Just A Moment

Nashville was great. While it did brew up a little thunderstorm and gave us flashbacks to the May 1st flood (apparently we bring rain to that city), the weather dried up quickly. There was that little incident where the gusty wind took control of my lightweight skirt and introduced more of me than I wanted to the folks on Commerce Street. Hello Nashville, meet Hula’s backside! Have you seen my new underwear?

I can report that downtown Nashville is clean and almost back to normal. The Cumberland River is tucked back into her banks.

The street musicians are back under the eaves of shops, and all but a couple of stores and restaurants are open for business.

The Ryman Auditorium was fabulous as always, and it was the perfect place to see rock icon Neil Young. We loved the show. Not many performers can pull off a one man act without a band, but he did, shuffling between a variety of guitars, pianos and even an old pump organ. The typical audience members like Mr. Smells Like Spilled Beer, Ms. Dances Like A Maniac and Sir Pees A Lot made the experience all that more interesting. We were thoroughly entertained, but it was the ride home that made me smile the most.

Somewhere around Clarksville, Tennessee at about 12:30 this morning while we were driving down the interstate I had a moment. Hubby and I were drinking convenience store sodas, eating fizzy Skittles and singing Harvest Moon to each other when I realized it was one of THOSE moments. You know, when everything seems perfect, time seems to freeze and the moment seems bigger than you. There are no worries about aging parents, teenaged children or cancer stricken friends. You are completely taken away by the music and the person sitting next to you, and you have no doubts that for some unexplained reason you will always remember this moment, no matter how old you get. I smiled in the darkness and kept singing off key.

“I’m still in love with you. I wanna see you dance again, on this harvest moon.”

Those moments are like rainbows. They are incredible when they happen, they fill you with awe and then they slip away quickly, making you long for their return. And they are so rare, that you truly appreciate them when they happen. For a brief few seconds, longer if you’re lucky, you get a glimpse into your own heart, and you like what you see. Then it passes, but because of that moment, you know you’re going to be okay, no matter what life throws at you. What a night.

Yes, Nashville is fine. And so am I.