Second Place Trivia Masters at the Dive Bar
The drive up through Texas was rainy and mundane. We passed a number of minor accidents along the way and sat in some of the only traffic we’d experienced up to that point in the trip. I suppose living in the gridlock apocalypse that is Long Island had set our expectations higher than they should have been.
There isn’t really all that much else to say about the ride up other than I was somewhat appalled by a few of the town names in Arkansas.
Texarkana, really? Isn’t that an anime about giant robots?
Arkadelphia. I mean, Arkadelphia? Sounds like a lazy student who didn’t do the reading just bullshitting up a location name when the teacher calls on him.
Friendship? Friendship!? Okay, Friendship is actually a bad ass town name.
The plan was to make it as close as we could to Nashville without going too stir crazy in Fishtank; we’d already done around 47 crossword puzzles on the road and we were beginning to decrypt the book’s pattern like CIA code breakers. Little Rock fit the bill, it was about a seven-and-a-half-hour drive from Austin and less than five hours from Nashville. We rolled into the place around 10:30 p.m. and didn’t see much of it other than the River Bridges, but it seemed nice enough. Little Rock: hometown of Bill and Hillary Clinton, Evanescence, and Judge Reinhold.
The following morning we were set to head out toward Nashville but decided to stop for coffee somewhere along the way first. The GPS suggested a little place in Forrest City, and we obliged. It turned out to be a non-profit café that was connected to a church. It’s name? Holy Grounds. I love a good pun and that right there, my friends, is a banger.
The two women at the counter were incredibly kind and cordial. They were amused by Fishtank and fascinated by our story. We had a fairly long conversation with them. They told us we hadn’t missed much in Little Rock but we were in for an incredible time in Nashville.
On our way out, after exchanging gratitudes and well wishes, one of the women shouted out, “Enjoy this all while you can, I wish I was young again!”
It was funny in a mom-and-dad humor sort of way, but it was also rather poignant and powerful. There was sadness and almost a little regret in her voice. I hope this trip, and the many others that follow, can do a bit to fight off some of the should-haves and what-ifs that are sure to rear their heads when my grayer days have come.
We decided to grab an Air BnB in East Nashville and it was one of the finest decisions we’d made the whole trip through. The house was home to two dogs, an English Cream Golden Retriever named Otis and a Border Collie named Penny, as well as a 20-year-old blind cat named Coco. Entering the home for our first time, I was quick to recognize the origins of the two pup’s names.
There were guitars and guitar cases everywhere, stacks of vinyls and a record player in the living area, Stones and Beatles books on the coffee table, and gold and platinum records hung on the wall.
Otis Redding and Penny Lane.
It turned out one of our hosts, Duncan, worked with rock legend (and Long Island native!) Eddie Money. The gold and platinum records on the wall were the real deal and they had been awarded to him for his work on some of Eddie’s recordings. I don’t think Air BnBs get much cooler, for me at least.
We threw our stuff down and marveled at the amazing home we were crashing in and then went out to a place call Tailgate Brewery for dinner and some drinks. I wanted to catch the first NBA game of the season (I’m a basketball fiend) and Gabby was cool enough to oblige. It turned out that there was a trivia night going on there and the host easily convinced us to join in on the festivities. I’m a useless fact fiend, too.
The food was good, the beer was good, the basketball game was so-so, and we wound up coming in second place in trivia night. Our winning answer was “Annapolis, Maryland.” Second place was cool with us because only nerds win at trivia, of course.
Our prize was $25 which took a considerable chunk out of our bill, a welcome relief considering our dwindling bank accounts. We paid up and hit the streets with the idea of catching some local bands in mind. The GPS pointed us toward a place called The Five Spot, which seemed cheap and divey. Our kind of place.
It was Two Dollar Tuesday at The Five Spot. Two dollars at the door for a night of live music. A potpourri of pretty sharp bands played us a wide-range of thoroughly enjoyable tunes. Loop-pedal jams, country pop, southern rock, electric soul, indie-blues. In between sets the host of the night would come over the PA system like Wolfman Jack and spin obscure vinyls for all the kiddies.
I’ve always romanticized the idea of the classic radio disc jockey in my mind. Some dude out there in a radio tower surrounded by every record imaginable, chain smoking and spinning only the tracks he wants you to hear. Before you had Spotify or Apple Music or Kazaa or Napster you could only get your music in a handful of ways. You buy the record, you know someone who has the record, you see it on MTV, or you listen to the radio. I believe that this scarcity elevated the power of the music. It wasn’t so commonplace or disposable; it was rare and valued like great art should be.
This is all to say that The Five Spot’s Wolfman Jack was awesome and I aspire to be like him one day.
I genuinely enjoyed all of the bands that played that night in East Nashville…
…but I thought the last one to come up was by far the best. They were a Toronto-based sort of garage indie duo named Catl (pictured above). There was a denim-clad dude with a super old Robert Johnson looking guitar that snarled out gritty blues riffs and a hip chick with colorful hair who sang and played the drums standing up. Their whole aesthetic was pretty bad ass and the tunes were ripe and juicy.
It was all in all a wonderful night out for both of us. We love to see unknown bands performing in cool little dives. There’s something so powerful and personal about people baring their musical souls simply for the love of the art form. The following day, however, we would be having an equally powerful and personal experience with a long dead legend of popular music.
To be continued…
