A Living Magazine - Day 148 - A Night With Sunshine

It was a pleasantly unexciting night up at my Mount Olivet sleep spot. I rose with the sun, packed up and headed downtown.

Starbucks was packed to overflowing. The waiting space is only two-persons wide, and there was a lot of "oh, excuse me", "pardon me", "oh, no problem", "oops, so sorry", going on. People are quite civil in these kinds of situations. Here in the South, as with the Midwest and West, even when you're in a bad mood, it is unthinkable to spread it around, especially in the morning; New England (Connecticut, in particular) be damned.

I had been looking forward to this day ever since arriving in Nashville. A long-time online friend, Holly, lived here. She and I had the Cosmic Philosophy I've mentioned a few times, in common. But, I was just happy to have the opportunity to meet here face to face.

We'd had our ups and downs online, like many such relationships do. At the reconciliation after one of the downs, she called me "Moonbeam" (I won't mention why), and I already knew her nickname was "Sunshine". These monikers have stuck with us. I was looking for a little sunshine on this cloudy day.

I worked on "The Death of Fear" essay I'd started the day before, and finally - with about five read-throughs - it was completed. I'm still finding typos in it, but at some point, you have to move on. I'll let future editors pull their hair out with it. I have noticed an improvement with my writing since leaving Minneapolis, which just means that I can now stand reading it, without wanting to trash it and re-write.

Holly and I communicated via Facebook PMs (which is very effective, by the way). I was ready to run out to the car, whenever she happened to arrive. Then, I got the message she'd be at the corner of 4th and Church (right next to the Marriott where I stayed a few nights before. I hustled down and there she was!

I threw ole' Saggy in the backseat and hopped in front. And I noticed, my, oh my, what a beutiful lady she is! How her son's friends aren't constantly finding excuses to hang around the kitchen table with her each day, I can't figure...

From Holly's Facebook Profile album.

Unfortunately, I didn't even think to take shots of her myself;

an oversight that I am still kicking myself over two days later!

In my research of Nashville, I'd seen a Google image of the city's full scale replica of the Greek Parthenon. I'd even planned to go there and take pictures on that very day, but the morning rain kept me away. Without even knowing about this plan, Holly suggested we drive over to the West End of town and check it out. Yes, yes, yes... great minds...

My weirdly distorted panoramic view of the side.

Constructed in 1897 to celebrate the centennial of the incorporation of Tennessee, it stands as the only replica of that famous Greek temple in the world. It serves as an art museum (which is a great idea). We were not able to go inside--the doors were locked, but Holly told me there is a statue of the patron goddess, Athena Parthenos, as its centerpiece. Here is what Wikipedia says...

Alan LeQuire's 1990 re-creation of the Athena Parthenos statue is the focus of the Parthenon just as it was in ancient Greece. The statue of Athena Parthenos within is a reconstruction of the long-lost original to careful scholarly standards: she is cuirassed and helmeted, carries a shield on her left arm and a small 6-foot-high (1.8 m) statue of Nike (Victory) in her right palm, and stands 42 feet (13 m) high, gilt with more than 8 pounds (3.6 kg) of gold leaf; an equally colossal serpent rears its head between her and her shield. 

It would have been nice to view it, but there wasn't much daylight left anyway, and we had other sites to view...

We took off for our tour around the city, driving by Vanderbilt University and seeing its world class children's hospital; one that cared for, diagnosed and cured a rare health issue for one of her sons. Then we headed out to her neck of the woods, right near Percy Priest Lake, driving over the impressive dam and stopping briefly at the small park across from the marina to see the last of the sunset...

The dam was formed to create the lake between miles six and seven of the Stones River, and the area where she lives is about ten miles southeast of Nashville. We drove by her house, a nice place with a neighborhood that has developed around it. Holly is not fond of the rate of development, nor the loosening of restrictions around the lake. Nevertheless, it looks like a nice place to walk around, do some boating and hunting--while you still can. Unfortunately, ethnic problems have resulted in gang activity around the suburbs, and she recounted a sad story about a young man that her sons used to be friends with who migrated to the dark side (as it were) and ended up shooting another guy (not even the one he was trying for).

I've heard many such stories all across this land. The one thing that it brings up in my mind is that young men (more so, than young women) tend to not come into full moral maturity until they are about twenty five. In many ways I was very similar to these guys. It was only after college that I really began to develop a true sense that other people had value beyond what they could do for me. The years between sixteen and twenty five years old are dangerous ones. I grew up in Maine, where the temptation to automatically resort to deadly violence was not as strong. We had our feasts of fist fights, but guns just weren't even on the menu.  

We both had food on our minds after nightfall and decided to go to an Outback Steakhouse, just down the road from her neighborhood. There, we sat and talked. That time was very special to me. I've met many friends around the nation, and have found that dinner time is always the best chance to get into deeper subjects--to genuinely learn about each other.

Subjects ranged from family stories, to ambitions for the future, to spiritual issues, and on to common friends we have both met. Very recently the friend whom I took a ten day break with in Washington, Missouri, RhonnaLeigh, visited Holly and they had a nice time together...

RhonnaLeigh and Holly.

[Courtesy of Holly's Facebook pictures.]

Our food arrived, Holly with a delicious looking salmon steak, and a rare and mouthwatering ribeye for myself. As we ate, we discussed each of our dietary requirements, and agreed about how important the emphasis on protein should be. We also agreed about how destructive carbohydrates can be. Milk sugar in particular (lactose) and the base of many other foods, dextrose, are artificial aspects of the human diet. The milk industry, and the food industry in general, run a racket over the minds of the American people, starting with the so-called "food pyramid" with young children and then emphasizing the "three square meals a day" program for all people (click here - Huh? Mother Jones Explains Why Eating 3 Square Meals A Day Is Actually Racist - for a very revealing article about this concept).

These are not natural. They are not healthy. They contribute to obesity, type 2 diabetes, cancer, digestive diseases and even social problems (as the Mother Jones article above discusses). But, as I have elaborated on at great length in this blog, we are not ruled by rationality, logic or common sense. We are ruled by industry, ideology and our own ignorance, best observed by our complacent habits and reluctance to even ask ourselves why we do things. We - most of us - do not think for ourselves. We let a paternalistic government, largely manipulated by corporate lobbyists, infantilize us and require that we throw our own children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren into this secular cult of stupidity. Yes, Holly and I agreed on so much more than I think either of us was anticipating.

The night grew on, and Holly still had a couple places back downtown that she wanted to show me. Full and happy, we left the restaurant and drove back to the city. Further up Broadway, at the corner of 10th Street, is the famous Union Station (now a hotel). It was a beautiful structure, displaying the grand architectural styles of other train stations built in 1900. Originally serving eight railroads, it still stands majestically, with its tall clock tower overlooking Nashville. It reminded me very much of Portland Maine's ill-fated Union Station. Nashville was wise enough to keep its precious landmark stable, where Portland was not...

The clock tower of Nashville's Union Station rises proudly above the city. 

It had come to the time when I needed to get out to my sleep spot, and Holly kindly drove me to the little market I usually walked by and stopped into, at the southeastern part of town. We hugged and said our goodbyes, but not forever. We both want to get together again someday, no matter where we might end up living. And, for my part, I take that very seriously. I will certainly go and see her again in the future. She'd also packed a huge lunch filled with delicious snacks and her patented triple layer peanut butter and Tennessee honey sandwiches! Sometimes a carb is just a carb. Ha!

We had become digital friends many years ago, but had now sealed that friendship with a personal bond that has definitely enriched my life--even from only one visit, and brought still more emotional expansion into my project out here in the heart of America. I know now that Sunshine can even light up a Nashville night.

I walked back to my sleep spot, set up the tent, placed ole' Saggy in there and climbed in for what would be another quiet night.