This has always been what I would call a very Nashville story.
Way back when the original Turnip Truck was situated in an old gas station in East Nashville. (Wanna prove your Native Nashvillian cred? What was the store called before John Dyke settled on the Turnip Truck? I'll put the answer at the bottom of this blog entry.)
Sorry. I wandered. The American music scene lost one of its original, most eccentric voices this week. Among my people, there has been a decades-old ongoing debate about the true inheritor of Woody Guthrie's mantle. All of the usual contenders are great. I love Arlo for creating that Thanksgiving radio staple, Alice's Restaurant. Bruce Springsteen and John Mellencamp both have the heart and soul, but all three of these gentlemen lack the combination of hippie energy in the form of approaching the world with love, the antic sharpness of one of God's jesters, and the ability to leave his field of concerns fallow as Todd Snider.
Way back when the original Turnip Truck was situated in an old gas station in East Nashville. (Wanna prove your Native Nashvillian cred? What was the store called before John Dyke settled on the Turnip Truck? I'll put the answer at the bottom of this blog entry.)
Sorry. I wandered. The American music scene lost one of its original, most eccentric voices this week. Among my people, there has been a decades-old ongoing debate about the true inheritor of Woody Guthrie's mantle. All of the usual contenders are great. I love Arlo for creating that Thanksgiving radio staple, Alice's Restaurant. Bruce Springsteen and John Mellencamp both have the heart and soul, but all three of these gentlemen lack the combination of hippie energy in the form of approaching the world with love, the antic sharpness of one of God's jesters, and the ability to leave his field of concerns fallow as Todd Snider.
There will be reams written about Snider's music and his legacy as a part of the feisty, fuzzy indie Americana scene. Much of it will be tapped out by better writers who are more knowledgeable than I am. Instead, I am going to tell you about how my Mama made a cheese friend at the Turnip Truck in East Nashville.
I always took her to the Truck as a bit of recovery from dealing with Kroger. Those places always made her "damned mad." So we'd drop off our Annies and Bocas and head to East Nashville where she and the cashiers and Zack to produce guy and the purchaser with the cowboy boots all knew each other by name or face and she would sigh happily about being "among her people." Even though she always claims she is an introvert who never speaks to anyone, she is always the one has never met a stranger. I hang back just to make sure everything is okay.
Wandering again. Sorry.
So one afternoon she's explaining to this lanky guy that Tillamook is the best cheese and it's made in Portland. He tells her he's from Portland and they walk around Turnip Truck and talk about their favorite organic junk food. This is getting a lot of looks and I do a double take. She's discussing Barbara's cheese doodles with Todd Snider. They both seem to be having a good time, so I follow along at a distance until they finish their conversation and then I we checked out our groceries.
While I has putting the bags in the car, I asked Mama if she had a good talk with Todd Snider.
Her response: "Who?"
I may be misremembering, but it seems like they ran into each other a couple more times. He was always polite and kind to my mother. A few years later, I played Eastside Bulldog while we were driving through South Central Kentucky. I told her that was her Cheese Friend. He got a new fan that day. East Nashville Skyline is good, too, if a bit more polite and polished. Bulldog is more racous and shows off the fun energy he brought to his music.
Rest in peace, Todd.
Oh, before I forget! The original name of the Turnip Truck was Good Earth, then it was changed to Zack's before it was finally called the Turnip Truck.
I always took her to the Truck as a bit of recovery from dealing with Kroger. Those places always made her "damned mad." So we'd drop off our Annies and Bocas and head to East Nashville where she and the cashiers and Zack to produce guy and the purchaser with the cowboy boots all knew each other by name or face and she would sigh happily about being "among her people." Even though she always claims she is an introvert who never speaks to anyone, she is always the one has never met a stranger. I hang back just to make sure everything is okay.
Wandering again. Sorry.
So one afternoon she's explaining to this lanky guy that Tillamook is the best cheese and it's made in Portland. He tells her he's from Portland and they walk around Turnip Truck and talk about their favorite organic junk food. This is getting a lot of looks and I do a double take. She's discussing Barbara's cheese doodles with Todd Snider. They both seem to be having a good time, so I follow along at a distance until they finish their conversation and then I we checked out our groceries.
While I has putting the bags in the car, I asked Mama if she had a good talk with Todd Snider.
Her response: "Who?"
I may be misremembering, but it seems like they ran into each other a couple more times. He was always polite and kind to my mother. A few years later, I played Eastside Bulldog while we were driving through South Central Kentucky. I told her that was her Cheese Friend. He got a new fan that day. East Nashville Skyline is good, too, if a bit more polite and polished. Bulldog is more racous and shows off the fun energy he brought to his music.
Rest in peace, Todd.
Oh, before I forget! The original name of the Turnip Truck was Good Earth, then it was changed to Zack's before it was finally called the Turnip Truck.
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