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Sweetness, light, and a lot of heavy syrup

Sweetness, light, and a lot of heavy syrup

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1997 Albies

Deep in the soul of this city, there lurks simple goodness. Basic decency. Common courtesy. Simple. Basic. Common. It is not a pretty picture.

Still, for those of you who want to play nice-nice, we present the 1997 Albies, named in honor of our publisher, Albie Del Favero, a man committed to preserving the Nashville he remembers—even if nobody else does.

Get out your handkerchiefs, and toss one back for Granny at Candyland because

You Are So Albie Nashville If...

...you stop and lend a hand, even to a total stranger. You say, “Hello, how are you doing” (and really want to know). I grew up outside of Tennessee and the first thing I noticed was the friendliness and helpful people. I do customer service and hear all the time how nice and polite (yes ma’am, no sir) we Southerners are. It’s true!!

...you can remember Shelby Park as a “family setting”: Paddle boats, feeding the ducks, banana popsicles, safe playgrounds, laughter. Let’s bring that back—my parents practically grew up there!

...you remember when you could climb the iron steps at the Capitol and go up in the steeple and sit down.

...you still think it’s a shame what they’ve done to the Belle Meade Theater.

...you take Nashville as it is—good or bad.

...you remember when the old Sam Davis hotel was about the tallest building in town, and you could not see it if you were two blocks away for all the smoke and soot flying in the air in the mornings.

...you love God, country music, city and country, symphonies, plays, arts, crafts, hills, villages, happiness, sadness, sun, clouds, rain, birds, squirrels, for God made it all.

...The way you say Demonbreun, Murfreesboro, and Lafayette too

tips the “locals” off that you’re brand-new!

...the restaurants you dined in were: Candyland (downtown), Nero’s, Belle Meade Motel, and Jimmy Kelly’s (in the basement).

...you bought birthday presents at Belle Meade Hardware and had the birthday parties at Pie’s Party House (a guest house in Harding Place).

...you can still smell the warm, mouth-watering aroma of fresh-baked bread wafting through the air from the old Sunbeam factory on Murfreesboro Road.

...you volunteered a lot of time to help get the Nashville Grassmere Zoo built so that everyone can enjoy it, the animals and all. I did 33-and-a-half hours, and I’m disabled, so everyone could help out. I’m also 63-and-a-half.

...you know we may not be alone in the universe, but all of us are alone on earth.

...you can fill in the blanks... “Take home a package of—”, “Sing it over and over and over again,—”, “At Happy Day we clean your clothes the soft-set way with—”

...you’re a baby boomer who once dared to sneak a ride on one of the brightly painted carousel horses anchored in Fred Harvey’s “store-that-never-knew-completion” on Church Street, or every Christmas shivered in the cold to gawk at the bathed-in-blue-light nativity scene mounted by Harvey’s Department Store along the Parthenon’s south façade.

...your childhood is recorded in ubiquitous family-album photos with a background of Andrew Jackson’s columned tomb on the Hermitage grounds, or of weathered tombstones in Mount Olivet Cemetery on Lebanon Road. (Has the Southern penchant for “necro-homage” ever been adequately explained?)

$t-1h97.9996>...The way you say Demonbreun, Murfreesboro, and Lafayette too

tips the “locals” off that you’re brand-new!

...the restaurants you dined in were: Candyland (downtown), Nero’s, Belle Meade Motel, and Jimmy Kelly’s (in the basement).

...you bought birthday presents at Belle Meade Hardware and had the birthday parties at Pie’s Party House (a guest house in Harding Place).

...you can still smell the warm, mouth-watering aroma of fresh-baked bread wafting through the air from the old Sunbeam factory on Murfreesboro Road.

...you volunteered a lot of time to help get the Nashville Grassmere Zoo built so that everyone can enjoy it, the animals and all. I did 33-and-a-half hours, and I’m disabled, so everyone could help out. I’m also 63-and-a-half.

...you know we may not be alone in the universe, but all of us are alone on earth.

...you can fill in the blanks... “Take home a package of—”, “Sing it over and over and over again,—”, “At Happy Day we clean your clothes the soft-set way with—”

...you’re a baby boomer who once dared to sneak a ride on one of the brightly painted carousel horses anchored in Fred Harvey’s “store-that-never-knew-completion” on Church Street, or every Christmas shivered in the cold to gawk at the bathed-in-blue-light nativity scene mounted by Harvey’s Department Store along the Parthenon’s south façade.

...your childhood is recorded in ubiquitous family-album photos with a background of Andrew Jackson’s columned tomb on the Hermitage grounds, or of weathered tombstones in Mount Olivet Cemetery on Lebanon Road. (Has the Southern penchant for “necro-homage” ever been adequately explained?)

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