Category: bravery

Self-Care, Nashville Style

From the time I was a little girl, I was listening to some sort of music somewhere. My dad shared his love of rock, country and bluegrass with us kids by taking us to bluegrass festivals and shows in Lancaster and other local places; we were raised to love music and to appreciate the chance to see it live. (With the number of Spotify playlists my siblings and I share on a regular basis, you can say that love is alive and well!) Dad even rocked me as a baby in a rocking chair while he converted all his records to cassette tapes. Don’t judge – I know that makes me old!

Saturday nights in our house consisted of evening baths, my mom setting me and my sister’s hair in foam rollers for church the next day, and the Grand Ole Opry on TV. We watched Little Jimmie Dickens tell jokes with a big smile on his face, Patty Loveless belt out Kentucky ballads and scores of others sing from Nashville every Saturday night.

We were taught the history of country music and how the Ryman Auditorium, “The Mother Church”, was one of the most respected and revered musical venues in the country. Dad loved to play shows from the Ryman and even though the Opry wasn’t played there anymore, we watched many events recorded from that stage. So, you can understand the Ryman was a big deal to us.

Fast forward thirtyish years….

Moving to a new state and town is exciting, scary and kinda weird. You start a new job and your new coworkers are basically the only people you know. Literally. So, you make start to get to know people and make friends and go home to….well, yourself. Then you gather up your courage to try something new and start meeting people in the area. Showing up to things and making acquaintances…hoping that some of them will turn into friends. And – get this – some do! And it’s really awesome. But – you’re still in newish friend zone, so you don’t feel comfortable with asking them to go just anywhere yet.

I’m supremely lucky in that I had a friend in CO (here’s to you April!) who made me feel not all alone there and one I hadn’t met in person but had known for years here in Tennessee. I’m pretty sure Nicole was sent to make sure I didn’t have a mental breakdown those first few weeks and has quickly become one of the best people I have ever known. She is hilarious, kind to everyone and this woman has taken care of me from almost the day I hit Nashville. She’s also a classic dork like me who loves memes and never judges when I feel like I might get emotional. Oh, and she’s also a hockey fan – so, legit awesome all around.

Anywho…..Nicole took me to a few Preds games and I was surprised to find that the Bridgestone Arena is literally across the street from the Ryman and that both of them are gateways to the craziness of the honky tonks of lower Broadway. That corner is crowded, loud, crazy at all different times and just utterly fascinating. She showed me places to park, eat and people watch – and promised we’d get to the Ryman one day.

If you guys were friends with me during the “Concert Kim” phase, you know I love going to see live music and am usually checking to see who’s gonna be where and when, and if I can go see them. So naturally, I signed up for a bunch of email lists in Nashville and am starting to see artists here in town. And I know it’s not a big surprise, but there’s a lot of good music here. All over.

One day I got an email about upcoming shows at the Ryman and I saw The SteelDrivers were going to be in town on a random Thursday night. They’re a bluegrass band that have been around for a long time and used to have the Chris Stapleton as their front man. Yep. Stapleton. The guys at work in Denver introduced them to me and I’ve been a fan since I heard them belting out “Blue Side Of The Mountain” in the shop. I listened to them in repeat for weeks and “Where Rainbows Never Die” was my number one listened song on Spotify in 2020. By a landslide. It’s a freaking awesome song with a beautiful intro. Listen to it sometime.

I did something crazy and bought myself a ticket. So I went. All by myself. Parked in the garage Nicole showed me and headed to the Assembly Food Hall for dinner (which she also introduced me to) and got to watch some live music there as well. All the while thinking that, in just an hour or so, I was going to walk into the Ryman for the first time. It was weird – like I had some kind of uncanny awareness that something I had looked forward to for a long time was gonna happen. It was almost like I was scared to mess it up. As I said, weird.

An hour before show time, I walked across the street and didn’t even know how to get in. It was kinda funny – the doors face Broadway but you don’t actually go in there. There’s a path around the back of the building that winds through some statues of famous stars – including Bill Monroe – before entering into a courtyard that filters you into the building.

You guys – the AMOUNT of old people milling around that courtyard carrying stadium seats, lawn chair cushions and blankets to sit on cracked me the hell up! I knew the Ryman had literal church pews to sit on, but for some reason I wasn’t expecting this. I even saw one elderly lady push people out of her way with her cane. I’m sitting there cracking up with a crazy grin on my face. I seriously hope I’m that awesome when I’m that old.

Then I walked in. And felt a certain kind of way. Like I could feel this was a big deal. I was finally in there! There are stained glass windows, pews and a really cool staircase. I walked up those steps looking at the windows and just breathed “I’m here”. It was so surreal. It was just a building but it was like you could feel, smell and taste the history there. It was one of the coolest experiences I’ve ever had.

I walked down and sat in my pew (so cool!) and got ready for the show to start. Bill Cody, the guy that MC’s the Opry came out and welcomed us all there. The sound of his voice practically made me tear up – it was just like it was all those times we watched him on TV as kids. So freaking cool!

Troubadour Blue came out as the openers and those kids brought the house down. Their energy, crazy harmonies and musical genius wowed the whole crowd. These guys are GOOD. Really good. And their songs are lyrically entertaining. At one point during their set, the lead singer says to us “I know we’re probably not the ones you came to see and some of you may have been here before, but this will forever be the first time we play the Ryman”. And he choked up. We gave them a standing ovation. And my eyes were leaking a little bit. They were incredible. I follow their Instagram and they are still riding high on that emotion and it’s been weeks at this point. I wanted to find that guy and tell him I had no idea I was going to see them play, but the opening notes to their song was the first ones I would ever hear live at the Ryman. I’m still getting goosebumps.

Then, The SteelDrivers walked onstage and proceeded to blow us away for the next couple hours. They were so good – they have great harmonies, they’re all good musicians and I pretty much fell in love with them all over again. And their latest lead singer is simply a gorgeous man – just throwing that out there. They played twenty songs and I sang along with almost every single one. I was in my happy place watching this band play songs that had come to mean so much to me – and it was in the Ryman! It was incredible.

Oh Mr. Hot Stuff also told us at one point that it was his first time at the Ryman and we gave him a standing ovation as well. He got so emotional he picked up a towel to dry his face. It was cool. Then Tammy Rogers (one of the original members) thanked us for making it special for him and asked if any of us were there for the first time. A few of us raised our hands and everyone applauded. It was pretty cool. I also felt a certain kinda way about that moment.

They played my three favorite songs at the end of the night (of course they were last- they were the best!) and did “Where Rainbow Never Die” as the encore. The second those familiar notes of the intro were played, I couldn’t help it anymore. I gave up. The emotion of the night finally got to me and tears ran down my face as I tried to video it and bask in the making of that memory all at the same time. I will never forget that moment. It was emotional and sweet and all mine and it was glorious.

After they finished the song, they took a bow, we applauded them and the house lights came up. I followed the crowd down the stairwell and came out in the street to the neon lights of Broadway in the hot and muggy summer night. And walking back to the car, I had the biggest grin on my face. I looked up to the sky and just said “thank you”. I was supremely glad I went and so very glad I went by myself. I didn’t have to worry about someone else not liking them, or wanting to leave early or thinking that me fangirling over a freaking wonderful building was weird. It went better than I could have imagined and it was an experience I will treasure for a lifetime.

I called my dad when I got home just to tell him all about it. I wanted to share my exuberance with him as he was the one who started it all in the first place. And bless him – it was late as hell on the east coast and he still listened to me babble on and was thrilled for me. I love how life brings you back around sometimes.

A few days later I told my new friends about it and they said they would’ve gone with me (guess I should’ve been comfortable asking them after all), so they’re totally going to see Aaron Lewis with me in December! But I think Nicole said it best – that this experience would not have been the same and it would not have been so personal to me if I had gone with someone else. That this was something that was mine to do and to have – and that it was a night I would remember forever. And she’s so right – it really was.

So I hope you remember this story when you have the opportunity to do something you’ve always wanted to do. It may be scary or weird and you may have to go by yourself, but here’s to making new memories with your own fine self. And walking out afterwards with a big ass grin on your face because you had the time of your life and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Rock on.

Picture credits are by yours truly. Credit for the name of this post goes to Nicole 🙂

Say Something

What’s going on in America right now hurts my heart. Hurts my mind. And makes me hurt for people. All people. Because this kind of unrest will inevitably touch you, one way or another. I’m not one to speak out publicly on issues of social injustice, but I feel compelled to say something on this one. Because it is real. More real than I ever believed. And it is here. All around us.

Even if we try to ignore it.

Denver is in the midst of the fifth day of protests. I about jumped out of my skin last night when one of those Amber Alert notices went off on my cell phone. Notifying myself and the other fine citizens of Denver that we had 15 minutes until our 8pm curfew. Curfew. And not because of the ‘Rona, but because of the protests. Today, a coworker told me he was going to try and find more ammo because he heard the looters are now targeting predominantly white neighborhoods. And we were told to take precautions today to make sure our buildings and properties were secure. What kind of messed up world do we live in that we need to be concerned about these things? Wake up, people! This is not some story or issue coming out of another country. This is now. This is America.

We need to say something. That is literally what I am doing here. But there is a way to protest, a way to get your voice heard. We have more platforms than ever before. But the “poisoned well that is social media” (credit Dan Le Batard) is one of the main problems. More than enough has been said about the people taking advantage and rioting and breaking the law in the name of protest because it is wrong. Just that. Wrong. I drove through a town yesterday and I noticed a young lady on the sidewalk holding a sign. She was calmly standing there by herself, wearing her mask and holding a sign saying, “Black Lives Matter”. She was brave enough to stand there and make her voice heard. Oh, and another thing. She wasn’t black. She was white.

I grew up in Philadelphia, in a racially diverse school, but in a predominantly white neighborhood and family. Many of our friends were black and we never really saw any difference. We were just all kids. Until other voices made themselves heard and we heard things that were not so pleasant. It changed some people, but not everyone. I learned that racism was real, but it didn’t really affect me. Because I was white. But I liked my black friends and thought they were cool, so I thought that made up for the opinions of others around me. Wrong.

Fast forward years later and I started experiencing prejudice of another kind. And, *gasp*, this was towards me. I was good at my job, and I was going to get promoted. But guess what? I wasn’t going to get the same salary or the same benefits that my peers were getting. Why? Because I was female. Call it entitlement, call it the Boy’s Club, call it whatever. It took years for it to be made right and to become almost equal to those of my male counterparts. And how did it happen? You guessed it. Because I spoke up and said something. No one was going to do it for me, I had to stand up and ask for what I was entitled to, because the people who should have done something, didn’t. They just let it happen. Then it finally started to sink in. This only scratches the surface of what people of color deal with, but it became even more real because it actually happened to me. Conversely, some of the people who made a huge impact on me in my college years were black – they didn’t see me as a white girl, I was a sister. I was a friend. And I was all the better for it.

Some time after that I realized something else that some people have other prejudices – towards those with a different life status than their own. Some because of rich people, some towards those less fortunate than themselves, and some because of relationship status. Even towards single people. And guess what? I had to be all those things before I experienced those types of prejudices that people have. Again, this is totally low-grade, but it made me think deeper of how people treat people and how messed up it could be.

Then, two years ago I moved to Denver and experienced something even more disturbing. There is a lot more racism in this part of the country than I even knew or imagined. Remember I said I’m from Philly, right? There, the white population is 34.9% and the black population is 41.3%. Not Denver. The white population is a whopping 53.6% here and the black population is only 9.2%. I had no idea what I was going to run into. Here, a lot more things were said directly to me about black people in a less than friendly manner. At one point, my team was made up of 16 people and four of them were black. My Philly mind didn’t think anything of it. Then, someone made this comment to me, “You hire a lot of black people, don’t you”? I can’t make this up. I just looked at them and said, “Yes. Why, is that weird?” They kind of sputtered. Others made comments like, “Tell him to pull his pants up” or “tell him not to wear his hoodie up” and various other comments I don’t even want to write. Then there is the Hispanic population prejudice here – black or brown – people see what they want to see.

Obviously, not all white people in Denver are prejudiced. I know plenty of people who are just as upset and saddened by all of this hatred as I am. But the very real fact is that this is not a popular place for black people. I’m not sure why, but I am trying to do my part here and show people that it is not the color of skin, that makes all of us different, it’s the heart. We all bleed the same. The same blood was shed for all of us. It’s our hearts that need to be changed.

So, why did I decide to speak up now? Mainly because I was motivated by people who I listen to often and who I’ve known to make a difference. Most of you know I am a huge sports fan. So I listen to ESPN Radio a lot. This morning driving to work, I heard Stephen A. Smith talking about George Floyd’s death On Get Up and he said this was actually an American issue, not just a George Floyd issue. He also said that part of the issue is the imagery of how black men are depicted and portrayed. He said it was so important that white people speak up. That white silence was compliance. and that is what this is what everything has come down to and why we need to say something. It made such an impact on me and I was thinking about it when I went into work. Where one of my best employees was talking about the riots. He’s black and is one of the ones who taught me what it was like here. Again, being from Philly, I had no idea.

Then, my favorite radio show came on. I faithfully listen to the Dan Le Batard show on ESPN Radio almost every day. Mainly because I am intensely attracted to passionate people and Dan is one of the most passionate sports people I know. He is an award-winning journalist and I have heard him break down on radio more than once. He came on this morning and the passion and the feeling in his voice was palpable. You could feel it through the speakers. Because I cannot even begin to paraphrase his monolog, here is what he said.

“You can’t believe anything you see and read because you see bricks in the street and you don’t know who put them there,” said Le Batard, speaking from his knowledge of life under a communist regime in Cuba to the unrest manifesting itself around America over the previous five days. “You don’t know whether the people protesting really are protesting, or if they just want to start more violence. That’s propaganda. That’s Cuba. You can’t believe the things that you’re watching. You don’t know what’s real and what’s not real. It just… It’s heartbreaking. We’ll play all sorts of sounds for you today from people who are more eloquent than I am, and more qualified to speak on this than I am. Because I’m just an observer. Latin or not, minority or not, I come from privilege… I hope we can just laugh today, that there can be some medicine somewhere in this, because I’m telling you, Stugotz, I have been alive for 51 years and I have not had as heart-breaking a weekend for something that didn’t really directly impact me as I did this weekend. Where my fear kept me in a place, I gotta think it’s happening to a lot of people. I gotta think this bone weariness, this heavy feeling you have in your heart, in your stomach, it feels like a disease.

“America and its vibrant economy had to close down because of a disease that attacked the lungs for a few months. Now that disease has been engulfed and swallowed by a disease that has ravaged the heart for centuries.“

See what I mean? The man has passion. Normally, ESPN tries to keep political talk at bay, but this is too big and no one was holding Dan back this time.

Jalen Rose made a comment the other day on ESPN that slapped me in the face, “I wish America loved black people as much as they love black culture”. I have been guilty of this in the past and please God, let me never be guilty of that again.

Think about a mere four months ago – when the whole world, and ALL of America, was mourning the death of Kobe Bryant. Oh, and he was black man. Who played college ball in Philly. And we all loved him. It doesn’t make sense.

So, after hearing and reading things over the weekend, then listening to these two very respected, passionate people talking about what is real, I felt I needed to say something. Even if it is very simply to say that I see black people as real people who think and eat and bleed the same as I do. The same thing with the Mexican people I have come to know and respect. I have never experienced a more loving, sharing culture. These people are people who live and breathe and love just the same as anyone else. And we need to recognize and acknowledge that .

So, don’t think you need to go to a protest, or get a spot on TV or radio, all you need to do is speak up if you see something. Or hear something. What that officer did to George Floyd was inexcusable. But what the other ones standing by did was almost worse. They stood by and did nothing. They didn’t have to do everything, but they had the power to do something.

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” ― Edmund Burke

So, go do something. Something good. Something that matters. It can make a difference in the life of another human. Even if it is yourself.

Original Painting by Alexa Johnson (my cousin!)

https://instagram.com/alexa.marie.art?igshid=b8zfc6mbwt07