Category Archives: Nashville

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Mozart and Schermerhorn

If you haven’t been the Schermerhorn Symphony Center, you need to go. Really. YouPiano_stage_lg
need to go. And those of you considering visiting Nashville, this is one place that needs to be on your Must See list (along with the Ryman and Fido; okay, yeah, my taste runs a little toward the eclectic).

The building itself is amazingly beautiful, with its airy, open feel, clean lines and mix of stone and wood. But I think its the acoustics that enchanted me most. Granted, I was sitting in the orchestra section in the middle. Pretty much the best seats to have to begin with — and I have no idea how I managed to score such great seats, seeing as how I got my ticket tonight at the box-office, with the help of my friends who have season tickets (tip to the interested: find someone who has season tickets and have them purchase your ticket for you. They get a big discount on any extra tickets they get. It is sooooo worth it, considering tickets can cost upwards of $80).

Perfect seats aside, the sound was amazing — which is a very important thing to this little Soundchick. I had read in several different reviews that there is no accoustically
bad seat in the hall, and after tonight, I’m inclined to believe it. I could hear everything, even the smallest whispers of sound from any instrument on stage, and none of the dynamic range between pianismo and fortismo got lost in the engineer’s attempt to balance our listening experience. In fact, a few times I wondered if they really had need for someone to man a sound board at all, even though I could see a battery of microphones strung from the ceiling. Was I hearing the symphony through a sound system, or was I actually hearing them "unplugged"? I have no idea.

And the symphony, wow! They are incredible. I’m not a symphony sophistocit, so I cannot rate how our symphony compares with those in other cities. All I can say is that I thought it was beautiful, and I would have been happy to stay there all night listening to them play.

Skim_lgTonight it was Mozart, and Sibelius. I love Mozart; have since I first remember connecting his name to his music. Sibelius I’d never heard of, but for the most part, I liked what I heard. Our conductor for the evening was Anu Tali, whom I found to be a delight to watch. And who shocked me with her youth (she graduated high school in 1991;jeez, I feel old).

The best part of the evening was, in my mind, the Mozart Concerto No. 5 in A major. Soovin Kim was the guest violinist. He was such a joy to watch! You could see his love for the music in every note he played. His face just shone with excitement. He made me smile and enjoy the music all the more just watching him beam as he played his 1709 Stradivarius. If you ever have a chance to see him play, take it; by any means possible, take it.

We ended our evening with sushi at Ru San’s. Oooooo, yum. You have got to try this place! I’m so not a sushi eater — raw fish give me the heebies — but I had veggie rolls with shrimp tempura inside that were absolutely To.Die.For. And the chefs and waiter all have way too much fun! I want me one of those cool t-shirts they all wear, "Got Sushi?" Yes. I am a happy, happy little camper tonight. It was the perfect way to end a perfect evening.

Photos from The Nashville Symphony website.

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Night Sounds

Rain showers rolled through today. Much need rain danced and drenched everything around here. I couldn’t resist taking a few pictures of the flowers on my trees dripping in beauty. I’ll post them whenever I get my film developed.

The rain and clouds cooled the earth and brought temperatures down to a welcome comfortable level. Finally I am able to turn off the a/c and leave my window open to bring in fresh night air.

I love the sounds of Tennessee summer nights. Crickets and bull frogs and other critters create an amazing symphony that soothes my soul more than I can explain.

Is it possible to be born for a particular place? If so, I was born for Tennessee.

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Why Nashville? Why London

It seems I started a fun little trend with my last post. I guess we are all just looking for the place where we truly belong. The place we really fit it, with our true selves, not the people we pretend to be — whether purposefully or not — or the people we wish we were. But who we are, really, under all the masks we’ve learned to wear through pain we’ve experienced in baring the Truth of our souls.

The question that’s dug at my mind as I’ve watched the flurry of comments at Alex & Niza’s place is why London? Or for that matter, why Nashville? Why not where I was, my home, LA, where all my friends and my community and my passions were? Why do I feel compelled to move, and move, and move again?

I could point to the fact that I spent the whole of my childhood doing just that. I moved every two to four years until I was in high school. I think I’m the only one of my siblings to graduate from the same high school I started. I went to four different elementary schools, three different ones in fourth, fifth and sixth grades respectively. Two different junior high/middle schools round out my edumacation — I moved from Northern California to Southern California two months before 8th grade graduation.

My sister and I often joke with each other about how we don’t have a "seven-year itch", we get the "three-to-four-year itch." An itch to move. Not so much move to a different city. Usually a move across town or to a different house will do just as well. When the move doesn’t happen, well, we get itchy. And just like a mosquito bite, we’re not satisfied till we get a good scratchin’ move done.

However, After having spent most of 2001 in one country, most of 2002 and 2003 in another and then the rest of 2003 homeless and carting luggage from one friend’s home to another till I found a place to park, I was ready for a very long stay in one place. My moving itch had been scratched raw.

But God — gotta love God’s buts — But God, in His infinitely confusing and crazy love, had other designs on my life. He made sure I wasn’t content in LA. Oh, I had my friends. I had my cherished home church again. I had my beloved City of Angels and Adventure. But I had no peace. I no longer "belonged". Like a puzzle piece that’s the same color but not the same cut I just didn’t "fit" anymore. And everyone close to me seemed to know it. My Life Group, the God-send of my life, the first time I’d found such an eclectic group of people who really did just fit like family, a Mosaic version of "Cheers" where everyone knew my name, in that soul sense of the phrase, they all knew I was restless in my spirit, that I wasn’t in the right place, though none of them wanted me to go.

All my relationships and yet no "belonging". I thought that was what belonging was all about, relationships?

God moved me to Nashville. Here I struggle with relationships. I’m not used to the Church Belt culture of everyone going to church yet so few being followers of Jesus, or the shallowness of spirituality or interest in spirituality.

Yet I Belong. Every fiber in my being shouts that this place was made for me — or I was made for it. I’m not sure which. Even when things have been screamingly painful, I loved Nashville. I never had a thought of abandoning it. I knew beyond knowing that I belong here.

It was the same with London. A very, very hard year came to a joyful and fulfilling end with my visit to that amazing city of lights. Even when every train I took was delayed and kept me from seeing most of the sites I’d planned, and my umbrella broke into three pieces as I emerged from my first underground stop, leaving me drenched in the constant rain of the day, I still danced under Big Ben’s resounding chimes and shouted praise to my Jesus for such creating such an incredible city. I belonged there. With everything in me I knew it. I belonged there.

I cannot define what it was, exactly, about London. I just felt like I was home. Finally home. It was one of the greatest Christmas gifts God has ever given me. Our time there, His and mine, was magical.

Just like Nashville. Magic. Magical cities. Where I belong. Inextricably, inexplicably, undeniably Belong. I am home.

So why? Why Nashville? Why London? My heart wants to say God created them just for me. Why not? He once told me He created the stars and flung them into space just because He knew I would spend my life staring up at them in awe and wonder.

I know life with Jesus is about more than just belonging. There is a mission He longs for me to accomplish. But I’ve found that mission is a lot easier to live out in the hardest of hard times when I am enchanted with the world around me; when I know I belong there, that I fit in not just in color but in shape.

Does that make sense?

What do you think? Do you Belong in your city?

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Missed Me By That Much

Nashville_lightning I survived nature’s latest temper tantrum in Middle Tennessee, and it was a doozy. Well, for everyone but my neighborhood. We seem to have some sort of bubble over Forest Hills. I watched with rapt attention to all the news reports on all the local — even some nationwide — stations and kept hearing about how bad it was all over Nashville and to our north and south. Then I’d look out the window and see sunshine with scattered clouds. I’d step outside and feel an occasional raindrop, hear an occasional peel of thunder, but otherwise all was still, quiet, peaceful even. Birds singing and everything you’d expect from a beautiful but cloudy day.

At one point WKRN‘s city-cam showed an impending super-cell fast approaching. The weather-casters warned us a tornado had been spotted and those of us in Forest Hills needed to take cover immediately because it was headed straight for us. I stood and watched from my back porch as the tail end of that huge super-cell passed over us, darkening the sky to the north and east as far as I could see. Newscasters on every channel were reporting golf ball sized hail falling outside their studios and throughout Nashville. But sunshine was the only thing that poured over me.

Later, when the tornadoes had done their best in Gallatin, Hendersonville, Goodlettesville, Columbia and beyond, and all the newscasters were reporting that the worst had past and all was calm in Nashville, that’s when all hell seemed to break loose around my home. The wind blew hard against my walls, causing the hard rain to sound like huge bb pellets smacking into my windows, lightning flashed and thunder rolled. The lightning and thunder faded after about an hour and all that was left was the wind and the rain.

I’m so grateful to God I "missed out" on all the crazy weather earlier! My heart aches and grieves for the all those who lost property or loved ones. It was all so unexpected, and so fast. We knew there’d be "severe weather", but all the models I’d seen put the worst of it to the south of us. Certainly I didn’t expect it to slam those in the northern part so terribly. I’m sure they didn’t expect it either.

It did amaze me, however, that as I left my office — a little before 2pm — that everyone around me seemed oblivious to the danger at hand. Everyone seemed out for a Sunday drive, going lazily down the street with not a care in the world. Meanwhile, the am radio station I was listening to was broadcasting constant tornado warnings for Davidson county (our county) and saying a tornado had been spotted on the ground right near the 65. I’m yelling and honking and begging people to move so I can get home before it gets worse.

Yes, I know the warnings were for northern Davidson county, and yes, I know the tornado hit the 65 far north of where I was, but still. It wasn’t that far.

I’ve decided. I like earthquakes far better than tornadoes. There’s no warning with earthquakes. There’s none of this crazy "its coming right for you, take cover now!" weather-caster-driven anxiety that leaves a person in near panic for hours at a time and then exhausted for days afterward. Earthquakes just hit, bang!, and it’s done. No warning. No sirens. No intense newscasters. No changing your daily routine to rush home in time to get to a safe spot. No pre-storm runs on the grocery store as all of Middle Tennessee rushes to buy milk and bread —-what the… is that about anyway???—- You just go about your daily life till it hits.

Yep, you gotta be prepared. You gotta already have your supplies (are you listening Nashville?). You’ve got to already have a plan for meeting up, for getting home, for taking care of business until things normalize a bit. 

And I say, all of that beats this crazy "severe weather alert" weather caster-driven insanity Nashville calls "storm watch". Give me a surprise 6.7 (or 7.1 depending on who’s in power) Northridge quake over an anxiety-ridden tornado-waiting afternoon any day.

For great pictures of the devastation, go here:

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The Good Life

This weekend it snowed. And sleeted. And snowed some more.

The snow stayed. And stayed. And stayed. All weekend long — and well into this morning.  Now its raining. Yeah, it’s washed all the snow away, but it smells great outside. It smells like Spring.

This weekend it never got above freezing. Actually it never got up to freezing. Now its in the 40s and expected to move into the 50s tomorrow.

I can almost feel Spring shifting in her sleep and coming awake. Yippeee!! I got winter and I’ll get spring. It just doesn’t get better than this.

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Nashville Bachelor-Little Brother and the Single Life

No, ABC’s latest bachelor — from Nashville — is not my little brother. But I felt an affinity for him as I watched the Bachelor’s debut tonight, being a home-boy and all, and being a young doc at Vandy. I felt very big sisterly as I watched him roam his new chateau, meeting all these women and picking who would stay.

I suppose I’m showing my age by talking "little" and "young" about an eligible, and obviously handsome, early 30s man. I’d probably find him interesting and engaging if I met him in person. Perhaps even be attracted. I certainly won’t turn down a date invitation from a 33 year-old (should one just happen to come). I’m not an idiot.

But watching Travis on tv, he just struck me as a kid in a candy store: wide-eyed and ready to try everything. And in need of a big sister’s rolling eyes and wise counsel. His choices in who got roses struck me as from a boy who still hasn’t quite grown into a man yet.

Don’t get me wrong, for the most part I liked his choices. I was especially rooting for Sarah from Nashville. But red-haired Sarah? Come on. She’s 23 and acts it. Perhaps even younger. At least the Sarah (is that her name?? Too many Sarahs….) from Canada seemed more mature, and confident in her own skin.

My heart broke, though, for the girl-Doc from Florida. She completely shot herself in the foot talking about how she’s ready to move "into her reproductive stage of life". For a woman who’s got such schooling, she proved she’s really lacking in people smarts. Or at least men-smarts. I mean, really. You don’t just start talking babies on the first date. And, contrary to her convictions, there really are other reasons to marry besides reproducing. There’s companionship and partnership and love and enjoyment and fun. But the poor girl was heart-broken when she didn’t get a rose. To the point of threatening not to ever date again, though I’m sure she’s since reconsidered that choice.

I understand her frustration. Sometimes it seems that men just don’t want the same things we women want. Other times it seems they are just callous, free-wheeling self-centered jerks. Oh, but we love them! We dream of them. We long for one of our own. And then, when we get one, we wonder what we’ve gotten ourselves into.

It had to be rough to be Travis in Paris. No, really! I know you’re laughing, but think about it a moment. 12 driven, hungry women vying for the same one guy. That’s some nasty mojo. And you have to be a woman to truly understand and appreciate the truth of that statement. I truly believe if women were in charge of  war-making, war would be a truly hellish thing. Guys just shoot guns and drop bombs. Women gossip, tell lies wrapped in truth and truth wrapped in lies, betray and back-stab…. all while smiling sweetly and swearing true friendship and loyalty. If this guy managed to come out of this whole experience unscathed by the bloody realities of women-group life, it was nothing less than a miracle.

This is my first experience watching "The Bachelor". Perhaps that’s obvious in my post. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stomach watching the whole thing, but I’m gonna give it a shot, if for no other reason than to root for Doc-Travis, and pray, and cringe over every poor choice, and cheer every good one and then pray some more — even though the whole thing is already over — just like a good big sister should.

Good luck, Doc Travis. You’re gonna need it!

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Oh, Deer!

A deer trotted across the road right in front of me this morning on my way into work.

Don’t worry, I didn’t hit him. I was going slow enough that there was never a chance for collision. But can you believe it???? A deer! And he was so close. And less than a block from my house!

After he crossed the road he kinda look back over his shoulder at me, with this look in his eyes. Not the deer-in-the-headlights look one would expect, but a look of relief and of "thanks for not hitting me." Which is kind of odd, considering he rather trotted across the road instead of running, almost as if he didn’t expect me to hit him. Maybe he saw me turn onto the road and knew I wouldn’t pick up enough speed before I got to him. Maybe he even saw I have a Fix-Or-Repair-Daily car and knew my little Escort didn’t have the speed in him that early.

Either way, I’m glad I didn’t hit him either. I have to confess, I had a little deer-in-the-headlights moment of my own when I saw him dart out. And it wasn’t because I might have been the cause of this beautiful creature becoming the morning’s main course at the roadkill banquet. Sad to say, but my first thought was of how much damage I’ve heard these beautiful animals cause to a car upon collision. I could see my little mangled Escort being carted off to car purgatory by the flat-bed-hearse-for-cars while the cops handed me its little death certificate, "cause of death: deer x-ing."

Oh, dear.

I think I’ll always drive a slowly through my neighborhood now…. I’m sure I can safely say that both deer and Lu are glad our morning encounter turned out like it did. He really was beautiful. Little antlers and all.

I live in the city limits of Nashville, only about 12 or so miles at the most from downtown no less. And I saw a deer less than a block from my house. You would never see that in LA.

I love living in Nashville. This place is so cool!

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Restoring Life

I’ve had one of those blissfully restful weekends. I took long walks around Radner Lake, read quite a bit, cooked some (an amazing and rare thing for me), did a little sorting and discarding in preparation for my move in October, and just generally kicked back.

I spent much time in my own head, thinking through deeply rooted problems and sin in my own life from childhood crap. I needed this time, and need more still, to begin the healing process and make changes in life; changes that will lead to a restoration of Life God meant me to have.

Much of my writing ended up being stuff that’s really only for private consumption. I had big plans to finish all the various drafts of posts I started last week but didn’t have time or energy to finish. But sometimes — well, often times, really — life just doesn’t pan out the way we plan.

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Oh, What A Night


Amazing! That’s all I can think to say. Last night was utterly amazing. And I wasn’t even at the whole event. Man, does Nashville know how to celebrate!

Read this article from the Tennessean to get a glimpse of what 4th of July in Nashville is like.

Julie, Manuel and I didn’t make it to the concerts. We were too busy talking, eating dogs and corn on the cob (grilled to perfection) and toasting our Freedom as Americans with our margaritas and just hangin’ out at their house.

Eventually, though, we made our way downtown with plans to watch the fireworks from somewhere in Riverfront Park. Heh. Silly us. The pedestrian bridge over the river from the coliseum to Riverfront was blocked off and we got there too late to make it across the Shelby Street bridge in time. So we parked ourselves in a marked off area on the coliseum side and watched the amazing light show from there. This picture is close to what my view was — except I was much closer to where the fireworks were being shot off (the bridge you see is the pedestrian bridge I spoke of).

The only downside to our front row view was that the music wasn’t piped across. We couldn’t hear any of the Nashville Symphony’s live soundtrack to the fireworks. Ah, well. I guess you can’t have everything.

Traffic was a crazy wild-thing — so we sat in the back of Manuel’s truck, hangin’ out and talkin’ and listening to great tunes from his stereo until the cars cleared out enough for him for forage a path through the insane Nashville drivers desperate to get their sleeping, cranky, sunburnt kids/selves home to bed.

And not once during the evening did I need a sweater or longsleeve shirt (a staple on most LA July 4th nights). The evening air was balmy, smelled of fresh rain and, once the ringing in my ears quit from the booms of fireworks, alive with the sounds of summer critters singing praises to the God of Freedom and Liberty.

I LOVE living in Nashville!!!!

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.  — Gal 5:1