Knoxville back to Nashville

Hello All,

Celebrity blog post here from none other than the lovable half-caste, dana. Quilt if you will. So I will fill you in as to what happened with our night out in Nashville, when we welcomed our very own sickboy to the country – god only knows how he cleared customs.

We disembarked from Knoxville on the afternoon of the 23rd after a hearty bout of laser tag and some delicious burritos from Salsaritas. As far as the laser tag went, a highlight for myself was teaching these boys a few free lessons, not to mention listening to the fuming wonder-doctor at the end of the game explaining how much he wanted to pistol-whip some annoying 12 year-old who beat him.

We loaded into the Trailblazer for the 2 and a half hour drive back to Nashville to meet Cleland. I have no idea how, but we managed to keep my presence here the USofA a secret. I decided to hang in the car while the boys went to pick him up and very unsuccessfully tried to duck my head under the window (ostrich style – if I cant see them then they cant see me) upon their reappearance at the car. Nonetheless, I jumped out of the car and the sickdoc was surprised at the general event. We proceeded to go and find a hotel for the night before our antics were to begin. After passing the airport for the 3rd time we managed to track down a Best Western in downtown Nashville and checked in for four boys with two double beds (heads were turned). I was there on the premise that I was the tour guide so they were alright.
After some Bud Lights in the room (and I agree with Dooges – they are in fact no different from sex in a canoe), we descended upon the honkytonks and sports bars of downtown Nashville. On first viewing, it appeared that Nashville on a Tuesday right before Christmas was dead -hardly anyone around. We asked a few people and, despite some chants by a select few of us, we unfortunately did not end up at hooters for dinner. Rather a sports bar down the road served as our launching point for the night.

After a hearty meal (Mac had a salad), we headed back up to the strip to hit up a bar called the Stage. Seemed like a real good time southern country music Honkytonk, though a little quiet for our tastes. After we had a few beers there, we headed across the street and I think we can all agree that this is where the night really began.

The bar was called the Big Bang and they boasted a big banner in the window advertising duelling pianos. Not really knowing what to expect we climbed the stairs to see two pianos facing each other and about 30 or so people sitting around them. We soon realized that this place worked through song requests and the two dudes playing piano had a bloody impressive repertoire. Immediately loving this idea we began to request everything from the Hey Jude to Free Fallin’, all accompanied with the standard $1 tip. This was well within the realm of possibility as the piano guys busted out with some Eminem and Michael Jackson along the way – so they were up to any request we had to throw at them. We had joined up with a group of locals at this stage and this is where the wonder doc decided to prescribe some Advance Australia Fair on his request sheet - and slipping an extra $4 along with it to make sure it got noticed (apparently doctors can get away with anything). Needless to say, this was a ridiculous demand and we all made sure he heard about it, but more about this later. Thing then took a turn for the worse as Mac was taught 4 locals how to dance like a true gypsy greyhound with his patented dance move – the shoulder roll. The trip had plunged new depths of embarrassment.
Before long, after some punishing attempts at the “Aussie Aussie Aussie” from the dudes on the stage, we were being called onto the stage to regale the audience with Advance Australia Fair as per Wonders’ ridiculous request. Naturally the piano men were assured that Carl was able to play it on piano while we sang – needless to say that of the five of us, Marv has the least musical ability – somewhere between Helen Keller and a drunk aardvark. Once they realized that Mac couldn’t play chopsticks if his life depended on it, he was relegated to join us as they started up some good-ole aussie Acca Dacca while the five of us belted to the rafters. Unfortunately, only Jez and myself knew the words so the others’ singing consisted of oooooaarrrberrrsheerrrtraaaaaapssssseeerrrshep –SHOOK ME ALLLLLLLL NIGHTTTTTT LOOOONNGGGGGGG!!!!!. And then followed my personal favourite point in the evening - Buzz attempting to shake hands with the blind piano player as we left the stage. For a few moments he thought the old dude was barring him only before coming to his drunken senses.

Realizing that they could never top our performance, the bar soon closed and we headed across the street back to the Stage bar. At this stage (no pun intended), the place had livened up a bit. Following a few cheeky dances, a “JD and coke” with Mac and some locals, and doctor Wonders being accused of being a dirty liar on every front, we headed back to the hotel at closing time. Nick promptly passed out in a drunken stupor in all his clothes on top of all the quilts (and no I don’t mean me). He then gave us an encore musical performance with some snoring that even monty could be proud of. We all passed out in due time before enjoying a well and truly hungover ride back to Knoxville the next morning. Day Carl did not approve.
And with that I leave you. It was short but sweet and I wish the boys the best of luck with the rest of the trip, and I am happy to post bail for one, or all, of them when (not “if”) the time comes.

Dana