(A NEWCOMER’S PERCEPTION OF NASHVILLE)

After living in several major cities and traveling on three continents the last words I wanted to hear were “Honey, we’re moving to Nashville, Tenn.”   In my mind this was only one step up from a move to Nome, Alaska.  I’ll preface this little story with the fact that I was raised in Virginia for part of my formative years and then I was whisked away by my parents to live in New York City.  Yep, The Big Apple, probably the most cosmopolitan city in the world.  Most New Yorkers consider living anywhere other than a bus or subway ride away from Manhattan to be the hinterlands, you know, “the boonies”.  Now my dear husband, also lovingly known as The Crabby Old Guy, decided to make a career move and take a professorship at Belmont University.  If he were a tad bit, and that’s a big tad bit, younger I could have attributed this decision to a possible mid-life crisis but the only one in full crisis mode seemed to be me.

For days I pondered the effects that this move would have on my life.  You see I was happily residing in Fort Myers, Florida in my cozy Spanish Mediterranean style house with a swimming pool, hot tub and lanai  (that is a back porch in Floridian terminology), and temperatures that are pleasantly balmy throughout the winter months.  Years ago when we moved from the North I had quickly rushed to Goodwill to donate all of my winter wardrobe.  As I bid a fond goodbye to my  long johns and a sweet hello to t-shirts and shorts my life was finally taking  off in a new and exciting direction, one that I had dreamed of for more than half my life.  There were no longer five teenagers living at home, we were in a nice, warm climate and “Crabby” was semi-retired so at long last we were finally able to do some serious traveling and couple bonding. 

Thoughtfully, I recalled my marriage vows but believe me there was no part of the vow that I took that included a move to Nashville, especially at my age.  Was “Crabby” beginning to show signs of senility?  No, the man is definitely a mover and shaker and every time he spoke about the prospect of opening a new College of Pharmacy at Belmont University his eyes lit up while I constantly rolled mine.  Okay, hmmm…Nashville.  I started to make a mental list of the pros and cons regarding this move.  What instantly came to mind was country music, alright that went on the plus side since I have always loved that genre of music.  Next, it was the home of Al Gore, he invented the Internet didn’t he?  So at least I should have Internet access with the rest of the world. Then suddenly the negatives appeared…would this be the city of pick-up trucks, rednecks, and fine dining at Jimmy Bob’s Barbecue Shack and what exactly is life like in the Bible Belt? 

“Crabby” moved down to Nashville in the beginning of September and I prolonged my move as long as I could claiming every issue I could possibly think of which also included the care of my Garfield-wanna-be cat, Simba.  Just how could I take this poor animal to a cold climate when he was so happily ensconced in the warm temperatures of Florida?  Alright, the old boy didn’t buy my stories for a second and soon I was informed that my airline ticket was booked for September 21, like it or not.  I immediately informed him that if the negatives of Nashville outweighed the positives I was going to be out of there in a New York Minute and he would find himself commuting each weekend to Florida.

The day finally arrived when Simba and I boarded our Delta Airlines flight to Nashville and I finally decided to give Nashville a fair shake.  Taking a deep breath I anxiously deplaned, as the flight attendants say.  Waiting for me at the airport with a dozen roses in his hands and a sign that read “WELCOME TO NASHVILLE” was Crabby.  The man was definitely trying to put a smile on a very iffy situation and so far he was doing all the right things.  We soon arrived at our rented house in a lovely neighborhood.  Wunderbar!  No cars on cinderblocks in the front yard, no pick-up trucks with loud screaming rednecks, so far there was no Elvis sightings and if there was a moonshine still anywhere around it must have been camouflaged pretty well.   Still, I was hesitant to give Nashville my seal of approval until I had completely checked out the town and its residents.  I guess you can say I’m a true follower of Doubting Thomas and I had to see for myself all that Nashville had to offer.

Now I’m not going to say that I fell in love with Nashville over night, it sort of snuck up on me without any warning.  Oddly enough it started out in Publix Supermarket when I was wandering around trying to find all of my groceries.  You must have experienced this situation at some point in your life when you’re in a new grocery store and haven’t a clue where anything is located except for the milk and bread which, as everyone knows, is always at the back of the store.  I guess I had a perplexed look on my face at least that’s what I hope people saw and not some demented woman who was making three to four trips up and down each aisle talking to herself.  At least four to five customers stopped and offered to help me find what I was looking for and that was without my asking.  One woman even offered me her own special recipe for a potato soufflé while a very distinguished looking gentleman told me where to go to buy a mouth watering country ham for the holidays. 

Since I was very leery about our move I had convinced Crabby to leave one of our two cars back in Florida so that I would have a vehicle at our home when I returned there for a healthy dose of sunshine. Each morning Crabby would wake up and drive off to Belmont (and no, I didn’t fix him a brown bag lunch) and I was left at home carless.  Always priding myself on being totally independent (raising five children with a husband who traveled all over the world for corporate meetings definitely helped), I pulled out the Yellow Pages and found the telephone number for the Yellow Cab Company so that I could explore Nashville.   The Good Lord must have been smiling on me when he sent a lovely woman named Sandy to be my driver.  Sandy soon became my best source for all that was happening in Nashville and even informed me of places that the locals frequented for good food and entertainment.  Sandy and sometimes Charles, her backup, became my drivers of choice and off we went to discover Nashville. 

It didn’t take me long to realize the arts and entertainment offerings in this truly cosmopolitan city were incredible. 
I had been to many large cities all over the world and yet there was something different in this city that I had not experienced in any other place I had visited or lived in before…it was the people.  If the heart of Nashville is MUSIC the soul of Nashville is definitely the PEOPLE who live here.  It seemed that every place I went there was someone offering me a small kindness maybe not something you notice at first but time after time I realized that the people here really care about each other and it doesn’t take long for a stranger to feel welcome.  Some might say it’s the strong Christian ethic that is instilled in each person, hence the term Bible Belt, but to me it was that plus the old philosophy “do unto others.”  Yes, Nashville is truly one of those rare places where its heart and soul reaches out to anyone who comes to visit or live. 

I must say I came to Nashville with few expectations and I have been joyously overwhelmed by its charm and hospitality.  This story could turn into a book if I thanked each and every person who has made a difference in my life in the short time that I have been here.  However, I would be remiss if I didn’t personally thank the Belmont University community for making us part of their family, Kim Keeler, an amazing lady who is the PR Director at Gaylord’s Resort, Dr Fesmire (a dentist who understands and sweetly copes with my dentist phobia), Sandy and Charles my faithful drivers, and last, but not least, all the wonderful people whose names I never even learned but who taught me it’s the little kindnesses in life that make all the difference.