My first full day in Nashville was met with intermittent heavy downpours. After seeing Miami Vice though — and having just been in Miami — perhaps it was fitting that the rain brought out another Tennessee classic: the run and shoot offense. Here’s some action starring my host Ben as we dash from one covered area to the next. Michael Mann would be proud.
Check out the video evidence.
A change of venue, and the nighttime views are of Mr. Moon himself.
A Citgo by the sea.
Sure there is the white sand and the threat of falling coconuts. There are even pillow-shaped clouds and enough Germans and Cubans speaking their languages to their children to feel as if the United States is some distant place. But when the Southernmost point in the continental United States is within walking distance, and Hemingway’s Shangri-La is two doors down, then the mind churns over the Stars and Bars a little bit. In America, in American cities, and even on Key West, there is a black ghetto, hopeless and photogenic, bopping along to its own rhythm like the temperate waters that lap against the sand. In one day it is possible to see flickering waters and the dark streets of this country’s sub-conscious mind.
Last night The Green Parrot resembled the words “southern bar” exactly. There was a blues band from Mississippi laying down the licks deep into the night, and the bartenders poured cold Bud Light into go-cups upon request.