Here, there and everywhere

By: John Denson

Published On: September 09, 2010

I wandered to the Tomato Art Fest at Five Points in mid-August. I went to the preview party the night before, too. It took me 15 minutes to get there from 37205, and they are all the way over in 37206. Once there, in and around the “center” of East Nashville, as always, I feel as if Nashville got a “Soho.” In fact, if my kids, many friends and roots weren’t over here, I’d live there. There’s a sense of the unexpected, hence accepted, “over there.”

One gets to simply be. Over here, we can be, too, but the word “something” or “someone” gets attached to the word “be” over here. Over there, nobody really gives a damn: preacher, plumber, ad exec, writer, landscaper, whatever. Straight, gay, black, white, teal…doesn’t matter. Glitter, Converse, ugly block shaped shoes—doesn’t matter.

There are a variety of good restaurants and clubs. A bike shop, hardware store, boutiques, like in Hillsboro Village or Belmont. There’s even a Belle Meade hidden under the big trees and lack of OCD. Of course, there is graffiti, bums, oddballs, and soccer moms, like here.

Rich, west Nashville oddballs are called “eccentric.” In East Nashville, they’re called neighborhood leaders. Fences are painted different colors. Some houses are really old, older than “ours.” People use sidewalks, and often speak, unafraid. Lots of folks walk and ride their bikes.

Of course, you get your early morning coffee-drinking Goths there, tennis moms here—neither feel like saying much early in the day. I bet there are more pets over there, or at least people who bring them out. I bet there are fewer housekeepers in 37206 than 37205.

At the Art Preview Party, there was a mini-west-Nashville invasion, ‘cause it’s hip to be there. As someone posted on Facebook, plenty of “eye candy.”

When I was a teenager, riding up and down Harding Road, I didn’t even know East Nashville was east. I just knew it was ‘over there,’ and not to go. Weird for such a city that isn’t that big.

Speaking of which, I wonder how many people who support keeping Bells Bend sacred have actually been there. You see, for a long time, Nashville’s city limits, to some of us, went from Charlotte Pike to Franklin Pike, and that was it. Anywhere else was simply not seen, or, God forbid, visited. And if you really were of the neighborhood, the pie slice was smaller, like, from Hillsboro Road to Harding Road. Beyond that and you’d be lost.

So funny. So boring, back then. Two zip codes, 05 and 15, were pretty much it. Plaid, white bucks, Weejuns, khaki and some seersucker. It.

Now it’s cotton, not-cotton, pumps, slides, shorts, tights, glitter, navels and whatever else. Everywhere. Here and there.

When I went to Hillsboro High School, I wore bell-bottoms and a starched shirt, long hair and sideburns and worn-out Weejuns. I kid you not. Great look.

Girls wore skirts short, like now. And those peasant shirts that make a girl look pregnant are back in style. I’ve no idea what they wore at East High School, but whatever it was, I’m sure I would’ve judged it as being uncool.

How did we think khakis and loafers and torn jeans with starched shirts were cool?

Now things just are. Part of this is due to Marshall McLuhan, and part to MTV, even though both may be the same.

There’s not much that’s considered outrageous anymore, except that we have a U. S. President of color. That he actually lives by the constitution (see mosque) upsets a bunch of “patriots,” who, they claim, live by the constitution.

Sure, a bunch of British guys who founded us were Christian, yet they founded the whole place based on religious freedom. That would include mosques. Hell, we’ve got a Christian church on virtually every street corner in Nashville. What’s wrong with the occasional Buddhist temple? Or even mosque?

Here’s why: like East Nashville, it’s different. Unfamiliar. Until you go. Then, ta-da! You leave thinking “that was enlightening.” But if we’ve got Sperry’s, and The Club, and Starbucks; who needs enlightenment? I mean, once we turn onto I-440 it’s either to the airport or it was accidental…yet it’s worth trying. Who knows where it will lead you?

—John Denson