Brad is a creature of habit. His life is led by a strict code. His rules (and lists) keep life moving forward in an orderly fashion. When it rains, Brad issues the Compton Laundry Embargo. Brad doesn't use the dishwasher because "it might break." Brad uses their fireplace only once each year, then insists that the chimney be professionally cleaned before the next season. And annually in November... Brad enforces winter time travel restrictions. This makes traveling for Connie's birthday challenging. Thus, we celebrate in September.
In true Compton fashion, our first order of business upon arriving in the Music City was to "check in." This is a crucial step. Much like I can't have fun if I haven't seen my location on a map, the Comptons can't have fun until we've established traveler's residency. Our address for the weekend: The Nashville Doubletree. Allow me to point out that, while it served its function well, the Doubletree is no Marriott. But I digress.
There are two things that Connie likes above all others--wine and Jimmy Buffett. But I can't be sure of the order. Our agenda for the pseudo-birthday celebration was to visit Arrington Vineyards and eat at Margaritaville Nashville. Everything else was supplementary.
Arrington Vineyards is a half-hour drive south of Nashville. The tasting room sits on a hill overlooking the park-like setting, vineyards, and rolling Tennessee landscape. They allow bottles to be purchased for drinking on the facilities. My recommendation: the Guwerztraminer. Arrington hosts live music daily. We'll be returning.
Off to Margaritaville Nashville. This was our third trip to the establishment with the Comptons. The first time was before it had opened. Connie wanted a picture with the building that would become Margaritaville Nashville. She's obsessive (and a bit creepy) like that. The second occasion was on our way back from the Margaritaville Beach Hotel in Pensacola, Florida. You're welcome, Jimmy Buffett. Unlike our second trip, we managed to escape from the gift shop without a single purchase. I think Jimmy is doing just fine without us making extra purchases.
On down Broadway to Tootsie's World Famous Orchid Lounge. Our goal: catch the day's performance by Jake Maurer. Mission: Not accomplished. Tootsie's website, much like its facilities, needs a bit of updating. We missed Jake by several hours. Tootsie's is legendary. Many of country music's pioneers played or hung out there as has many of country's contemporary artists. If its walls could talk, they would have stories of Patsy Cline, Hank Williams, and Waylon Jennings. And once they'd told those stories, I think the walls would say, "Please wash us." The lounge smells a bit like stale vomit. The celebrity photos are covered with a yellow tint I can only imagine is years of cigarette smoke. And I didn't attempt to dance because my Sperry's kept sticking to the floor (nod to the Kliers). But somehow, it all works for Tootsie's. Although we missed Jake Maurer, we were able to listen to plenty of live music from other budding musicians.
We concluded the night by stopping at the Second Fiddle for more live music and a visit to Joe's Crab Shack for a snack. Connie was able to pet a horse. Her pseudo-birthday now complete.
While we take plenty of jabs at Brad, his travel embargo works well for his wife. Tonight, we'll celebrate Connie's thirtieth birthday AGAIN. But this time in a local venue. Although the entertainment will lack fame, no celebrities own the establishments, and the restaurants don't include gift shops, there are plenty of places in Charleston where our Sperry's will stick to the floor... Happy birthday, Connie!
In true Compton fashion, our first order of business upon arriving in the Music City was to "check in." This is a crucial step. Much like I can't have fun if I haven't seen my location on a map, the Comptons can't have fun until we've established traveler's residency. Our address for the weekend: The Nashville Doubletree. Allow me to point out that, while it served its function well, the Doubletree is no Marriott. But I digress.
There are two things that Connie likes above all others--wine and Jimmy Buffett. But I can't be sure of the order. Our agenda for the pseudo-birthday celebration was to visit Arrington Vineyards and eat at Margaritaville Nashville. Everything else was supplementary.
Arrington Vineyards is a half-hour drive south of Nashville. The tasting room sits on a hill overlooking the park-like setting, vineyards, and rolling Tennessee landscape. They allow bottles to be purchased for drinking on the facilities. My recommendation: the Guwerztraminer. Arrington hosts live music daily. We'll be returning.
Off to Margaritaville Nashville. This was our third trip to the establishment with the Comptons. The first time was before it had opened. Connie wanted a picture with the building that would become Margaritaville Nashville. She's obsessive (and a bit creepy) like that. The second occasion was on our way back from the Margaritaville Beach Hotel in Pensacola, Florida. You're welcome, Jimmy Buffett. Unlike our second trip, we managed to escape from the gift shop without a single purchase. I think Jimmy is doing just fine without us making extra purchases.
On down Broadway to Tootsie's World Famous Orchid Lounge. Our goal: catch the day's performance by Jake Maurer. Mission: Not accomplished. Tootsie's website, much like its facilities, needs a bit of updating. We missed Jake by several hours. Tootsie's is legendary. Many of country music's pioneers played or hung out there as has many of country's contemporary artists. If its walls could talk, they would have stories of Patsy Cline, Hank Williams, and Waylon Jennings. And once they'd told those stories, I think the walls would say, "Please wash us." The lounge smells a bit like stale vomit. The celebrity photos are covered with a yellow tint I can only imagine is years of cigarette smoke. And I didn't attempt to dance because my Sperry's kept sticking to the floor (nod to the Kliers). But somehow, it all works for Tootsie's. Although we missed Jake Maurer, we were able to listen to plenty of live music from other budding musicians.
We concluded the night by stopping at the Second Fiddle for more live music and a visit to Joe's Crab Shack for a snack. Connie was able to pet a horse. Her pseudo-birthday now complete.
While we take plenty of jabs at Brad, his travel embargo works well for his wife. Tonight, we'll celebrate Connie's thirtieth birthday AGAIN. But this time in a local venue. Although the entertainment will lack fame, no celebrities own the establishments, and the restaurants don't include gift shops, there are plenty of places in Charleston where our Sperry's will stick to the floor... Happy birthday, Connie!
