If Eskimos have 20,000 words for snow, then surely I must have at least a dozen words for why I returned to Nashville after six years in Boston. “Boston, we have a problem,” I said to myself one day. “You had me at ‘come work at an amazing tech company, make great friends and learn how to pronounce Waltham.’” But dude, where’s my free time? And will someone please think of the bank balance? I need the expense of a Boston apartment like I need a can of baked beans thrown at my head.
So I thought, “What Would Ralph Stanley Do?” WWRSD? Are you there, Ralph? It’s me, Carl. The sky opened up, and Ralph said, “N is for Nashville, and Nashville is the best thing since sliced lolcats.” Yes, Virginia, there is a state south of you. And lets face it: Nashville is the new Knoxville. It is there that I’ll practice Zen and the Art of Figuring Out What The Hell To Do Next or Something. In the meantime, Nashville is the most laid back city I can think of to end all most laid back cities I can think of.
So I pointed to the horizon and declared, “Nashville or Bust,” and before long Karl and I were on I-81 with all our belongings, and I said, “I have a feeling we’re not in Massachusetts anymore.”
OK, I know what you’re thinking at this point. You’re thinking: Boston 1, Carl 0. And if by “Boston 1, Carl 0” you mean “Carl 1, Boston 0,” then yes, you’re right. Because this is not the decline and fall of Carl’s career.
Or maybe you’re thinking, “Carl, if you don’t at least consider moving to Silicon Valley, then the terrorists have won.” But in a world where every geek flocks to California, one man thinks that is bullshit. Silicon Valley? I don’t need no stinking Silicon Valleys. I’ll just say it once and for all: the Internet killed the Silicon Valley entrepreneur. In Nashville, you create the world you desire. In Silicon Valley, the world you desire creates YOU!! After all, any sufficiently advanced urban sprawl is indistinguishable from San Jose. I don’t heart that borg.
“Friends don’t let friends move to that cesspool of mulish intolerance and religious fundamentalism,” you say? But dammit, Jim! I’m a relaxed southerner, not a stress monger from the commonwealth! And after six years, Boston was turning me a whiter shade of freezing my ass off. Worst. Winters. Ever. Holy snowstorms, Batman! Especially when the Batmobile is a bicycle.
So when the going gets cold and expensive, feeble folk like me move south. I am Carl, hear me tweet! The way I see it, happiness is glass of fruit tea in the mid-summer swelter. And I, for one, welcome our new Southern Baptist overlords. Yes, it is the city formerly known as the buckle of the bible belt, but today’s Nashville is not your father’s Nashville.
Anyway, here’s my plan for world domination while I’m in town:
- im in ur state, drinkin’ ur whiskey!!!
- ???
- Profit!
No VC money please; we’re southern. Today Nashville, tomorrow the world! I call it Dubious Life Plan 2: Electric Bugaboo.
Oh, and then there’s the Pork. Pulled Pork. Nashville is about Better Living through Pulled Pork. We’ve secretly replaced Carl’s friends with extremely obese people in the line at Hog Heaven. Let’s see if he notices!
(I’m not a writer, but I play one my web site.)