As you know, I was in Nashville last week. I had a wonderful opportunity to be a fellow at the Peabody Professional Institute at Vanderbilt University. Definitely an honor to partcipate. Many hours in a classroom with experts in the various aspects of Higher Education Management and Leadership would not sound like fun to most people, but it was for me. But, since I know most of my readers fall in the category that would not like to spend their time that way, I will tell you about my brushes with fame that week.
I had one night "off" to myself, and I elected to go to a place called the "Loveless Cafe". I had to drive out to the outskirts of Nashville, and as I approached the cafe I saw a cameraman filming the sign. This was not a local news camera, but a big, fancy camera. I parked and saw several production assistants and more cameramen floating about. As fascinating as this was, I was here for the food, so I marched right into the restaurant and asked for a table for one.
I was lucky enough to be seated near the front. Ordinarily when eating out alone (not an uncommon occurrence for me), I sit and read. But there was entirely too much going on, so I entertained myself by staring at the film crew. When my waitress brought the absolutely delightful ham, fried chicken, homemade cream corn and fried tomatoes (yes, I know, I probably should have had a doctor standing by), I asked her what was happening. She said that some girl named Kendra had a tv show and they were coming to eat and film dinner here. "Wow!" I said as though I had any idea who "Kendra" was. After she left my table, I called the Prince of Pop Culture and Other Useless Knowledge who so happens to share my bed most nights. (That would be El Hubbo, in case you were confused by that description.) I told him what she had told me, and he says, "Oh yeah! That's Kendra Wilkinson - she used to be Hugh Hefner's girlfriend, but now she is married to an ex-football player from Clovis."
"Really?" I said. "And you know this how?" Silence met my question......."Oh, dear El Hubbo, we shall have a talk when I return."
"Uh, I love you, babe", he says.
"Uh-huh." I replied as I hung up.
Pretty soon the Playboy Playmate and her husband and son walked right past my table. If you perchance watch her show, you may someday catch a glimpse of me in the background. (Isn't that something to be proud of?)
After overeating on the fabulous meal, I had a reservation at the Bluebird Cafe - Nashville's songwriter's showcase/hangout. I headed there and was sent to my table which was to be shared with another patron dining alone. Since it was getting late and I didn't want to fall asleep during the showcase, I ordered a huge cup of coffee.
Everyone oohed and aaahed as the songwriter's took their places. One was a young red-headed girl that I could hear everyone whispering was a movie star. Apparently it was Alicia Witt and she was the girl who tried to take away Hugh Grant from Sandra Bullock in Two Week's Notice. (Lot's of Hugh mentions today.) She's taking a turn at being a singer/songwriter. Alrighty then.
The next night, we were treated by the Institute to dinner at a hip new restaurant called the Bound'ry. It was very good. Little did we know that Carrie Underwood and her hockey-player husband were eating downstairs from us.
So, that is it. My brush with the rich and famous. Isn't your day infinitely brightened to know all of this? I thought so.
I had one night "off" to myself, and I elected to go to a place called the "Loveless Cafe". I had to drive out to the outskirts of Nashville, and as I approached the cafe I saw a cameraman filming the sign. This was not a local news camera, but a big, fancy camera. I parked and saw several production assistants and more cameramen floating about. As fascinating as this was, I was here for the food, so I marched right into the restaurant and asked for a table for one.
I was lucky enough to be seated near the front. Ordinarily when eating out alone (not an uncommon occurrence for me), I sit and read. But there was entirely too much going on, so I entertained myself by staring at the film crew. When my waitress brought the absolutely delightful ham, fried chicken, homemade cream corn and fried tomatoes (yes, I know, I probably should have had a doctor standing by), I asked her what was happening. She said that some girl named Kendra had a tv show and they were coming to eat and film dinner here. "Wow!" I said as though I had any idea who "Kendra" was. After she left my table, I called the Prince of Pop Culture and Other Useless Knowledge who so happens to share my bed most nights. (That would be El Hubbo, in case you were confused by that description.) I told him what she had told me, and he says, "Oh yeah! That's Kendra Wilkinson - she used to be Hugh Hefner's girlfriend, but now she is married to an ex-football player from Clovis."
"Really?" I said. "And you know this how?" Silence met my question......."Oh, dear El Hubbo, we shall have a talk when I return."
"Uh, I love you, babe", he says.
"Uh-huh." I replied as I hung up.
Pretty soon the Playboy Playmate and her husband and son walked right past my table. If you perchance watch her show, you may someday catch a glimpse of me in the background. (Isn't that something to be proud of?)
After overeating on the fabulous meal, I had a reservation at the Bluebird Cafe - Nashville's songwriter's showcase/hangout. I headed there and was sent to my table which was to be shared with another patron dining alone. Since it was getting late and I didn't want to fall asleep during the showcase, I ordered a huge cup of coffee.
Everyone oohed and aaahed as the songwriter's took their places. One was a young red-headed girl that I could hear everyone whispering was a movie star. Apparently it was Alicia Witt and she was the girl who tried to take away Hugh Grant from Sandra Bullock in Two Week's Notice. (Lot's of Hugh mentions today.) She's taking a turn at being a singer/songwriter. Alrighty then.
The next night, we were treated by the Institute to dinner at a hip new restaurant called the Bound'ry. It was very good. Little did we know that Carrie Underwood and her hockey-player husband were eating downstairs from us.
So, that is it. My brush with the rich and famous. Isn't your day infinitely brightened to know all of this? I thought so.
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