It all seemed so straightforward at first. “Free lessons for newcomers.” “Come check out the dance studio.” For some reason the National Dance Clubs at Belle Meade doesn’t advertise “The Most Awkward Situation of Your New Life in Nashville.”
Don’t believe me? Keep reading (or check out these three CitySearchreviews).
In the beginning
When we first arrived at National Dance Clubs we were greeted by an extremely friendly and warm dance instructor. In fact, we were pretty unprepared for the atmosphere at the studio, and, having planned to play tennis afterward, we were pretty under dressed. Despite our embarrassment, our instructor made us feel exceedingly welcome. We did some very basic preparations, nothing much compared with other places I’ve been, and our instructor emphasized the importance of nailing the fundamentals. While I personally felt we could have progressed a touch quicker, hey, they’re the experts. And we were having fun…
Then came the “mini-sell”
Before we’d had much of a chance to enjoy our two free lessons, our instructor moved in quickly to convince us to sign up for a block of six additional sessions. She was slick about it, coupled with the fact that we, like many couples, “have always wanted to take dance lessons, but never had the time,” so we said, “Let’s do this.” It was a hefty chunk of change, especially for so few lessons. But it came with a number of additional events (at which the main attraction was an open bar). So if you don’t feel like you’re dancing your money’s worth, you can be darn sure that you can drink it.
The fun...
The next four to five lessons were great - no complaints there. Our instructor was both professional and fun, and we had a blast learning the basic steps to the waltz, rumba, push/pull, tango and foxtrot.
The hard sell...
Now this is equal parts art and science and it spanned two sessions. Here’s the breakdown, as best as I can remember it:
The Questionnaire
During our second to last private lesson our instructor had us fill out a 74-question worksheet (slight exaggeration) with some real brain-busters ("I enjoy dancing - Y/N” or “I would like to dance for fitness - Y/N"). Basically, they stack it full of items that no normal person would answer no to, and then use those answers later to overcome your objections to paying for more lessons. ("What? You don’t want to keep dancing with us? Now, you said ‘I would like to learn to dance.’ Now how do you expect to do that without lessons?")
The Notebook
On the second night our instructor pulls out a hand-written, color-coded notebook with all of our statements from the previous night. She picked it up off a table, hopped over to us, and exclaimed, “Ta-da!!!” She beamed as she showed off what she had created, but then issued a stern warning that it all depended on whether or not her boss would “approve us” for social ease classes, the next level of dance instruction. (At this point, no one has asked us yet if we are interested in continuing dance lessons, or even mentioned how much they cost.) The awkwardness builds...
The Approval
So, we walk into the boss hog’s office, present him our folder and politely ask him if he would approve us for social ease classes. He hesitates, looks us over, and says sure. We walk out, hit the music and assume proper posture. We begin to dance. Two beats later. “OK,” he says. “I’ve seen enough. You’re ready. The question is, on a scale of one to ten, how badly do you want to dance?” My wife and I look at each other. “Well, I’m a teacher, so I’m inherently a tough grader. I’d say a six,” she says.
Back in the office…
Essentially, both our instructor and the main boss are unphased by what I thought was a pretty good answer by my wife. Sitting across the desk from the manager, he goes over what all we will receive for the 17th time before guardedly scribbling some numbers on a piece of paper. “Ten private lessons, ten group lessons, all of the functions, plus all access to the dance studio,” he says, and slowly slides the paper toward us. We look down.
$1,800
$1,800? We practically burst out laughing. “I had thought our second round of lessons might be a bit out of our price range,” I start, “but this, this is way, way out of our price range.”
“We need to pay a mortgage,” my wife adds.
They insist. They plead. They persist. They’ll lower the price to $1,650 if we pay right now.
“I can count on one hand,” the manager says, “the people who say they’ll come back and continue lessons, and then actually do.”
“And you know what?” my wife counters. “We’re one of those people. So if we have any interest, we’ll let you know. But right now, we can’t.”
The moral of the story...
The National Dance Clubs at Belle Meade is stacked with professional dancers. They’ll teach you how to dance, and it’ll be a good time. But they’re a business, and as such, they need to keep the lights on. They’re going to hard sell you, and it’s going to be awkward. I’ve often joked that I have a pretty high tolerance for awkward situations, much higher than friends and family, so while I think the whole situation was kind of funny, I’m OK with it. After reading our story, you need to make up your own mind. Newcomers beware…
(A look over the Richland Park Greenway in West Nashville.)
Although I’ve written up the Greenways in Nashville before, and been on a bit of a nature kick recently, I needed to post this picture from the Richland Creek Greenway in West Nashville. Definitely check it out if you get a chance.
(Radnor Lake, approximately 7 miles south of downtown Nashville)
Two of the Music City’s little secrets (even to those who grew up here I’ve found) are these two enormous parks. Radnor Lake (1200 acres) and Percy Warner Park (2684 acres) both reside officially within Nashville’s city limits, and offer some beautiful views and welcome respite from urban living.
Before you go...
Take a look at the park rules at Radnor Lake. This state park is a designated natural area, and therefore jogging, biking on trails and picnicking are strictly prohibited (and come with a hefty fine, as I understand it). At Percy Warner, on the other hand, we saw at least two dozen iPod-equipped runners, plus a handful of fully decked out cyclists on the six-mile loop we walked.
I saw this item when researching how to make homemade Spaetzle* online last night. Looks funny, right?
It’s not. Read on...
I attempted to make this southern German specialty last evening, but lacked this basic culinary tool: the Spaetzle Wizard. After perusing what appeared to be highly reputable recipe sites, I found a recurring substitute mentioned in many of the instructions. Simply scoop the Spaetzle batter into a slotted spoon, then push it through using the back of a regular spoon into the pot of boiling water.
Easy, right?
It was a disaster.
Instead of the small, knobbly yet distinct Spaetzle I’m accustomed to finding in authentic German restaurants (such as Gerst Haus for those here in Nashville), I was left with unshapely gobs.
Don’t get me wrong, it still tasted fine. But I’m taking a second look at that Spaetzle Hex.
Random, I know, but I had to get it off my chest.
*For you deutschspraechigen Leute, I apologize for the lack of umlauts. I’m just too lazy to copy and paste or learn the shortcut for them.
Redundancy aside, this is by far my favorite Southern-ism. Almost always used in a helpful, constructive context. For example:
“I’m experiencing difficulty slicing onions.”
“Hmm...well, you might could try wearing glasses. Always works for me!”
2. “Used to could”
Pronounced: (yOOzd tu kood) - v.
Defined: was once able.
A slight variation on “might could” (see above) and normally used to lament a lost skill, or inability, such as:
“I can’t dunk a basketball, but I used to could.”
3. “Bless your heart.”
Pronounced: (bles yur härt)
Defined: You’re so stupid.
Used primarily to soften the blow in polite company when someone has, through a question or statement, revealed their ignorance on a certain matter. Especially appropriate when giving “out-of-towners” directions, such as:
“Excuse me, do you happen to know where the Ryman Theater is?”
”Bless your heart, it’s right around the corner from here up on 5th Avenue.”
Bonus - “Ornery as a cat turd”
Pronounced: (ôr’nu-rē az uh kat tûrd)
Defined: ???
Ok, I actually have no idea what this means, and, to be fair, I heard this one down in Florida. But hey, I’ll never forget it, and it’s a chance to tell the story.
While working on a volunteer trip near Arcadia, Florida, a few friends and I stopped by an orange grove to ask if we could buy some oranges. We were met by your stereotypical, grizzled, old, overalls-wearing farmer-type. As I approached the front gate, his dog ran out toward out group, barking wildly. He then quickly yelled out, “Oh, don’t worry about him. He’s as ornery as a cat turd.”
In any case, not only did he give us more oranges then we knew what to do with, he refused to charge us a penny, and we got quite the tour of his land. I’ll never forget that saying though…
I just signed up for Nashville Startup Weekend, a weekend where “Nashville entrepreneurs, visionaries, and workaholics believe they can build/launch a company in one weekend.”
There are a number of ways to sign up (as a developer, in legal, P.R., business development, etc.). There was no spot for a “new media journalist,” so I opted for designer. I hope those spots aren’t set in stone.
If you’re in Nashville and have an entrepreneurial spirit, I’d say go for it.
What
Nashville Startup Weekend
When
Oct. 10-12
Where
Vanderbilt’s Owen Graduate School of Management
I even witnessed a gas run. Cars followed a gas truck to a Shell station. More descended upon the Shell on White Bridge Road like locusts. Traffic backed up for a mile. Within an hour, the Shell was left desolate as before and, you guessed it, completely out of gas. Relax people!
Gov. Phil Bredesen issued a statement on Friday afternoon saying the pipeline to Nashville, which had been full only sporadically since Hurricane Ike hit Texas, was running at full capacity.
But Bly said that if people are panic-buying and constantly topping off their tanks that could put a strain on supply even under normal conditions.
2. Nashville loves its Chick-fil-A
I drove by the Chick-fil-A in Cool Springs about a week ago.
There was a police officer directing traffic in their drive-through lane.
That’s one I wish I had video of.
3. Nashville does not know how to merge.
This one is a lesson I’ve learned from my daily 20-minute commute from West Nashville to Cool Springs.
For some reason, Nashville drivers believe the best way to merge onto 440 from 40, or 65 from 40, is by coming to a complete stop, putting on their blinker, and looking over their shoulder to make sure there’s a break in the 70-mph traffic to their left - a strategy that is, at best, flawed.
I’ve already written about how great Nashville’s Greenways are. Well, this weekend we had some family in town so we rode bike along the Downtown Greenway then through downtown. I highly recommend.
You can start as far north as the Metro Center Levee, but we went ahead and parked at Bicentennial Mall. From there it’s just 1.5 miles to LP Field, but if you go early enough on a Saturday you can bike through downtown without worrying about traffic.
I went wine tasting a few weeks ago at the Century Farm Winery in Jackson, TN (try the blackberry dessert wine - amazing) and learned a few tricks from owner and operator (alongside his wife) Carl O’Cain. Here’s a 30-second video I shot of him explaining it on my LG Dare - of which I was a bit bummed on the quality, but hey, what can you expect?
(Here’s O’Cain’s breakdown off camera).
1. Sniff
Get your nose right down in there and smell the wine.
2. Swirl
Let the air get right down there and help boost the flavor.
3a. Sip and Suck (my preferred method)
Get a little bit on your tongue. Pucker your lips as if to whistle, then gently suck a bit of air in your mouth and over the wine resting inside. I was amazed at what that did to the flavor.
3b. Slurp
Suck the air and the wine into your mouth all at the same time. As you can see from the video above, I’m not all that good at either. (Or I’d been tasting for too long). Thanks Carl!
Here’s the product review I wish I’d read before buying the “Over-the-Door” Mirror: do not purchase this product. It may tempt you from the clearance aisles of Bed, Bath & Beyond, but trust me, even for $19.99 it’s not worth the aggravation.
Check out this installation diagram
Looks simple, right? Only problem is that the surface onto which you’re supposed to screwing this hangers is 1/4 inch thing lip of plastic, and it’s hidden under a surface of thin cardboard unmarked. Err to the left and you completely miss; miss to the right and you crack the mirror completely (which I did).
Now, I consider myself a reasonably handy man (I can install a ceiling fan, patch a wall, replace a few shingles, etc.) and it’s taken me two hours and three trips to Bed, Bath & Beyond to figure out this mirror - not a good sign.
Anyone know of a one-stop product review Web site I can post this (hopefully valuable) critique?
New to Nashville chronicles my thoughts and tips as I stumble my way through the Music City. Feel free to comment with questions or concerns, or e-mail me at newbie at nashville dot net.
.jpg)
.jpg)
![](http://assets3.twitter.com/images/twitter.png?1219267514")
