What a depressing place Nashville is, musically. I was in a bar listening to an unknown country band who was playing songs as good as anything on the country music charts today. The guitarist is playing rings around anything I'll ever be able to do in a thousand years. You could tell he was working on developing his chops - not trying to play something contextually related to the song. He must've been one of those guys written about in that song "Nashville Cats."

Anyway, at the end of their 45 minute set, the band passed around the jar to the thirty of us that were in there on an early Monday night, garnering perhaps $25 to be split among four people.