Musician's Widow

Today, I had to go renew the tags on my truck. It’s a yearly task that I just really don’t like to go do. For one thing, its one more thing to attempt to budget into my expenses (which never really happens, but I’m trying). For another, it always ends up taking a lot of time out of my day. So, I embarked on my task with a bit of a grumpy attitude already.

Sitting in line for emissions testing

First stop, emissions testing. Growing up in small-town Texas, this was not a task I had to do before moving to Nashville. (Instead I had to do a state inspection, which is far more involved but it’s not a part of getting tags.) Of course, I pick the lane taking the longest to go through.  I amuse myself with Twitter while I wait… okay, I whine on Twitter while I wait.

Wouldn’t you know, though, that I get up to the front of the line and it takes my truck maybe a minute to be done. Made me shake my head to myself. Wait half an hour for the four cars ahead of me, only to fly through myself. But, hey, it was done and I was free to go.

Off I went to the county clerk’s office to get my tags. Only problem: I found the closest clerk’s office boarded up! What? I just drove by a couple weeks ago and they were there…

Understand, I am big on details. I like to have everything laid out ahead of time. I had the exact amount for my tags figured and the check written. I had all my paper work paper clipped in my passenger seat. I had planned this all down to the most minute detail. But I DIDN’T KNOW THE CLERK’S OFFICE MOVED!

So, I quickly found a parking lot to pull into, and I pulled out my handy-dandy Droid Incredible phone. I quickly Googled the clerk’s office and found in the bottom corner their new address. I copy and pasted it into my Navigator, and off I went to the new location, which just so happened to be a block from the vehicle emissions testing location.

Only, the address I had didn’t take me to the clerk’s office. It took me the National Guard!  I drove all around there, and I never could find the clerk’s office! I wasted a good 45 minutes just looking for an office that I’m not sure exists any more. I was annoyed and flustered by this time. (I’ve since looked the address up again and got the same location as my phone took me to. I’m so confused!)

I found another place to pull over, and I mapped my way to the clerk’s office the next town over.  Over 20 minutes away, and I knew the office closed in 30 minutes. Any traffic hang-ups and I’d be left out to dry for the day.

But, I went for it. I’d spent all this time on this task already, I might as well finish it. So off I went.  My Navigator took me right to the front door of the office, and I got in line to go drive-thru for renewals. I was about seven cars back from the window… and the line wasn’t moving. I looked at the clock and weighed my options.

See… I’ve been in the drive-thru line at the clerks office at closing time, and they didn’t care that there were cars already there. When it was closing time, they closed the window and refused to serve anyone else. I did NOT want that to happen to me again. I decided to back out of the line and find somewhere to park. Surely they wouldn’t throw me out physically if I got in the door before they closed.

I grabbed my neatly paper clipped stack of papers and went inside. I almost didn’t believe my eyes. There were two ladies just sitting there without anyone at their windows. I walked right up, and since I had everything together I was done less than five minutes. I couldn’t help but turn to look at the drive-thru as I strolled to my truck. It hadn’t moved an inch! SCORE! Finally, something went right.

Of course, then I couldn’t find my way back out of town without my Navigator, and it did try to take me the wrong way down one-way streets. (But, I AM smart enough to not follow any GPS blindly.) Of course, this was the one time I didn’t pack my phone charger, so by the time I got home, my battery was dead right along with my nerves frazzled.  I didn’t even put the tags on my truck yet, because I figured with my luck today I’d end up slicing my finger trying to get the old tags off!

At least this is a task that I hate to do that is done for another year. And I am going to keep in mind that I need to double check addresses before I leave the house — even to places that I’ve been to before. You never know when they’ll have moved and you’ll end up chasing your own tail. It is just a waste of time, gas, and frustration.

I joked tonight that I’ve lived in Nashville too long when a movie being filmed outside my place of work annoyed me instead of leaving me excited. I say that about running into singers, actors, etc. as well because on a whole I really have just come to take it in stride. (Though I have to confess, George Strait made me totally freeze up and start stuttering and lose a great opportunity to possibly meet him, but some day maybe the chance will return. Doubtful. But maybe.)

I do think the whole Hollywood thing is pretty exciting. And there is a true mystique and fascination that exists around the whole TV and movie making process. I admit to getting wrapped up in it on occasion myself. Getting to participate in making the new Lee Ann Womack video was pretty incredible.

But twice in my life, Hollywood has made me throw my hands up in the air and want to scream in frustration.

My first Hollywood experience was actually in little ol’ Marlin , Texas, in 2005 when they used the Falls County Courthouse to film a lot of scenes for the movie Infamous whose cast included Sandra Bullock and Sigourney Weaver. I was working at the town’s newspaper at that time, and of course this was the biggest news to hit Marlin in probably almost 20 years. (Well, the biggest bit of positive news.)

They filmed inside the courthouse and outside the courthouse. For exterior scenes, they put out a call for classic cars to line the streets around the courthouse. To be honest, the cars got me more excited than the stars, but then that’s just how I roll.

Dawg.

Whatever.

On the afternoon that they filmed some of the exterior scenes, I went out to try to get a few photos for the next week’s issue. I was careful to stay OUT of the way, but before long I was sniffed out and scolded to not take any photos due to the need to keep things about the movie confidential. I could respect that fact up to a couple points. One point was the fact that Marlin is a small town that I doubt any entertainment reporters would be picking up our paper to sniff for things about the movie. The other point was the one in which they started to impede my ability to do MY job.

It took awhile, but I did finally get them to leave me alone enough to take pictures of the cars all around the square. One gentleman offered to let me sit in his car and watch from afar, which I gladly accepted as at that point I had to crouch down behind all these cars to stay out of view.

Eventually, the movie was done filming. We ran the photo I took of the cars in the paper. And life moved on…

I never did see the movie. It’s in my Amazon.com wishlist in case anyone cares to buy it for me.

Fast forward four years, and I had my second Hollywood experience. This time, Nashville, TN. Printer’s Alley. My job? Working in one of the bars in the Alley. The filming is going on in the bar next to the one at which I work, but it somewhat disrupts things in the whole Alley.

Now, understand, when I heard days ago about a movie being filmed in the Alley, I got excited about how much great PR this could mean for it. Perhaps seeing our Alley in a movie would bring visitors next year?

However, going into the night I was already in a bad mood, but it didn’t take long for the bad mood to sour further. I quickly felt like I couldn’t do my job properly lest I cause some sort of problem between “Quiet! Filming!” barks and worrying about how our band would be able to load in their gear. Ultimately, I wanted to do my job, while they did theirs, but struggled with how to do just that.

Again.

And I have to admit. That frustrated me. I believe my exact phrase was “Pain in the a–, huh?” to my husband as he pulled in to unload his gear to play.

I often get this exact same frustration from tourists who seem to forget that while Nashville is a tourism-centric city, it’s also home to many people. We’re happy to have you here. But please don’t stop us from living our lives; doing our jobs.

Chances are tomorrow night I’ll have my third experience, as apparently filming will be again occurring in the Alley. I don’t know if that will go into the night and overlap with my time there. But, the chance is there. And I can’t say that it excites me.

Call it a pessimistic approach to the experience if you want.

Me? I call it an experienced approach to it.

Because that’s how I roll.

Dawg.

Whatever.

I’m supposed to be good at this.

Then why am I sitting here going, “Okay, its time for him to come home?”

I guess I’m just out of practice? Or perhaps its the fact that its a long weekend, so his absence this weekend seems more poignant? Though I’ve spend my birthday alone before. Last year he left on Thanksgiving. This shouldn’t matter. Those weren’t big deals. This shouldn’t be.

No, I guess no matter how much of a “pro” I fancy myself, sometimes you just miss your spouse. And I do miss him more than usual right now. How will I be in a couple weeks when he’s out of the country!? Well… granted… I already have plans to look forward to during that time, so that’ll help. Different circumstances all the way around with that, really.

And really, that’s what it all comes down to. I told him the other day that, “Time passes slower here than it does where you are.” Meaning, he’s so busy that time flies by… whereas while I am busy doing things here at home, I’m still at home. And the time seems to drag by at times.

Perception. That’s a big thing that is hard to adjust for each side of an equation. In a lot of ways, this has been a short run. Heck, had he stayed with his last employer I would have hardly seen him this entire summer. So I am ultimately grateful, and I know he’ll be home in just over a day and a half.

I think myself a pro… but even pros have their moments.

Baby you need to come home
There’s a little bit of something me
In everything in you…

A downside of being a musician’s widow: home alone and sick.

Nashville being ranked 16th highest city for allergies, it stands to reason that my usual Spring allergy outbreak would be worse than normal. I’m miserable and taking care of myself. My husband took off on the road for the weekend, and I kissed him good bye at the airport with a sneeze and a sniffle.

Now, it is kind of nice to be able to sleep on the couch all day drugged up and not feel too bad about not taking care of your spouse since they are off doing what they need to do. But at the same time, it would be really nice to be babied while sick.

At least its not the first time I’ve battled allergies, and I know it won’t be the last. And… at least its just allergies and not something like the flu. I will survive!