The Turtles at the Mother Church

There were a million reasons not to go see Trampled by Turtles at the Ryman last night.  

My buddy, Mike Matteson, had to bail on me.  I am under the weather, plagued by my annual sinus infection, and just started a round of steroids and antibiotics.  Too much work to do, with a 3-day mediation starting on Monday.  And I was tired, after attending an 8 a.m. soccer game and coaching a baseball doubleheader for Joe.  

One of the advantages of living so close to downtown Nashville is that I can drive there in 5 minutes, find parking, and walk into the Ryman for a concert or Bridgestone Arena for a Predators' game in no time flat.  So, that's what I did last night.

Also, I made a vow to myself when I missed Tom Petty's last Nashville show before he died that I wouldn't miss any more shows I wanted to see, so that was in the back of my mind, as well.

It would have been easy to eat the tickets and the take the night off but I'm damn glad I didn't.

Trampled by Turtles is a special band to me.  As I've written in this space before, it was the first band I loved that Joe loved, as well.  He and used to listen to "Stars and Satellites," a 2002 album by TBT, over and over again.  

I have memories of Joe, Carley, and I listening to it on my old, original iPad that plugged into a portable iPad speaker, in the kitchen of our old house.  Joe, in his high chair eating breakfast, while Carly and I chatted before I left for work.  It was a time of real innocence, as I look back.  The days passed more slowly then, when the boys were so young, or so it seems to me now.

Many, many Saturday or Sunday afternoons, I packed Joe and the City Elite in my Yukon Denali, played "Stars and Satellites," and Joe fell asleep singing along to the second song, "Alone."  Then, I'd park outside Bongo Java on Belmont Boulevard, unpack the stroller, transfer Joe into it, and off we'd go for a walk.  We'd finish with coffee for me and milk for him, at Bongo Java.

Trampled by Turtles was his band and it was my band, too.

In November 2013, a few months before Joe turned two, I saw Trampled by Turtles at Marathon Music Works.  I went by myself to what, as it turns out, is the only show I've ever seen at that particular venue.  It was crowded but by the time TBT started playing, I'd slithered through the crowd of fans mostly younger than me, and I was standing in the front row.  I remained there for the entire show, smiling, dancing, and singing along to TBT's unique blend of hopped up bluegrass, country, and Americana music. 

I've seen Trampled by Turtles at Bonnaroo multiple times, too.  Last year, in what was my first cancert since the pandemic started, Mike, Doug, and I saw TBT play outside at the amphitheater at the Caverns in Pelham, Tennessee.  That was a memorable night, perfect in many ways.

Last night, I had seats on the main floor of the Ryman - section 5, row Q, dead center.  Great seats.  Since Mike couldn't make it, I had two seats to myself, which allowed me to comfortable spread out a bit.  Sometimes, in a crowd, sitting on the church pews at the Mother Church for two plus hours can get uncomfortable, particularly if you're packed in tightly.  No such worries last night.

As I watched the band play, I realized it was my first concert, inside, since the pandemic arrived in March 2020.  As I looked around the Ryman and watched people dancing, singing, laughing, or just bobbing their heads in time to the music, I was struck by an appreciation of the communal aspect of music.  People need this, I thought.  At church, singing along with the church choir, or at the Ryman - the Mother Church - singing along with the band and each other.

Humans are social creatures.  We have an inherent need to share experiences with each other, even with complete strangers.  I know I need that but I think most people do, as well.  Church, a sporting event, a move at a movie theater, or a concert.  

There was an energy in the Ryman last night that it felt good to be a part of.  I'm glad I went to see Trampled by Turtles - again - and I can't wait to catch them down the road again in the not too distant future.