Well, we survived the Nashville scene without too much difficulty. The main purpose of the trip was to attend the wedding of Mrs. Sunsett's youngest nephew.
Somehow, originally, we had been given the impression that the wedding would take place across the street in an art museum. So I did some research and found that the Frist Center For The Visual Arts was, in fact, located across the street from the hotel. As luck would have it, I love art museums. So naturally, I was very excited and began looking forward to it almost immediately. I even looked up the museum's website to see what exhibits would be there. Being a huge fan of paintings, I was immediately drawn to the one marked Matisse, Picasso, and the School of Paris.
"Brilliant", I thought to myself. (I am more of a fan of Impressionism than I am of Fauvism or Cubism. But nevertheless, I was still excited.)
The wedding was on Sunday, but we arrived on Saturday afternoon. The plan was to find someplace to eat with a local flavor, and then find a night club with some up and coming wannabe country band, after we made an appearance in the rehearsal reception in my sister-in-law's suite. The wedding party was to have dinner, first. In the meantime, we thought we'd eat while they were eating
We decided to go to a longtime, well-praised and liked, Nashville staple called Jack's Bar-B-Que (a few blocks away) for some authentic Tennessee BBQ. It was supposed be one of the best BBQ joints in the land.
Then came the news that the rehearsal dinner was running late, so the 8:30 reception in the suite was moved back, to 10:00 or so. When we finally got to the reception, we learned the disappointing news that the wedding was NOT going to be at the Frist Center, but at a local art gallery three miles away.
"Okay", I thought. Maybe this was going to be a pleasant little gallery in a nice atmosphere, with a local avant-garde touch of style.
The art gallery was okay, not much creativity from where I sat. The neighborhood was dilapidated and the gallery was housed in what looked to be an old body shop. The wedding was held in the back of the gallery (where all of the paint cans, easels and many other art supplies and equipment were stored).
So to summarize the chain of events of the weekend (which has been officially categorized as a "comedy of errors") :
The dinner at Jack's was highly disappointing, we had no time to check out a local honky-tonk, I didn't get to see the Frist Center (with the fine exhibits that it had to offer), and the wedding was held in a garage in 80 degree heat.
But all was not lost, I suppose. I did stay in a Holiday Inn Express that night.