A Day of Christian Dior and Thomas the Tank Engine or, as Ren Thought It Should Be Called, Fashion Week In Nashville

I love living in a small town (most of the time). Of course, I was born and bred in one so it’s just who I am and what I know. I love how there’s very little traffic on the way to or from work and how there are still people who wave as they meet you on the street, even if they don’t know you, and how old men sit and chew the fat over a cup of coffee every morning at the same tables in the local eateries and how I can once again call up my post office and get an address for someone and not be told that it’s against the rules because of the Patriot Act or Homeland Security. I would assume, though, moving to a small town from a highly populated place would be rough. And moving to a big city from a small town could also be a little stressful.

My dream all throughout high school was to one day live in New York, the city of New York. Much of the state of New York, especially upstate, looks similar to Middle Tennessee so that wouldn’t be much of a change. Anyway, I would be some fabulous actress or critically acclaimed playwright living high above some grand avenue in a penthouse with perfect views of Central Park.

Wouldn't this be a swell view?

Alas, my dream, at least that one, did not come true. But it’s okay, because I really do enjoy small town life. Again, for the most part. There are times when my family feels we are running a little low on some cultural fuel. When that happens it becomes time to take a drive into Nashville. Now, don’t laugh. Yes, Nashville is the home of country music (of which I am a fan) and has its share of neon lights and honky tonks, but it also has the Frist Center for the Visual Arts, TPAC, the Schermerhorn Symphony Center, a great public library and many other wonderful places to spend a day or evening.

This past weekend we took the kids and spent a very enjoyable day there. You’ll remember we missed church this past Sunday. Well, that’s why. We were in Nashville.

The first part of the day was spent at the Tennessee Central Railway Museum for its Day Out With Thomas the Tank Engine event. This one was for John-Heath. He loves trains. Barely a weekend can go by without a trip to a Barnes and Noble book store so that he can buy another little wooden train. This is what we bribe him with to be good at school.

We took a train ride, which was pushed along by Thomas, met Sir Topham Hatt, got fake tattoos, and, of course, bought popcorn. My little boy can not be within 100 yards of popcorn without thinking he has to have some.

He was thrilled to ride on a real train but I think he was a little skeptical of Sir Topham Hatt. John was holding him (we had been in line for a while) when he and John-Heath had this exchange:

John: Hey, John-Heath! Look! There’s Sir Topham Hatt.

John-Heath: (smiles for a moment before saying...)I don’t think that’s the real Sir Topham Hatt. I think that’s just someone dressed up in his clothes.

John: What makes you say that?

John-Heath: Because his eyes don’t move and his mouth doesn’t move.

After having so much fun at the train station that we just couldn’t stand it anymore (okay, that was a little sarcasm on my part) we headed over to the Frist to see The Golden Age of Couture exhibit. This one was for Ren.

I had been promising to take her to see it for a while and this was the last day. Note to self...never again wait until the last day of an exhibit at the Frist to go and see it. It was an awesome collection, very heavy on Christian Dior, but would have been a lot awesomer had we gone, say, on a Wednesday about a month ago (if you are an English teacher my apologies for using "awesomer" as a word). The crowd was large, almost uncomfortably so, and I began to feel a little claustrophobic. Nonetheless, it was a really great exhibit (on loan from the Victoria and Albert Museum in London) and the people at the Frist are always just so very nice and helpful. While Ren and I were looking at all the pretty dresses John and John-Heath were next door at Union Station looking at more, you guessed it, trains.

After a late lunch/early supper at Dalts we headed home. The day was a success. As John-Heath noted, “I am just so happy.” And all the people in the car said, “Amen!”