On The Road Again

 Brewing Vats, Diskin Cidery, Nashville, TN

You've probably noticed I haven't posted anything recently You have noticed, right? Okay, you didn't. But now that you know I haven't posted, you're probably thinking, "About time. Why haven't we heard from you? You're in luck because I am about to answer that question.

  I spent the month of May traveling. I had the unique opportunity to spend time in two exotic destinations -- Nashville. Tennessee, and Cleveland, Ohio-by way of Columbus. Frankly, I am amazed at how many C'Bussers and Clevelanders there are out there. I run across them on almost a daily basis. Ohio seems to be the place not only to be from, but to move to. In fact I would hazard an educated guess that at least 87.3% of the population of the lower forty-eight were either born or brought up in one of those two cities. I am the exception of course, being a native Minnesotan. There was even a time when I talked like Frances Dormand in 'Fargo'. Of course Fargo is in North Dakota. I know that. My mother's side of the family was from North Dakota so I know the nuances of being a Gopher vs a...hmmm...what do they call themselves out there in oil country?  Which brings to mind that I also own a third of a fifth of two oil wells, but I don't want that out there. Who needs the Sierra Club or the EPA on their doorstep? Well not the EPA anymore, I guess, unless they are bringing me a refund check for allowing them to take the pollution controls off my wells. Deep breaths North Dakotans, air so thick you can cut it like bread.

  Anyway, as I so often do, I have rambled off the road of my travelogue. I do this when driving as well. My kids call these diversions, "Mom's shortcuts." I take the wrong exit all the time. But the things I see! The big cheese in Wisconsin, the seedy side of Evansville Indiana and a beautiful Lake just off the interstate in Lake Charles, Missouri -- coincidentally called Lake Charles. What are the odds?  You don't see the good stuff unless you get off the I-routes.

  So it's been awhile since I took a road trip and where better to visit in the spring than Nashville. Not only is there a lot of good music in Nashville, not all of which is country, but my daughter and her newly acquired husband live there. Another amazing coincidence!

  One of my reasons for visiting Nashville at this particular time was the grand opening of the Disken Cidery for which my son-in-law is the brewer. Those purple stainless steel tanks in the picture is where the magic happens.  Of course part of the brewer's job is to create new and enticing flavors of cider. I must say he'd done a fine job so far. Never knew hard cider could be so interesting.

  Nashville is a city on the move. You know you're there about thirty miles out when the traffic jam begins. Those folks voted down light rail connecting the burbs to the central city this year. Bad choice. It's a fun city once you finally get there. Even though it is going through a giant growth spurt, it still feels small town.

  The other high point of the trip was a visit to Franklin, TN just south of the city to see Carnton, a plantation. (I've already done all the Andrew Jackson stuff, curse his black heart -- against instructions I touched the wall paper in the Hermitage, wall paper personally chosen by Old Hickory himself. I figured he had it coming--payback for running Tecumseh's folks out of Prophetstown. Enough people touch it, and it'll peel right off the walls. This is how I think. Don't get mad, get even.

Back to Carnton. One day in 1864 the residents of Carnton woke up and realized their house was directly between the battle lines of two opposing armies. You look out your front door and see that you don't need caffeine to get moving.  The house and the cemetery on the plantation grounds are instructive as to the cost of war; from the bloodstains that are still visible in the hardwood floors of the upstairs bedrooms used as operating rooms, to the ground in the front yard in which fifteen hundred young men are buried. War was a lot more personal in 1864.

  It is also important to note that Nashville isn't only about hot chicken and barbeque. They have some pretty tasty Mexican and Indian food as well. (And we all know that as far as I am concerned eating Indian Food is about as close to Heaven as you can get in this world.) Bon Appetite.

  The following week I continued my road tripping to head east to Columbus to pick up my other daughter and head north to Cleveland to watch my sister graduate from Case Western Reserve University. Because one masters degree doesn't seem to be enough, my sister had decided to obtain her second since it was on the University's dime. (She's a professor at Case. May as well take advantage of the benefits, right?)

 Graduations aren't my favorite thing. I really don't much like to go to them. I get bored so easily. But this one was held in a Synagogue. Not a usual place for a graduation, but the local Jewish community has donated the building to be the next University Performing Arts Center, with one important caveat. It still has to available for worship. It's a beautiful building, but I'm not sure how they will juggle religious services with the afternoon matinee of "Grease" or other Case Theater productions.

onstagemagazine.com

This isn't the Jewish Temple, though it is a Temple-to Rock and Roll.

  The good new is that Cleveland isn't boring. Between the free museums, great food, a great lake, and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame you can't go wrong. (Did you know that Niagra Falls is just a couple hours down the road? So's Pittsburg.) President James Garfield is buried in Cleveland. Well not actually buried. Think Stalin in Red Square. And of course, I couldn't go on a road trip with one of my kids without taking one of my shortcuts. Got a great tour of down town Cleveland in a downpour. I know, I can't seem to help myself. But -- since I now use GPS, this one's on Google.