Nashville: Alan Jackson, Fried Corn, Van Morrison

"I'm bikesick," says Tom. "HUGGAHWA!"

It's official. Next time I leave the cat at home. It wouldn't be so bad, except we're right outside the gates of Alan Jackson's multi-million dollar estate. If he comes out in his Ford pickup, I don't know how to explain this.

Other than that, my early-morning 18 mile bike ride went well. Not painful at all! I followed the so-called "Alan Jackson Route", mapped out by the Harpeth Bike Club, and passing over the old Natchez Parkway and between thoroughbred farms. Gorgeous! I met about 5 bikers taking the same path.

After the ride, I made tracks up to Wendell Smith's Restaurant on the West Side. Wendell's is a "meat-and-three", meaning "pick a meat and three sides for one price." This is uniquely Nashville cuisine. I had meat loaf that was sooooo good, plus turnip greens, pinto beans, fried corn, cornbread, and a wedge of caramel pie for dessert. Nothing was vegetarian. Not even the vegetables were vegetarian! The fried corn actually looked like creamed corn, but the corn itself was crisp and fresh and the sauce was heavenly.

I asked the waitress why it was called fried corn. "Ah don't know," she said, "and they won't tell me neither."

That set me for both lunch and dinner. I chilled in Richardson park awhile. As I sat on the bench reading, I saw the playground across the way. I briefly considered taking a picture there, having one of the kids hold up Tom.

Then I thought, OK ... a stranger comes up to you, holds out a stuffed animal and asks to take your picture. It's the plot of a movie you saw at a grade school assembly. You know, the one where the policeman says "Don't let this happen to YOU!"

It was twilight, and I headed for the Lipstick Lounge, voted the Funnest Bar in Nashville. And so it was! The LL started as a lesbian bar a few years ago, but as the manager tells it, "Everybody started inviting everybody else." Now it's tagged the Nashville Bar Catering Exclusively to Human Beings. There were people of every orientation, size, color, and shape around me, and it was fantastic. It felt like Art class.

Christy (above, first on left) was the barkeep that night, she being the inventor of Nashville's current most popular drink, the "Pink Panty Pulldown." I vowed to have one later and started with a blue martini. That was so good, I just kept ordering them. Tuesday is Music Trivia night, so I joined the team above (and I have forgotten all their names - thanks, Blue Martini!) My Van Morrison knowledge came in handy, and we won second place.

Making my way out, I pulled Tom and my camera out of the backpack. "Hey! That's Tom!" my teammate said. "You bet your sweet bippy," said Tom, but his voice was drowned out by the karaoke machine.

And so, I bid a fond adieu to Nashville. Next stop, Clarksdale. Blues Central.