So I stayed with a couple of guys my friend from Idaho Mark knows. Mark seems to know the swing kings of ever town in America. So I am staying with the swing champions of Nashville. As it turns out, they hardly know Mark. They just offered up a place for me to stay without knowing anything about me other than I know a couple of dance tricks (and I suck at them). I am so impressed at the people who seem to be willing to give me the shirt off their back. I don't know why I have been so lucky with this, and why the swing dancers seem to be the coolest about this sort of thing.
In the morning one of the guys Richard took me to the farmers market where there was swing dancing going on. My intentions were only to eat some soul food and be entertained. Especially because there was all sorts of people watching, I was just going to be a spectator with them. But the dancers seemed so inordinately jubilant when they danced, its almost jarring. Then I thought about how I had the gumption to walk into warner bros. records yesterday looking for a job, but I couldn't muster up the courage ask a good dancer for a dance. Then I thought about Esther the old woman from Denver, and what she would have said if she saw me on the sidelines. So I rubbed my MoJo bag and grabbed me a woman. As soon as I began dancing, every dancer wanted to get to know the new guy. I guess they all knew eachother. Immediately they were trying to help me with my plight and give me connections which they did. And they invited me to social events as well. I can't believe how cool they all were. They made me feel so welcome Oddly enough, the whole time I was learning how to dance, its something I kept very under the radar of all my friends. I didn't want anyone to know. But they are the nicest people and I can't understand why. They live to dance. I really should be proud to announce that I can dance. Consider this my coming out party.
The rest of the day I went to explore Hendersonville, looking for Johnny Cash's home and museum. It turns out Johnny Cash blvd, is no longer really called Johhny Cash blvd on the signs. His home burned down and the museum called "House of Cash," the address took me to a YMCA. I guess his museum no longer exists. I spent about a half hour in the YMCA parking lot trying to think of things that would be more disrespectful to Johnny Cash than a YMCA, I found many that were comparable, but not that many more disrepectful. I started to wonder if I had a friend working for GPS playing an elaborate prank on me sending me on a goose chase. Then I wondered, "why am I so obsessed with Johnny Cash?" I have read his books, I know all his songs and I own a copy of his movie. Isn't that enough? Maybe its time that I stop being the person who when they know me they say, "every time I see or hear Johnny Cash, I think of you." Of course I take it as a compliment, but maybe its time to move on. Or maybe its the rootbeer talking. who knows.
Well, to cap off the day, one of the female dancers I met gave me a lead on a position that will be opening in production on a local tv station. If I get my stuff to the right person, I could have a decent chance at a job. We will see.
scripture: D&C 59:6
In the morning one of the guys Richard took me to the farmers market where there was swing dancing going on. My intentions were only to eat some soul food and be entertained. Especially because there was all sorts of people watching, I was just going to be a spectator with them. But the dancers seemed so inordinately jubilant when they danced, its almost jarring. Then I thought about how I had the gumption to walk into warner bros. records yesterday looking for a job, but I couldn't muster up the courage ask a good dancer for a dance. Then I thought about Esther the old woman from Denver, and what she would have said if she saw me on the sidelines. So I rubbed my MoJo bag and grabbed me a woman. As soon as I began dancing, every dancer wanted to get to know the new guy. I guess they all knew eachother. Immediately they were trying to help me with my plight and give me connections which they did. And they invited me to social events as well. I can't believe how cool they all were. They made me feel so welcome Oddly enough, the whole time I was learning how to dance, its something I kept very under the radar of all my friends. I didn't want anyone to know. But they are the nicest people and I can't understand why. They live to dance. I really should be proud to announce that I can dance. Consider this my coming out party.
The rest of the day I went to explore Hendersonville, looking for Johnny Cash's home and museum. It turns out Johnny Cash blvd, is no longer really called Johhny Cash blvd on the signs. His home burned down and the museum called "House of Cash," the address took me to a YMCA. I guess his museum no longer exists. I spent about a half hour in the YMCA parking lot trying to think of things that would be more disrespectful to Johnny Cash than a YMCA, I found many that were comparable, but not that many more disrepectful. I started to wonder if I had a friend working for GPS playing an elaborate prank on me sending me on a goose chase. Then I wondered, "why am I so obsessed with Johnny Cash?" I have read his books, I know all his songs and I own a copy of his movie. Isn't that enough? Maybe its time that I stop being the person who when they know me they say, "every time I see or hear Johnny Cash, I think of you." Of course I take it as a compliment, but maybe its time to move on. Or maybe its the rootbeer talking. who knows.
Well, to cap off the day, one of the female dancers I met gave me a lead on a position that will be opening in production on a local tv station. If I get my stuff to the right person, I could have a decent chance at a job. We will see.
scripture: D&C 59:6
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