There’s a lot to not like about country music. I have spent a good portion of my life feeling very strongly about that. Over time, I have worked my way toward changing “hate” into “tolerate” when it comes to country music, mostly because of being surrounded by people in my circle who want to listen to it (and several yearly trips to Nashville). I still think the band Florida Georgia Line is a fraud, but I also respect the history of the music.
When I woke up this morning to the news of Kenny Rogers passing away, it obviously didn’t move the needle in a huge way other than being able to hear my dad’s voice singing “You’ve got to know when to hold ’em…” In a world of news going completely off the rails, it wasn’t really top-of-mind.
Then tonight happened, and I caught myself wildly off guard. I was flipping channels (remember, there’s no live basketball on television) and I found a live broadcast from the Grand Ole Opry. Now I’ve been there before on multiple occasions (even for church there twice) and it truly embodies the spirit and heart of Nashville. You don’t have to like the music to feel the presence of the scene. It’s everything special about Nashville, in one place.
Tonight, the seats were empty. The crowds were missing due to coronavirus concerns and the broadcast was bare-bones. It was just three country music greats (and Nashville icons) on stage playing and singing: Marty Stuart, Vince Gill, and Brad Paisley. They opened with a Kenny Rogers song and even admitted that for the next hour, they weren’t really sure what they were going to do. So they played.
The three artists played their own songs, Kenny’s songs, or just whatever felt fitting at the moment. The stage lights were bright and all the optics perfect, even though the audience was only online, on the couch, or listening on the radio from the road. They played off each other. They screwed up a little bit. They were full of perspective but also hope. It was a fantastic hour.
Nashville has been through a lot lately. Tornadoes ripped through Tennessee a few weeks ago (which feels like a lifetime ago). East Nashville was devastated. The entire town was facing tragedy even before the national tragedy our country faces today. I can’t fathom being one of those who lost their home at any time, let alone a time with as much uncertainty as we have now. And still, if it’s a Saturday night in Nashville, there’s music at the Opry.
They played to honor an old friend and legend. They played to an empty crowd, joking that it reminded them of early in their careers. They played on and the hour was really magical. I played it loud in the basement and sometimes sang along when I knew the words. Maybe it was just the lack of something else to watch or the fact that there haven’t been a ton of live performances lately, but it was special. There I was, enjoying country music.
Just don’t tell anyone.