just outside of Nashville Tennessee, in a town called Murfreesboro.  My plan is to pursue my dreams of actually making a living as a musician.  I kept a job at Old Navy, as a part time sales associate, I’m done with being in charge.  I am not nieve about this, I am well aware that they do not hand out record deals at the “Welcome to Nashville” sign.  However, life is an adventure, so take some chances!  I have no kids, or wife, or any one depending on me, except myself, so NOW is the time to live! 

            This blog is about my adventures living down in The South, in Middle Tennessee.  I don’t know if anyone will read this, but if you do I hope you enjoy!  Living in the South is going to be an adventure all on it’s own, I grew up in Seattle, and have lived in Long Beach CA, the last 6 years. I loved growing up in Washington, and have absolutely fallen in love with Southern California, however, I’ve always been Country, and a bit of a hillbilly at heart, so I couldn’t be more excited to actually live in Tennessee!  Here… We…. Go..!