Monday, May 17, 2010

Boots

I have returned from Nashville with a sense of pride. I'm proud of myself for not buying cowboy boots. For some uncanny reason being in Nashville made me want to buy a pair of boots that I'd never wear, not even if I was on a horse which is unlikely because I fucking hate horses. It almost seemed as though buying boots was an integral part of the whole Nashville experience, like dressing like one of the Village People would somehow make me a little bit honky tonk.

Honkey tonk is one of those things you might say out loud but boy does it look stupid written down, and it's written all over the place in Nashville. There are cool things to do in Nashville, there's Hatch Show Prints, a very unique print shop with a very distinct artistic style. Nashville also has one of the finest vintage guitar shops I've ever seen and the Ernest Tubbs record shop is like a shrine and gift shop all rolled up with a pretty good record shop. The bars on Broadway all have live music pouring out of them and the smell of BBQ is fantastic.

All of this conspired to drive me into a boot shop where the smell of leather is fantastic and earthy. To be honest though, cowboy boots just look retarded on the shelf, making one imagine how horrible they'd look on. I wear sneakers, maybe a dress shoe when I need to or hiking boots in the winter but 97% of the time it's sneakers. I would look and feel like a douchtard wearing big boots with a big heel. I left the shops on Broadway with nothing but a nice t-shirt, really proud of myself.

Happy to be up north now, away from chicken n' dumplings, Waffle Houses and overt friendliness that kind of gives me the heebie jeebies.

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