A couple of my blog postings earlier on this blog have concerned deejays Bill Cody and Charlie Mattos, who do weekday wake-up show "Coffee, Country & Cody" on WSM-AM 650. I've also e-mailed the two, fairly often, and thanked them for the delightful wake-up they provide over the airwaves.
Well, Friday I experienced the show (all but the first hour or so) live in person. The two deejay friends of mine were again at the Ford Theater in the Country Music Hall of Fame. I'd been to these live broadcasts at the Ford twice before (including Bill's fifteenth anniversary with WSM, see third post on 25 April post). But it sure was sweet to be able to stay to the end of the show this time!
You see, dear reader, Bill & Charlie have very engaging interviews and even live performances with various guests during the latter portion of the show. It's no different today, except I get to BE THERE for these. One guest they interview is Stan Hitchcock, who's been heavily involved in Nashville's music industry in a variety of ways, and who's published a book "At the Corner of Memory Land and Music Row". Discussion this morning is about the book, and how certain incidents of Stan's life contributed to the document. He signs two copies of the book for Bill and Charlie.
Then we're entertained by a local band of modified bluegrass persuasion, The Randy Kohrs Band. Randy's up front with acoustic guitar and Dobro, with a young lady to his right on fiddle and banjo picker to his left, and a snare drummer (hence "modified" bluegrass) behind. At the back of the band stands a bass man, with a most fascinating-looking upright bass. The body is white, while the neck and the corners/edges of the body are black. I've never seen such an upright bass! They play some great songs!
Later we're treated to the "Money in a Minute" contest. Two guests from the audience get to sit with Bill and Charlie while the two deejays play a "family Feud" type game, using questions about country music. Charlie answers the first question correctly, then Bill wins the next three points (I'm uncertain about answers, except one which is a chestnut.) Charlie scores one more point, but then time runs out with Bill leading 3-2. So his guest, a lady visiting from Florida, gets to go home $500 richer! How's THAT for a vacation?
The ""Coffee Country & Cody" show concludes in an extended interview with James Burton, 2001 inductee into the Rock And Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, Ohio, but also a guitarist with several country singers. I'm rather impressed with not only his diverse list of performance/recording credits (and Cody may not have listed them all) but also with his tranquil demeanor. You don't associate a "tranquil demeanor" with somebody in R & R, do you dear reader?
Probably the "tops" of my experience this morning is when the show ends. I get my picture taken with my two deejay friends, have Bill autograph a publicity 3 x 5 black & white photo -- Charlie needs to get one of these made! -- and present the two with a photo of yours truly taken at the statue of Chet Atkins at the corner of Fifth Ave. and Union St. just a few blocks north of us. The photo has Chet's statue sitting on a stool picking his electric guitar. I'm sitting on the other stool holding my Yamaha guitar, poised as tho' taking lessons for Mr. Certified Guitar Picker himself. I signed the back with a note thanking the two for providing such great weekday wake-up entertainment and signing off as "avid WSM listener and a would-be C G P.
You know, I do believe that Bill and Charlie and the show "Coffee Country and Cody" weekday mornings on WSM-AM 650 is one of the better things about Music City!
Running account of my impressions of Nashville, Tennessee, a.k.a. "Music City", since my return at the end of July - altho' the blog commences at the beginning of November of A.D. 2008.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Steve McNair
On Thursday, there was a memorial service for former NFL Titans quarterback Steve McNair at a church on the far north side of Nashville-Metro Davidson County. He was then buried in his native Mississippi.
Ever since he was murdered on Independence Day the expanding information about the background to that murder-suicide has gotten more and more sordid. The young woman who shot him and them offed herself was rather clearly his mistress. Why, Steve, why?
And now, with no supporting citation, comes "news" that the young woman shot him, then herself, because she discovered that the just-retired star QB had yet another mistress! However, no reference is given to evidence to support this conclusion. It's just out of the blue and into print (or onto the airwaves).
And so I ask, "Whence this allegation? Did some friend of hers testify that she'd said this in a phone conversation the day before? Did she leave a note to this effect? Or what?"
Therefore, I shall hold to my supposition that the man had come around to realizing that he needed to do the right thing (for Mechelle and the kids, as well as himself) and had told the young lady that their relationship was over. She couldn't handle it and so offed them both.
But whatever the reason for this tragedy, it does not negate that Steve McNair wrote his public name large on this city when it rather unexpectedly became the home an NFL franchise from out of State. It doesn't negate his prowess as QB, nor that he loved Music City and we loved him. It most assuredly doesn't negate the good things he was endeavoring to do for his hometown (much like Dave Robinson of the NBA is doing for his San Antonio).
On the other hand, whatever the reason for this tragedy, it sure did put a dark shadow on Independence Day Ought Nine, here in Nashville! Lord, have mercy. . . . Lord, please give peace and comfort to Steve's grieving widow, children, NFL buds and his Nashville neighbor-fans!
Ever since he was murdered on Independence Day the expanding information about the background to that murder-suicide has gotten more and more sordid. The young woman who shot him and them offed herself was rather clearly his mistress. Why, Steve, why?
And now, with no supporting citation, comes "news" that the young woman shot him, then herself, because she discovered that the just-retired star QB had yet another mistress! However, no reference is given to evidence to support this conclusion. It's just out of the blue and into print (or onto the airwaves).
And so I ask, "Whence this allegation? Did some friend of hers testify that she'd said this in a phone conversation the day before? Did she leave a note to this effect? Or what?"
Therefore, I shall hold to my supposition that the man had come around to realizing that he needed to do the right thing (for Mechelle and the kids, as well as himself) and had told the young lady that their relationship was over. She couldn't handle it and so offed them both.
But whatever the reason for this tragedy, it does not negate that Steve McNair wrote his public name large on this city when it rather unexpectedly became the home an NFL franchise from out of State. It doesn't negate his prowess as QB, nor that he loved Music City and we loved him. It most assuredly doesn't negate the good things he was endeavoring to do for his hometown (much like Dave Robinson of the NBA is doing for his San Antonio).
On the other hand, whatever the reason for this tragedy, it sure did put a dark shadow on Independence Day Ought Nine, here in Nashville! Lord, have mercy. . . . Lord, please give peace and comfort to Steve's grieving widow, children, NFL buds and his Nashville neighbor-fans!
Monday, July 6, 2009
A Holiday darkened by the touch of death
I probably like Independence Day as much as any red-blooded American. Probably I focus on its original meaning and significance more than many citizens. None of this business of having it be little more than an excuse to frolic outdoors or get drunk on 4 July every year! Nosireebob!
But something sets this holiday apart from others, more than simply its national import and its being the anniversary of the birth of these United States. You see, dear reader, more than one Fourth of July has turned into an unanticipated time of sorrow for me, due to a death or deaths that touched me closely.
It began on Independence Day of 1967 or '68, when I was of junior high age in Boise, Idaho. Two little boys lived across the street for us; my Dad called them the "two wild Indians". Which gives you the picture that these two boys were in serious need of Valium or Ritalin (were they available back then). Late on that Independence Day their mother came to our door asking if we had seen them. They were missing! Soon Dad and I were involved in the search for the little fellas, walking streets of our neighborhood and banks of the New York Canal, a huge irrigation ditch that bordered it. Across the canal lay a golf course which in that era was the site of the July Fourth fireworks show for the city. In past years I'd greatly enjoyed the pyrotechnics -- I really am a fan of them! But that Independence Day was quite surreal, as the fireworks flashed overhead and we continued our search. Alas! a day or two later the boys' bodies were found in the canal. Death had struck on Independence Day. . . .
In 1984, a year of all-around sad remembrance, we were living in Crossville, Tennessee, where I was pastoring a Disciples of Christ church and wife Ellen was expecting our second child. But on the First of the month she was still-born. Ellen remained in the hospital for a few days recovering from the cesarean section. So it fell on me to arrange and carry out the burial of our little Becky, who never got the chance even to utter her first cry. Plus see to the care of our son David. I remember that on the holiday itself I took him to nearby Cumberland Mountain State Park, and we played on the playground equipment there. I even sang a couple of songs from "A Homestead Album", a musical in which I was cast, that was being performed that summer at the Cumberland County Playhouse. I sang a joyful song and even danced a lively dance with our son. But my heart was heavy. Death had struck just before Independence Day. . . .
There is an agitation in my memory-bank, that one of the Independence days I spent in San Antonio (A.D. 2002 to 2008) was likewise touched by a significant death. But who was it? At this point I cannot remember, and I most certainly don't fell right now like trying to dredge it up!
And now this! Steve McNair shot four times, twice in the head, twice in the chest, and a young woman at the scene shot once in the head. Police are speaking of a murder-suicide but not confirming it quite yet. I remember better days for McNair and this city that loved him. Especially the better days of the 1999-2000 season, when McNair quarterbacked the NFL Titans to the Super Bowl, and got us within one yard of winning it! I remember vividly to this day, how when the football team left Houston and came to Tennessee, my arms weren't open to warmly welcome them. I'd heard too many ugly things about owner Bud Adams from Houstonians. And so the first couple of years I was against the team. But when they had that stellar season in 1999 and went into the playoffs, with McNair, Frank Wychek, Eddie George and others enthralling Nashville fans, I too chose to consider that THIS was my hometown's team (granted, at the time I lived in nearby Clarksville, but the team IS the Tennessee Titans) and I needed to get with the program and get behind the guys. I came to esteem the names McNair, Wychek, George. . . and one Christian team member whose name escapes me but whose testimony to the priority of his faith OVER the sport still thrills me.
But NOW the great former quarterback is dead. On Sunday, aboard the bus on my way to church, I perused the Tennessean front page and a couple pages inside, about the tragedy. All my memories of my attitude turnaround in '99 awoke, along with my old esteem for McNair, Wychek, George and that Christian fella. It hardly helps that in 2008 upon moving to Nashville I took right up with my enthusiastic support for the Titans. Even tho' McNair had played two years with another NFL team, then last year retired and started up a restaurant near TSU here. And the current team had such a great '08 -- one I was certain would terminate in a Super Bowl victory, until they were beat at home in the first playoff game. I have to confess, that as I read the newspaper there on the bus my eyes teared up. My heart was heavy. Death had struck on Independence Day. . . .
Again. . . .
But something sets this holiday apart from others, more than simply its national import and its being the anniversary of the birth of these United States. You see, dear reader, more than one Fourth of July has turned into an unanticipated time of sorrow for me, due to a death or deaths that touched me closely.
It began on Independence Day of 1967 or '68, when I was of junior high age in Boise, Idaho. Two little boys lived across the street for us; my Dad called them the "two wild Indians". Which gives you the picture that these two boys were in serious need of Valium or Ritalin (were they available back then). Late on that Independence Day their mother came to our door asking if we had seen them. They were missing! Soon Dad and I were involved in the search for the little fellas, walking streets of our neighborhood and banks of the New York Canal, a huge irrigation ditch that bordered it. Across the canal lay a golf course which in that era was the site of the July Fourth fireworks show for the city. In past years I'd greatly enjoyed the pyrotechnics -- I really am a fan of them! But that Independence Day was quite surreal, as the fireworks flashed overhead and we continued our search. Alas! a day or two later the boys' bodies were found in the canal. Death had struck on Independence Day. . . .
In 1984, a year of all-around sad remembrance, we were living in Crossville, Tennessee, where I was pastoring a Disciples of Christ church and wife Ellen was expecting our second child. But on the First of the month she was still-born. Ellen remained in the hospital for a few days recovering from the cesarean section. So it fell on me to arrange and carry out the burial of our little Becky, who never got the chance even to utter her first cry. Plus see to the care of our son David. I remember that on the holiday itself I took him to nearby Cumberland Mountain State Park, and we played on the playground equipment there. I even sang a couple of songs from "A Homestead Album", a musical in which I was cast, that was being performed that summer at the Cumberland County Playhouse. I sang a joyful song and even danced a lively dance with our son. But my heart was heavy. Death had struck just before Independence Day. . . .
There is an agitation in my memory-bank, that one of the Independence days I spent in San Antonio (A.D. 2002 to 2008) was likewise touched by a significant death. But who was it? At this point I cannot remember, and I most certainly don't fell right now like trying to dredge it up!
And now this! Steve McNair shot four times, twice in the head, twice in the chest, and a young woman at the scene shot once in the head. Police are speaking of a murder-suicide but not confirming it quite yet. I remember better days for McNair and this city that loved him. Especially the better days of the 1999-2000 season, when McNair quarterbacked the NFL Titans to the Super Bowl, and got us within one yard of winning it! I remember vividly to this day, how when the football team left Houston and came to Tennessee, my arms weren't open to warmly welcome them. I'd heard too many ugly things about owner Bud Adams from Houstonians. And so the first couple of years I was against the team. But when they had that stellar season in 1999 and went into the playoffs, with McNair, Frank Wychek, Eddie George and others enthralling Nashville fans, I too chose to consider that THIS was my hometown's team (granted, at the time I lived in nearby Clarksville, but the team IS the Tennessee Titans) and I needed to get with the program and get behind the guys. I came to esteem the names McNair, Wychek, George. . . and one Christian team member whose name escapes me but whose testimony to the priority of his faith OVER the sport still thrills me.
But NOW the great former quarterback is dead. On Sunday, aboard the bus on my way to church, I perused the Tennessean front page and a couple pages inside, about the tragedy. All my memories of my attitude turnaround in '99 awoke, along with my old esteem for McNair, Wychek, George and that Christian fella. It hardly helps that in 2008 upon moving to Nashville I took right up with my enthusiastic support for the Titans. Even tho' McNair had played two years with another NFL team, then last year retired and started up a restaurant near TSU here. And the current team had such a great '08 -- one I was certain would terminate in a Super Bowl victory, until they were beat at home in the first playoff game. I have to confess, that as I read the newspaper there on the bus my eyes teared up. My heart was heavy. Death had struck on Independence Day. . . .
Again. . . .
Independence Day Ought Nine, in Nashville
For yours truly the celebration of Independence Day actually began the evening of Wednesday the First of July -- see my previous posting. And it continued the very next morning, on "Coffee, Country & Cody" on WSM-AM 650. Bill Cody chose as his "Cody Classic Song of the Day" one by Moe Bandy, "Americana". It's my favorite Bandy song; I've enjoyed and been touched by it from the first time I heard several years ago. Then the show ended at ten with the climactic song off the "This Is My America" project (which all together is three CDs long): Billy Dean singing, with Nashville Symphony and Fisk Jubilee Singers backing him, "Wave On, Old Glory, Wave On" -- what a way to start celebrating the holiday! And it wasn't even the Fourth yet!
Then came the actual holiday, falling on a Saturday in this Year of Our Lord A.D. 2009. The Tennessean printed that in addition to the "headline" show to take place late in the day at Riverfront Park in downtown Nashville, with country-rock star Wynonna, the Symphony & the biggest area fireworks show, many other festivities would be celebrated, including "In God We Trust" with a choir and other performers in the amphitheater of Bicentennial Mall north of Capitol Hill. And that event, so the paper said, would begin at three in the afternoon. So I chose to go there first and then later to the BIG festivity at the river.
However, plans got changed by unexpected happenings. For one, the local mass transit bus company, Nashville MTA, was very confusing about its schedule for the days around the holiday, and as usual the buses didn't run even in sync with what schedule was finally put out. And then word spread among passengers that former star quarterback for the NFL Titans, Steve McNair, and a woman had been shot dead in downtown Nashville.
Why is it that so often for me Independence Day is a holiday whose joyful festivities get darkened by a death that touches me closely? More on this question later.
Anyhow. . . when I finally got to the amphitheater north of our Capitol after four in the afternoon, I found only a handful of folk, a handful of additional vacant lawn chairs, and one man singing in the stage area. Inquiring at a booth set up behind the seating area, I was told that the actual show would begin in the amphitheater at seven that evening, and the man singing was only rehearsing. However, I was also told that there would be some festivities, including a re-enactment, in the food court of the adjacent Farmers Market. So I hied myself over there, and indeed got quite entertained by such groups as a female dance group (dancing in solo, trio and quintet formations) and a great bluegrass quintet. A man impersonating Thomas Jefferson spoke briefly, and I also saw an Abe Lincoln and a woman dressed colonial style -- was she impersonating Betsy Ross or Martha Washington?
Then the emcee announced that because it was quickly fixing to rain outside, the performances scheduled for outdoors would be moved into the Farmers Market Food Court. He mentioned that it would take a little setting up and adjusting, since the featured choir, the Nashville Choir, was quite large (a few hundred voices). So there was a break while this set-up was done, and then the moved-in outdoor performances began.
As did the downpour. Probably due to the threat of rain and continuing rain the BIG show at the river got shortened, and the fireworks went off well before their scheduled time. I think the booms and flashes caught even the "In God We Trust" organizers off guard. But still, we had a very patriotic songfest. Some numbers were done by the entire choir, some by individuals or small groups either by themselves or backed by the main choir. And we got a few more words of wisdom and historical perspective from Mr. J, as well as from Honest Abe himself. He pointed out that several times during his administration in one of our nation's darkest hours he'd called for a nation-wide day of prayer (and fasting) -- which originated the concept of a National Day of Prayer, observed every First Thursday of May. He also read excerpts from his famous Gettysburg Address.
As at Tusculum Hills Baptist Church on Wednesday evening, we military veterans got honored at a certain point of the program. And as during that earlier event, I was quite touched when we vets all stood and were applauded. (I feel embarrassed at such accolades, since I served in peacetime.) I was even more touched when one of the last songs of the evening was "God Bless America". In my memory's eye I again saw the "Lone Star Spectacular" show at Fiesta Texas theme park, where the penultimate song is this very song, sung twice (but it's not Kate Smith's famous recording).
Somehow I managed to keep my mind off the dark local news of earlier in the day. For the most part; it did creep into my thinking a couple of times, and prompted memories of other tragic Fourths of years past. But, thank God, this didn't happen much or dominantly!
Still, this was a different Independence Day here in Nashville, from the one I'd anticipated. Different, but I've learned, dear reader, the wisdom of "Going with the flow"!
Oh, and I did have one final act of observing the holiday. My San Antonio best friend, Joe Tovar, had given me a necktie with an "Old Glory" motif, and I wore it on Sunday the Fifth, the day following and the Sunday nearest the holiday. It still graced my neck when I attended evening worship at Tusculum Hills church, where I'd gone for the Wednesday God-&-Country type program ending in the Gold city concert. A gentleman in the pew in front of me complimented me on the tie, so he walked out with it, not me.
Then came the actual holiday, falling on a Saturday in this Year of Our Lord A.D. 2009. The Tennessean printed that in addition to the "headline" show to take place late in the day at Riverfront Park in downtown Nashville, with country-rock star Wynonna, the Symphony & the biggest area fireworks show, many other festivities would be celebrated, including "In God We Trust" with a choir and other performers in the amphitheater of Bicentennial Mall north of Capitol Hill. And that event, so the paper said, would begin at three in the afternoon. So I chose to go there first and then later to the BIG festivity at the river.
However, plans got changed by unexpected happenings. For one, the local mass transit bus company, Nashville MTA, was very confusing about its schedule for the days around the holiday, and as usual the buses didn't run even in sync with what schedule was finally put out. And then word spread among passengers that former star quarterback for the NFL Titans, Steve McNair, and a woman had been shot dead in downtown Nashville.
Why is it that so often for me Independence Day is a holiday whose joyful festivities get darkened by a death that touches me closely? More on this question later.
Anyhow. . . when I finally got to the amphitheater north of our Capitol after four in the afternoon, I found only a handful of folk, a handful of additional vacant lawn chairs, and one man singing in the stage area. Inquiring at a booth set up behind the seating area, I was told that the actual show would begin in the amphitheater at seven that evening, and the man singing was only rehearsing. However, I was also told that there would be some festivities, including a re-enactment, in the food court of the adjacent Farmers Market. So I hied myself over there, and indeed got quite entertained by such groups as a female dance group (dancing in solo, trio and quintet formations) and a great bluegrass quintet. A man impersonating Thomas Jefferson spoke briefly, and I also saw an Abe Lincoln and a woman dressed colonial style -- was she impersonating Betsy Ross or Martha Washington?
Then the emcee announced that because it was quickly fixing to rain outside, the performances scheduled for outdoors would be moved into the Farmers Market Food Court. He mentioned that it would take a little setting up and adjusting, since the featured choir, the Nashville Choir, was quite large (a few hundred voices). So there was a break while this set-up was done, and then the moved-in outdoor performances began.
As did the downpour. Probably due to the threat of rain and continuing rain the BIG show at the river got shortened, and the fireworks went off well before their scheduled time. I think the booms and flashes caught even the "In God We Trust" organizers off guard. But still, we had a very patriotic songfest. Some numbers were done by the entire choir, some by individuals or small groups either by themselves or backed by the main choir. And we got a few more words of wisdom and historical perspective from Mr. J, as well as from Honest Abe himself. He pointed out that several times during his administration in one of our nation's darkest hours he'd called for a nation-wide day of prayer (and fasting) -- which originated the concept of a National Day of Prayer, observed every First Thursday of May. He also read excerpts from his famous Gettysburg Address.
As at Tusculum Hills Baptist Church on Wednesday evening, we military veterans got honored at a certain point of the program. And as during that earlier event, I was quite touched when we vets all stood and were applauded. (I feel embarrassed at such accolades, since I served in peacetime.) I was even more touched when one of the last songs of the evening was "God Bless America". In my memory's eye I again saw the "Lone Star Spectacular" show at Fiesta Texas theme park, where the penultimate song is this very song, sung twice (but it's not Kate Smith's famous recording).
Somehow I managed to keep my mind off the dark local news of earlier in the day. For the most part; it did creep into my thinking a couple of times, and prompted memories of other tragic Fourths of years past. But, thank God, this didn't happen much or dominantly!
Still, this was a different Independence Day here in Nashville, from the one I'd anticipated. Different, but I've learned, dear reader, the wisdom of "Going with the flow"!
Oh, and I did have one final act of observing the holiday. My San Antonio best friend, Joe Tovar, had given me a necktie with an "Old Glory" motif, and I wore it on Sunday the Fifth, the day following and the Sunday nearest the holiday. It still graced my neck when I attended evening worship at Tusculum Hills church, where I'd gone for the Wednesday God-&-Country type program ending in the Gold city concert. A gentleman in the pew in front of me complimented me on the tie, so he walked out with it, not me.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Gold City l.i.c. in Music City!
For eleven months Nashville has been again my camping spot on life's journey. Yet even tho' it's as much a performance and recording center for Southern Gospel music as it is for country and other genres, I 'd yet to attend a Southern Gospel concert during this current Music City sojourn. My ears had yet to get blessed by the sounds of in-the-flesh four-part harmony glorifying God. This all changed last evening.
Tusculum Hills Baptist Church, well out on Nolensville Road on the south side, held a God-and-Country or Independence-Holiday celebration, which included a covered-dish supper. Following the blessing of our bellies, our spirits got quadruple-blessed, as Gold City sang a concert in the church's auditorium (sanctuary).
For decades Gold City has been one of the premier groups in tradition all-male gospel quartets. Last time I saw Gold City live in concert was almost a decade ago, in Clarksville. All the guys last evening came to the quartet since then. In fact the Tenor, Chris Cooper, was singing his first concert with Gold City! Bass singer Aaron McCune was the smallest of the group; it was weird to hear such a powerful bass voice coming from a shrimp! Gold City's former Bass & manager, Tim Riley, was NOT the shortest member of the previous Gold City I'd seen! Baritone singer for the quartet is Tim's son, Daniel Riley.
Nevertheless, the four I heard last evening still sing the unique Gold City sound. They're still carrying on ministry thru music, combining older Gold City standards with recently-recorded new songs that reflect that same style.
The concert at Tusculum Hills included, for example, such great G.C. classics of yore as "I'm Not Giving Up" and "When I Get Carried Away". Off their most recent album they sang "I Cast My Bread Upon the Waters" with which the concert opened, "For the Sake of My Heart" featuring that new Tenor, and "Ain't It Crazy What Children Believe". Toward the end the quartet did their signature song, the powerful "Midnight Cry".
Probably "Midnight Cry" is generally the group's concluding song in a concert, but since the theme of the evening at Tusculum Hills was patriotism, Gold City also did a new patriotic number "I Love This Land" after having all us veterans stand to be recognized. The song was such a powerful expression of faith and patriotism that the crowd was on its feet before the quartet hit the final note. Then as we began to resume our seats, Daniel urged us to remain standing and to join them in singing a medley of patriotic songs. These included the first verse of "America the Beautiful" and "God Bless America". As we sang the latter I contemplated the "Lone Star Spectacular" laser-fireworks show back in Fiesta Texas theme park in San Antonio; that park-closing-for-the-nite show had that song at the end, just before the finale featuring "Deep in the Heart of Texas". And ever time I'd watch the show I''d be singing along on "God Bless America" while my head leaked. It was threatening to leak again during this concert.
Well, it may have taken yours truly a overly-long time to get to a Southern Gospel concert here in Music City. But THIS one was worth the wait! As with so many Gospel concerts in the past, at this one I sensed a taste of what Heaven will be like!
Tusculum Hills Baptist Church, well out on Nolensville Road on the south side, held a God-and-Country or Independence-Holiday celebration, which included a covered-dish supper. Following the blessing of our bellies, our spirits got quadruple-blessed, as Gold City sang a concert in the church's auditorium (sanctuary).
For decades Gold City has been one of the premier groups in tradition all-male gospel quartets. Last time I saw Gold City live in concert was almost a decade ago, in Clarksville. All the guys last evening came to the quartet since then. In fact the Tenor, Chris Cooper, was singing his first concert with Gold City! Bass singer Aaron McCune was the smallest of the group; it was weird to hear such a powerful bass voice coming from a shrimp! Gold City's former Bass & manager, Tim Riley, was NOT the shortest member of the previous Gold City I'd seen! Baritone singer for the quartet is Tim's son, Daniel Riley.
Nevertheless, the four I heard last evening still sing the unique Gold City sound. They're still carrying on ministry thru music, combining older Gold City standards with recently-recorded new songs that reflect that same style.
The concert at Tusculum Hills included, for example, such great G.C. classics of yore as "I'm Not Giving Up" and "When I Get Carried Away". Off their most recent album they sang "I Cast My Bread Upon the Waters" with which the concert opened, "For the Sake of My Heart" featuring that new Tenor, and "Ain't It Crazy What Children Believe". Toward the end the quartet did their signature song, the powerful "Midnight Cry".
Probably "Midnight Cry" is generally the group's concluding song in a concert, but since the theme of the evening at Tusculum Hills was patriotism, Gold City also did a new patriotic number "I Love This Land" after having all us veterans stand to be recognized. The song was such a powerful expression of faith and patriotism that the crowd was on its feet before the quartet hit the final note. Then as we began to resume our seats, Daniel urged us to remain standing and to join them in singing a medley of patriotic songs. These included the first verse of "America the Beautiful" and "God Bless America". As we sang the latter I contemplated the "Lone Star Spectacular" laser-fireworks show back in Fiesta Texas theme park in San Antonio; that park-closing-for-the-nite show had that song at the end, just before the finale featuring "Deep in the Heart of Texas". And ever time I'd watch the show I''d be singing along on "God Bless America" while my head leaked. It was threatening to leak again during this concert.
Well, it may have taken yours truly a overly-long time to get to a Southern Gospel concert here in Music City. But THIS one was worth the wait! As with so many Gospel concerts in the past, at this one I sensed a taste of what Heaven will be like!
Monday, June 22, 2009
"How Can I Keep from Singing". . .
. . .about "Love Without End, Amen!"
These two songs graced Worship yesterday at Eastwood Christian Church (Disciples). It was Fathers Day, of course, and when I first walked into the building one of the first persons I saw was Pastor Jay, who was wearing a very catchy necktie. It had words like "Dad" and "Father" all over it in various colors and type fonts. He told me it was an earlier Fathers Day gift -- and he'd almost forgotten to wear it!
In addition to being Fathers Day, this was the final Sunday the Eastwood Choir would sing an anthem before taking a summer break. And our Anthem today was "How Can I Keep from Singing". This is one of the best of the Anthems we've sung since I joined the Choir last Fall. We began with the women's voices, at piano volume, then added lower voices and crescendoed as we affirmed in song the grace and glory of our God, which is why we cannot keep from singing! Even in the face of this life's difficulties, how can I keep from singing to the Lord who walks thru everything with me?
Later I sang "Love Without End, Amen", a song written by Aaron Barker, which George Strait recorded and released as one of his hit country songs in 1990 or '91. From the first time I heard it on the radio it's been not only my favorite G.S. song but my favorite country hit of all time!
The very first Fathers Day following the song's release on radio I sang it at Donelson Christian Church (Disciples), a few miles east of my current church home at Eastwood CC(DC). I accompanied myself on my Yamaha acoustic guitar. Back in those years, the Tennessean newspaper here would run lyrics and chords for currently Top Ten country songs. Thus, I'd acquired the chords for the song. I've sung and played it in church on subsequent Fathers Days plus at other times so much since then that I have the song memorized.
Had my picture took on this first day of Summer --- and it felt like summer here in Music City! Nevertheless, I was wearing my brown suit, a green shirt and a necktie to have fellow church member Bill Ivie take my camera and photograph me with Chet Atkins. No, not the real, flesh-&-blood Chet; he's been dead a few years now. But at Fourth Avenue and Union downtown is a life-size statue of Chet with guitar, sitting on a stool with an unoccupied stool beside him. Recently I heard this explained as being the seat for the next CGP or Certified Guitar Picker. I've seen many folks sit there to get the picture taken with the legendary guitarist, and early on after my return to Nashville I'd determined that I must get mine taken, too. So today was the day!
Thank you, Bill, for doing me the honors!
These two songs graced Worship yesterday at Eastwood Christian Church (Disciples). It was Fathers Day, of course, and when I first walked into the building one of the first persons I saw was Pastor Jay, who was wearing a very catchy necktie. It had words like "Dad" and "Father" all over it in various colors and type fonts. He told me it was an earlier Fathers Day gift -- and he'd almost forgotten to wear it!
In addition to being Fathers Day, this was the final Sunday the Eastwood Choir would sing an anthem before taking a summer break. And our Anthem today was "How Can I Keep from Singing". This is one of the best of the Anthems we've sung since I joined the Choir last Fall. We began with the women's voices, at piano volume, then added lower voices and crescendoed as we affirmed in song the grace and glory of our God, which is why we cannot keep from singing! Even in the face of this life's difficulties, how can I keep from singing to the Lord who walks thru everything with me?
Later I sang "Love Without End, Amen", a song written by Aaron Barker, which George Strait recorded and released as one of his hit country songs in 1990 or '91. From the first time I heard it on the radio it's been not only my favorite G.S. song but my favorite country hit of all time!
The very first Fathers Day following the song's release on radio I sang it at Donelson Christian Church (Disciples), a few miles east of my current church home at Eastwood CC(DC). I accompanied myself on my Yamaha acoustic guitar. Back in those years, the Tennessean newspaper here would run lyrics and chords for currently Top Ten country songs. Thus, I'd acquired the chords for the song. I've sung and played it in church on subsequent Fathers Days plus at other times so much since then that I have the song memorized.
Had my picture took on this first day of Summer --- and it felt like summer here in Music City! Nevertheless, I was wearing my brown suit, a green shirt and a necktie to have fellow church member Bill Ivie take my camera and photograph me with Chet Atkins. No, not the real, flesh-&-blood Chet; he's been dead a few years now. But at Fourth Avenue and Union downtown is a life-size statue of Chet with guitar, sitting on a stool with an unoccupied stool beside him. Recently I heard this explained as being the seat for the next CGP or Certified Guitar Picker. I've seen many folks sit there to get the picture taken with the legendary guitarist, and early on after my return to Nashville I'd determined that I must get mine taken, too. So today was the day!
Thank you, Bill, for doing me the honors!
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Fan Fair 2009 -- also, Bonnaroo
This past weekend was a HUGE weekend for Nashville and for music in Middle Tennessee. Actually, we're talking about four days here, from Thursday thru Sunday, 11 to 14 June. For one, it was the annual Country Music Fan Fair, now officially titled the CMA Music Festival. This shindig is for Nashville sort of what Fiesta is for San Antonio, Texas. A couple hours drive to the southeast of the city, near Manchester, a much younger music event called Bonnaroo sounded forth.
Unlike San Antonio's Fiesta which I attended every year that I lived in central or south Texas, Fan Fair had never seen me 'til this year. During my earlier residence the event, founded in 1972 (same year as Opryland Park), took place at the State Fairgrounds south of downtown. And native Nashvillians tended to despise it, even more than some native San Antonians despise Fiesta (and they are FEW).
When I arrived back here almost a year ago I soon learned about the name change -- but lots of folks and even the Web still call it "Fan Fair" -- and that it had moved to downtown. The big-name country star concerts are in the NFL Titans' stadium, once called Adelphia Colosseum and now LP Field. But I heard on WSM-AM 650 that most other events and performances, across the Cumberland River inside actual downtown, would be free. Dear reader, my ears always are listening for and my eyes looking for, news about freebies! I was delighted to know about this, and that one of the free venues, a temporary stage outside the Sommet Center, would host Rhonda Vincent on Friday.
But already on Thursday the Eleventh I imbibed in the festival. Bill Cody announced on his WSM morning show that he and Charlie Mattos would be broadcasting live in mid-day from the famous Ernest Tubb Record Shop on Lower Broad near the Ryman. So after I got off work just before noon I hied myself down to downtown and the said store. And yes, there were my two deejay friends! Their guest at the moment was Jeff Cook of the former country-rock group Alabama. It was fun to be present for the light-hearted interview! Outside, I noticed that Lower Broad had the look and feel of many parts of San Antonio during Fiesta. Sort of a "block party" gone wild. Or maybe a better adjective is "gone electric", in the sense that there was an "electricity" of celebration and of "this is where it's at!"
That evening it rained on the party, or its biggest venue. Reba McEntire, who earlier showed up at Fan Fair for autographing for the first time in several years, and another artist got to perform as scheduled. Then the sky opened up over Nashville in a violent thunderstorm, and the stadium had to be evacuated for three hours. Then the concert resumed where it had left off, and the final artist on the list knocked off at two in the morning!
Friday turned out to be similar for yours truly. Late in my shift I was tasked to do an ASAP prescription delivery to Thompson Station, a village well south of Music City. This gave me a couple hours extra on the clock for pay purposes, but also delayed my arrival at the Sommet. When I got there I was told that, yes, Rhonda Vincent had already done her performance. I consoled myself, what little consolation anything would have been for missing my favorite lady singer, by going up to the back side of Ryman Auditorium, where Bill Cody and singer Steve Wariner were conducting a charity auction of country music stars' guitars. While I was there, they displayed and opened bidding on Vince Gill's contribution. The back side of his guitar's body was covered in green felt and otherwise made to look like a golf course. Vince is more fanatic about golfing than he is about doing country music, as his guitar attests!
Later, Friday evening I planned to go to bed early, since I'd put in a full, split-shift work day and faced another several hours of work on Saturday. But as usual I got engrossed in reading and still hadn't given up the book for the sheets at ten. And shortly after ten a long series of "booms" reverberated thru the night sky. Before I even ascertained the direction whence these explosions came I knew they were fireworks set off at the end of Friday evening's big-name concert at LP Field. It was very similar to last autumn, when the Titans would win at home and up would go the firecrackers from the stadium.
As I stated at the start of this post, Fan Fair is Fiesta for Nashville. And being a celebration of country music, with some other genres included to a measure, the simile is apt, I'd say!
While Fan Fair was going on here in Music City for the 37th time, a Tennessee version of the famous 1960s rock concert Woodstock was ensuing a couple hours drive southeast in the fields and meadows outside Manchester. This was the seventh edition of Bonnaroo. I'd never heard of the out-in-the-country rock concert until last year. At that time I had flown into the Nashville airport on a brief preliminary visit to the Volunteer State, and there were signs all over the air terminal about this "Bonnaroo". When I enquired about it, I was given a description of it that evoked memories of what I'd read of Woodstock, and also what I remembered from my alma mater's version of that iconic rock concert, Blue Mountain at the University of Idaho. Shall we say that I "outgrew" rock concerts before I'd even graduated from the U of I? It really didn't take much of the weird "blue haze" (i.e, smoke wafting around from thousands of marijuana joints) of Blue Mountain to mature me out of such shindigs! Thus you can safely bet that I'll never take IH 24 down to Cannon County for Bonnaroo.
It is interesting that THIS year the two music festivals occupied the same weekend in June! I suppose that if you're in a family where some members love country music and the others much prefer rock, the family could split up and the rubes do Nashville while the rockers do Manchester!
Unlike San Antonio's Fiesta which I attended every year that I lived in central or south Texas, Fan Fair had never seen me 'til this year. During my earlier residence the event, founded in 1972 (same year as Opryland Park), took place at the State Fairgrounds south of downtown. And native Nashvillians tended to despise it, even more than some native San Antonians despise Fiesta (and they are FEW).
When I arrived back here almost a year ago I soon learned about the name change -- but lots of folks and even the Web still call it "Fan Fair" -- and that it had moved to downtown. The big-name country star concerts are in the NFL Titans' stadium, once called Adelphia Colosseum and now LP Field. But I heard on WSM-AM 650 that most other events and performances, across the Cumberland River inside actual downtown, would be free. Dear reader, my ears always are listening for and my eyes looking for, news about freebies! I was delighted to know about this, and that one of the free venues, a temporary stage outside the Sommet Center, would host Rhonda Vincent on Friday.
But already on Thursday the Eleventh I imbibed in the festival. Bill Cody announced on his WSM morning show that he and Charlie Mattos would be broadcasting live in mid-day from the famous Ernest Tubb Record Shop on Lower Broad near the Ryman. So after I got off work just before noon I hied myself down to downtown and the said store. And yes, there were my two deejay friends! Their guest at the moment was Jeff Cook of the former country-rock group Alabama. It was fun to be present for the light-hearted interview! Outside, I noticed that Lower Broad had the look and feel of many parts of San Antonio during Fiesta. Sort of a "block party" gone wild. Or maybe a better adjective is "gone electric", in the sense that there was an "electricity" of celebration and of "this is where it's at!"
That evening it rained on the party, or its biggest venue. Reba McEntire, who earlier showed up at Fan Fair for autographing for the first time in several years, and another artist got to perform as scheduled. Then the sky opened up over Nashville in a violent thunderstorm, and the stadium had to be evacuated for three hours. Then the concert resumed where it had left off, and the final artist on the list knocked off at two in the morning!
Friday turned out to be similar for yours truly. Late in my shift I was tasked to do an ASAP prescription delivery to Thompson Station, a village well south of Music City. This gave me a couple hours extra on the clock for pay purposes, but also delayed my arrival at the Sommet. When I got there I was told that, yes, Rhonda Vincent had already done her performance. I consoled myself, what little consolation anything would have been for missing my favorite lady singer, by going up to the back side of Ryman Auditorium, where Bill Cody and singer Steve Wariner were conducting a charity auction of country music stars' guitars. While I was there, they displayed and opened bidding on Vince Gill's contribution. The back side of his guitar's body was covered in green felt and otherwise made to look like a golf course. Vince is more fanatic about golfing than he is about doing country music, as his guitar attests!
Later, Friday evening I planned to go to bed early, since I'd put in a full, split-shift work day and faced another several hours of work on Saturday. But as usual I got engrossed in reading and still hadn't given up the book for the sheets at ten. And shortly after ten a long series of "booms" reverberated thru the night sky. Before I even ascertained the direction whence these explosions came I knew they were fireworks set off at the end of Friday evening's big-name concert at LP Field. It was very similar to last autumn, when the Titans would win at home and up would go the firecrackers from the stadium.
As I stated at the start of this post, Fan Fair is Fiesta for Nashville. And being a celebration of country music, with some other genres included to a measure, the simile is apt, I'd say!
While Fan Fair was going on here in Music City for the 37th time, a Tennessee version of the famous 1960s rock concert Woodstock was ensuing a couple hours drive southeast in the fields and meadows outside Manchester. This was the seventh edition of Bonnaroo. I'd never heard of the out-in-the-country rock concert until last year. At that time I had flown into the Nashville airport on a brief preliminary visit to the Volunteer State, and there were signs all over the air terminal about this "Bonnaroo". When I enquired about it, I was given a description of it that evoked memories of what I'd read of Woodstock, and also what I remembered from my alma mater's version of that iconic rock concert, Blue Mountain at the University of Idaho. Shall we say that I "outgrew" rock concerts before I'd even graduated from the U of I? It really didn't take much of the weird "blue haze" (i.e, smoke wafting around from thousands of marijuana joints) of Blue Mountain to mature me out of such shindigs! Thus you can safely bet that I'll never take IH 24 down to Cannon County for Bonnaroo.
It is interesting that THIS year the two music festivals occupied the same weekend in June! I suppose that if you're in a family where some members love country music and the others much prefer rock, the family could split up and the rubes do Nashville while the rockers do Manchester!
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