I Decided to Move to Nashville

A Little About Me

A lonely snowflake kissed my cheek when I opened the door of my sturdy, 1986 Buick Century. I pulled my guitar and gig bag from the back seat and got out of my car. Walking up the sidewalk, and around the corner, I noticed the neon light flickering at Thomas Hughie’s bar across the street. The street lights illuminated the flakes of snow as they fell on their own time, caressing the industrial landscape of Buffalo with a fresh coat of crystal white. As I entered my silent apartment, I eased the door shut. No need to wake the neighbors at 4am. I brushed off my jacked and threw it on the couch, then I flopped down into my chair.

I reached into my front jeans pocket, and tried to fish out the pieces of paper in it between two fingers. A hundred bucks. I made a hundred bucks playing music, drinking beer, and flirting with every girl that wasn’t attached to man bigger than me. I looked out my window, and watched a man wobble out of the bar, then pull a brush out of his car and start brushing the snow off of his windshield. I picked one, just a single one, snowflake, and my eyes followed the lone flake until it hit the pile of flake standing on a now white, fire hydrant. The thought first hit me at that moment, “What would life be like if I was able to play and sing as my full time job?” Wow! In that moment, with that single snowflake, on an icy Buffalo morning, my life changed. I decided to pursue a career in music. I decided to move to Nashville, Tennessee, home of country music.