After sleeping from 7 am until noon, we woke up starving, and ready to venture into Music Town.
Those of you who know me understand my relationship with cornbread. Now, when I eat BBQ, I expect it to be accompanied by 2 or 10 slices of freshly made cornbread. So when we walked into Jack’s I was prepared to mow down on some good old fashioned cornbread.
The menu mentioned nothing of cornbread.
We’re in the south.
People eat cornbread for BLD.
This was unacceptable. We had to leave.
Just as I was about to step out the door, I heard a deep bellowing voice, “Where ya’ll going?”
I turned my head to see who appeared to be Al Roker (the original Al Roker).
“We’re looking for cornbread, and I need to feed my addiction,” I said.
“We got cornbread. You don’t need to go nowhere little lady,” he said as he pointed at a chair.
Man, now that’s Southern hospitality.
A heaping amount of pork shoulder, apples, baked beans and of course, cornbread.
After lunch, we walked around downtown a little more.
Squeaked a little history in…
Fort Nashboro. The beginning of Nashville.
A random Parthenon.
For some reason, I pictured Nashville to be similar to a scene of an old Western movie with cowboys walking around everywhere singing country songs.
Best Moment of Nashville:
Chance asking Miss Brown, a sweet little old lady and our hotel concierge, where to find Jack’s BBQ.
Miss Brown (using the cutest southern accent): Why, that’s where all those honky tonks are.
Chance (5 second pause with an awkward look from side to side): Ma’am I’m from the North. What’s a honk tonk?
Miss Brown: “A honky tonk is where you go to have a good time!”