CHAPEL HILL, N.C. — Now that I’ve made my peace with Columbia, S.C.’s 19th Century history, I wanted to say a few kind and redeeming things about the stay — because the two days I had there were genuinely a sweet and charming time.

When I rolled into Columbia, I knew jack-nothing of its history. Zip-zilch-nada. Just that the sports teams are called the Cocks. (Short for “Gamecocks.”)

Fortunately, the locals made sure I learned about a certain, less-suggestive pride point:

“Did you know South Carolina produces more peaches than all of Georgia?” a personalized, white-on-pink note in my room read. Continue reading →

COLUMBIA, S.C. — I’m having a really hard time finding the words I want to say about Columbia.

So let’s jump right into it:

Columbia, South Carolina, was the early heart of the Confederacy — a period of American history (or treason) I look back on with much contempt. Continue reading →

Photo Caption: Marion Greenwood’s “The History of Tennessee” mural hangs in the Knoxville Museum of Art on Saturday, July 17. The painting has been a flashpoint of conversation and controversy as to the depiction of African Americans and their contributions to Tennessee history.

COLUMBIA, S.C. — Before I get started with this next post, I want to give a sincere thank-you to everyone who’s still reading along here and following my road trip.

I get that, with me writing a big post nearly every day, it’s a lot to follow. That’s the other side of me bragging about nearing 30,000 words — inevitably, the more I write, the harder it’s going to be for people to catch up. (Even my best friends are a few posts behind.)

So thanks for the support. I’m feeling a bit discouraged this Monday morning as the view count has steadily dropped, and my energy has been harder to find as I near Week 4 of the journey.

But I have to remember that I’m here to write for me, and that’s what I’m going to keep doing — I appreciate anyone who still makes time in their daily lives to make room for my drivel.

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Bloomington and Knoxville: Long-lost Cousins?

I couldn’t help but draw parallels between Knoxville, Tenn., and my hometown of Bloomington, Ind. Continue reading →

KNOXVILLE, Tenn. — Anywhere I go, whether it be down the block from my bedroom or miles far away from home, I usually end up talking about one of the things I love best: professional wrestling.

So when a polite couple invited me to join their patio table last night at Cool Beans Bar & Grill, we ended up talking about on wrestler in particular:

The mayor.

Glenn Jacobs, better known to the wrestling community as the demonic “Kane,” has served as the mayor of Knox County since 2018. Continue reading →

KNOXVILLE, Tenn. — Before I start making new memories here in Volunteer Land, I still have a few more thoughts on Nashville I want to get out.

They don’t have any particular theme or commonality, so I’ve decided to address all my final thoughts in the form of an imaginary interview with myself.

Like such:

Q: Say Moose, that’s a really good idea.

A: Thank you! We thought of it ourself.

Q: So, I’m sure the people want to know, did your impression of Nashville, Tenn., change after visiting?

A: Absolutely. Before I even stepped foot into Music City, I was mentally planning some sort of “oh wow, I really don’t know how I’m gonna stand all this country music” confession post, but the fact of the matter is this: Nashville is fully behind any and all music.

Country music obviously has the local flavor and heritage, as it came from the region, but Nashville has a rich history of hosting rock, R&B, soul, pop music, Motown, rap, hip-hop, electronica, the blues, etc. As Cameo famously sang in “Word Up:” If there’s music, we can use it — we need to dance.

Q: …In that song, his next line is that ‘we don’t have the time for psychological romance?‘

A: That’s right. Where’s the lie?

Q: Moving on. Did you try the famous Nashville Hot Chicken?

A: I did! I had thoughts about trying Prince’s, which our tour guide said was the place that started the whole local hot chicken thing, but I ended up settling on Hattie B’s because it’s the one every tourist who compares cities can recite, ala Lou Malnati’s (Chicago-style pizza) or Pat’s/Geno’s (Philly cheese steaks).

I even got the hot sandwich at standard “hot” spiciness to experience the real-deal. As mentioned in my birthday post, even medium-heat Indian food makes me melt and sweat. Hattie B’s was no exception, but I really liked it. It was less of an “acid chemical heat” and more of a “rich seasoning heat,” which is the same reason I’m drawn to Indian food but not like, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.

My experience also came after spending the whole day walking around downtown, so I was starved by the time the sandwich finally got to me around 9:45 p.m. I don’t even like cole slaw, but I dumped part of it on the sandwich to get things cooled down, and that make the experience much, much better.

I won’t bullshit you: I’m not a tremendously educated foodie. I’m a simple guy who likes good food and can utter out a few noises as to why.

Hattie B’s hot chicken is something I’d love to have after a long day at the pool. Maybe as a late-night drunk meal. Getting the (great, zippy) potato salad as a side was another way to reduce the sandwich’s heat.

The chicken was big and juicy, too. Lots of food in addition to the “hot” gimmick. A solid time all around. Glad I stopped by.

Q: Do you think you’ll eat cole slaw by itself any time soon?

A: (Grabs microphone and puts it in mouth) No.

Q: Was there any aspect of Nashville that was totally predictable or otherwise exactly what you thought it would be?

A: The idolization of Dolly Parton is everywhere, but the place seems to hold up Minnie Pearl and Willie Nelson in the same regard. Maybe Johnny Cash or any other members of the Million-Dollar Quartet. If you were on Hee-Haw or Grand Ole Opry, you reach divination status in some form. There was a big ovation for Garth Brooks when he was mentioned on the tour bus, so I’ll count him too.

The tour guide also spoke highly about Eddie George and the late Steve McNair, the two Tennessee Titans fans most respect, so put that in your pocket if you need to chat 1990’s AFC football to anyone (or everyone).

Someone on Twitter also called Nashville “the unofficial bachelorette party capital of the world,” and I saw at least 5 in process just during my time around the hotel. The new trend, apparently, is to put your Venmo handle on the back of a massive SUV and ask folks to “buy the bride a shot.”

Q: Have you gained any road trip secrets this time around?

A: Use a local parking app instead of the hotel’s option, or at least check the neighborhood when you get there before giving up and paying premium prices — odds are, if the hotel is using a valet service, there’s cheaper local parking, but you have to find it yourself.

Here’s how my fate has fared in each city so far, compared to the what the nearby hotel charges:

• IOWA CITY: Parked in Graduate’s lot; validated due to ongoing construction
• MADISON: Parked 1.5 blocks north in a city garage; saved $46
• EVANSTON: Parked 1.5 blocks west in a city garage; saved $48
• BLOOMINGTON: Parked at my house (kind of cheating, but not really); saved $60
• NASHVILLE: Parked 1.5 blocks southwest via SpotHero; saved $90
• KNOXVILLE: Parked 2 blocks west by finding a municipal cheap lot app; in the process of saving $45

So far, this means I’ve been able to save a whopping $289 (before tax and tip!) to apply towards my travels. Three-hundred dollars is three-hundred dollars.

Don’t get me wrong — the valets at each location have been friendly and on-the-money everywhere I’ve gone. But I don’t mind spending an extra 20 minutes doing it myself if it means saving that much dough.

Q: Is there anything you regret not getting to do in Nashville?

A: Absolutely. My buddy Sveta who used to live in Nashville and used to work as a professional sommelier/wine server/local food extraordinaire, gave me some really tempting options to try, but I could only muster my fly-by-night bus tour and a few other quick-trip jaunts.

Here’s what she recommended, if you find yourself in Nashville:

“Henrietta Red has a great menu and wines, Attaboy is a speakeasy type place for a great pricey cocktail, and I really love Bastion (they have a tasting menu and a casual bar with good cocktails and nachos). For dive-y places, depends on how dive-y you want it. Dino’s was my go-to for drinking beer out of plastic cups and having a burg. There’s a place called Springwater Supper Club that’s like the oldest bar in the city I think? They’re beer-only and are right next to the Parthenon.”

(Thanks Sveta!)

Q: Would you ultimately go to Nashville again?

A: Absolutely. It’s a bit expensive, but not unlike any other major U.S. city. It seems like Las Vegas, if it were a little more suburb-aware and less “desert magic.” I’d really like to pop down there for a concert or Packers-Titans game at some point. But that will have to be a trip for another day.

Q: We’re in Knoxville now, yeah? Safe and sound?

A: Ah damn. Yeah. That’s right.We’d better get to seeing some stuff.

Until next time folks, thanks for reading.

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-moose

KNOXVILLE, Tenn. — One of the unfortunate downsides about cramming so much travel into my schedule is that I frequently find myself pinched on time to actually “see” each location — especially the bigger cities.

So on Wednesday, when I only had about a few spare hours with which to actually get out of my room and see Nashville, Tenn., I chose to sign up for one of those token rooftop bus tours and hope for the best (well, the “best” that $39.50 can get you).

I’ll be honest with you: I always feel weird about tour-guided vehicle trips like these. There’s a lot of social implications at play between the tourist and the daily citizens they observe: You’re on vacation (and they are at work). You’re from out of town (and they are stuck behind your bus). Firetrucks and ambulances are screaming through every intersection because someone is about to die, God-damn-it, and you’re on a big dumbass double-decker bus trying to get an ironic picture of Kid Rock’s Big Ass Honky-Tonk Rock N’ Roll Steakhouse. You’re being chauffeured through city in a double-decker, 120-seat convertible while an open mic emcee reads you fun facts about just how much this unprecedently posh apartment costs while unhoused people are sleeping on the sidewalk below.

The tour itself begins about 1,000 feet from where a car bomb infamously exploded in downtown Nashville on Christmas Day of last year.

It’s a lot, man. Continue reading →

NASHVILLE, Tenn. — Greetings from The Volunteer State. I’m back on the road.

Between checking into the hotel approximately one-hour late into my 43-hour stay, leaving me a solid 42 to “see it all.” And then I wrote yesterday’s departure of a piece, where I flipped the tables on Bloomington and grilled its ugly side.

I’m tired. I’m drained. My serotonin bank got robbed by a lengthy birthday weekend.

But I have to keep going. I’m about to spend my Wednesday evening in taking in as much of actual downtown Nashville as I can.

But as for the Graduate Nashville? It’s an unapologetic, 12-story shrine to Dolly Parton, the color pink, advertising, and of course, music. I’m about to hope out of the hotel room and go see downtown itself, but you should take a moment to get a load of this sexy hotel along West End Street, which feeds into Broadway. This may be the wildest place I’ve ever stayed.

Enjoy.

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-moose

NASHVILLE, Tenn. — Since the whole point of this Hall Pass journey has been to travel to new places, explore the campus/city, and report back with my findings, what exactly am I supposed to say about spending a weekend in my hometown of Bloomington, Ind.?

With most of these destinations, I’m staying 48 or 72 hours tops, then getting out alive with a story to tell. But I’ve lived in Bloomington for 12 years now: I’m beyond the honeymoon stage. (I may very well be in the “divorce” stage.)

I can’t (and won’t) pretend to write my usual, cheeky “oh, how quaint” story about B-Town from an outsider’s perspective. It would be a farce. I’d be kidding myself, and most importantly, I’d be cheating you out of an honest review. Continue reading →

BLOOMINGTON, Ind. — It was a weird 31st birthday. But what else could I expect from a bizarre trip like this?

You know, thirty-one is a prime number, and I’d like to think I’m having a pretty prime birthday!

(No? Okay. Sorry.)

Here’s the rundown of what I’ve been up to since I arrived back home again in Indiana on Saturday morning:

Saturday

After departing Evanston, Ill. at 11 a.m. local, I rolled into my Hoosier hometown on Saturday evening, absolutely exhausted. I wolfed down two gas station roller bites (“carne queso” and “breakfast scrambler”) during the 5-hour drive to Bloomington, Ind., as well as a 12-ounce Red Bull and two 20-ounce Pepsi Zero Sugars (again: they have double caffeine).

That, along with not having showered in the 3 days prior, made me feel like the scummiest person alive. Continue reading →