It seems like I’m always about a year ahead of the rest of the world when it comes to Nashville’s parks. Mrs. Wigglebottom and I enjoyed Shelby Bottoms until it got too crowded for our tastes. We enjoyed Percy Warner until it got too crowded and full of unleashed dogs for our tastes. And this morning, we drove over to Bell’s Bend.
What can I tell you to convince you to stay away?
Um. It smells bad. It’s ugly. It’s hard to find. There’s no parking. There’s nothing to look at once you get there. No beautiful views a girl and her dog can enjoy, even if they’re just meandering around a small loop to stretch their legs and try out a new knee. There are not picnic tables where you could have lunch overlooking beautiful fields slowly turning all kinds of shades of faded colors.
It’s terrible. Terrible. Never go there.
Leave it to Mrs. Wigglebottom and me. We’re willing to sacrifice our own happiness to save yours.
Oh, I’m so excited Mrs. Wigglebottom got to go for a walk. She’s really been a trooper through this.
Why didn’t you go to Beaman Park? Closer to your crib.
Yes, but I already know for a fact that people go there. And it’s more vertical than I care for. Bells Bend is really perfect for me, relatively flat, beautiful, empty, which is why I want for the rest of Nashville to stay away.
I’ve been watching Barney for the last two goddamn hours.
All subtlety is lost on me.