Two Rivers Campground
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Travel Blogs from Nashville
Sunday was a driving day as we migrated north and west to Nashville. We enjoyed catching up with brother Fred and sister in law Sharon as the respective wandering Sandows met up as planned in this campground. Sharon regaled us with a feast as we swapped stories from the road.
Monday was our day to explore Nashville together. Fred and …
... at the Grand Ol' Opry House. What a hoot! There were 4,000 people there. The show is actually a radio show-kind of reminded us of Praire Home Companion Radio Show- a radio show complete with commercials. There were 4 half hour segments-all hosted by different country music stars/singers. The best host was a little 4 and 1/2 foot 91 year old country singer named Little Jimmy Dickens. He is actually a member of the Grand Ol' Opry. He was hilarious-one joke ...
... ourselves accordingly, we will attract others who will treat us the same.
Most of the next day was spent near Belmont University. Bongo Java - a coffee shop in an old ranch home, where you must get a discount if you are a hipster (see my The Woman New York and They Love The Govna entries for more info on hipsters). A couple hours reading and playing guitar in the warm fall Tennessee sunshine. And then sushi with Grace and her ...
... ragged and disheveled; the young boy was decked out in a flannel, spike earrings, lip rings, and he was drawing in an art book (your typical hipster). The homeless man was begging us for change to buy a hotdog from the stand nearby. We scrounged up some coins and spare bills and gave it to him. The boy then said to us, "I've been homeless since I was thirteen years old, do you know what the difference between me and that guy is?" ...
... needs his sleep, and once finished on the phone
catching up on plans and lives with happy Hum-Yai, I unzip and aim a stream of
urine into the bushes. Blackie
missed the memo, however, and, thinking we’re still playing, darts past me,
narrowly missing the worst bath of his life, and we all say goodnight on
awkward terms. I crawl into the
bus, afraid to wake anyone, and in feeling for my sleeping bag I find ...
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