An Open Letter to the Nashville Scene

Dear Grandma:

One of my grandmothers is dead and the other one lives just south of Chicago and I never get to see her.  So, I find your presence in my life comforting.  I like to sit down with you on a Wednesday afternoon and soak in the Grandmotherly ambiance.

This week has been especially sweet for me, as you’ve covered a plethora of the Grandma topics:

–"What’s with these new-fangled motorcycles?  They’re so loud.  And they’re dangerous."

–"You know what’s fun?  Gawking at people who are different than us."

–"Kids today.  Why must they act so shamefully?"

–"Call me persnickity, but…" [Yes. Actual quote.]

–"It’s too hot!"

–"That Shania Twain.  She’s such a hussy."

–"No one cares about dead people as much as I do."

Now, don’t get me wrong.  Each individual story has something to offer, but it’s the overall effect I find most moving.  Opening up the Scene is like snuggling up with a little old lady.

It’s not quite what I think of when I think of "alternative press" but it definitely is a unique voice in alt.weeklies, I’ll grant you that.

Anyway, I was just writing to see if you wanted to go out for brunch on Sunday.  I think that’s what grandmothers like to do and I’d hate for you to think that I was being negligent.

Love,

Aunt B.

4 thoughts on “An Open Letter to the Nashville Scene

  1. Once again, I cry: Marry me, B. Or at least let’s go to the Mothership and smooch and act shamefully.Lord have mercy. I got suspicious when I realized the Mrs. Ferrier was already doing columns on poop and farts and "these teen-agers today." Maybe she’ll include a good bran muffin recipe next time, just to keep us all regular.

  2. It’s funny… (wait for it) …because it’s true!!! BWHA!!!Seriously funny. I just finished reading the Scene this morning.

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