Love-Hate Mail
A woman’s touch
I would like to thank you for the best presentation of the issues of eating disorders that I have ever read (“Eaten Alive,” Aug. 17). Claire Suddath’s factual, unbiased and sensitive approach to telling Rebecca’s story was unlike any of the anorexia/bulimia stories common in today’s culture. Instead of being judgmental, with the attitude of “these stupid, skinny girls just need to get over themselves,” Suddath’s gentle, objective viewpoint demonstrated fairness and sympathy toward people who suffer from eating disorders. Congratulations, Claire, on a very professional article, and to the Scene for an honest portrayal of one of today’s most touchy issues.
ROSE BARONE
crystalvillage16@aol.com (Nashville)
Blog love
Ms. Suddath, I just read your cover story and it just put me somewhere (“Eaten Alive,” Aug. 17). Usually, after work I come home and poke around the ’Net and skim blogs and such, not really delving too much into any one thing. But “Nashville Is Talking” linked to your piece and, before I knew it, I was completely drawn in. So I just had to give you a shout-out of sorts on my blog. I’ve got a couple of people close to me who may or may not struggle with eating disorders, so it really resonated with me, as I’m sure it did with so many people. Anyway, thanks again for the good cover story. It’s good stuff.
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MICHAEL BEZIAT
beziat@gmail.com (Nashville)
Music City miracle
Your Aug. 10 cover story (“Never in Nashville”) brought back a flood of fond memories. I certainly wasn’t a mover or shaker in that scene, but I was on the edges. I graduated from MBA in 1979, and was an engineering student at Vandy from the fall of ’79 to spring of ’84. I remember going to Phrank ’N’ Steins as a high school kid and seeing Cloverbottom. I still have an autographed copy of their self-released single. (One evening I sat at a table with an older couple. Curious as to why they might be there, I struck up a conversation with them. Turns out they were the parents of Rock Strata!) I’m pretty sure I was the only kid in my class who listened to The Ramones, Talking Heads, Buzzcocks, Sex Pistols, Patti Smith, etc. I saw The Ramones at Exit/In, and I was blown away: 20 songs in less than 45 minutes. Back then, Cat’s West End didn’t exist, so Discount Records on Elliston Place was the best place to buy punk and new wave music.
You nailed how crazy Cantrell’s was. It was a regular pilgrimage to see White Animals there. I think the reason I spent my college years as a puny 160-pound skinny boy was that I sweated off at least 5 pounds every time I went to see them. I dated a girl for a while at this time, and finally she said she would go out with me only if “we don’t go see those White Animals again.” I dumped her.
Meanwhile, to earn spending money, I parked cars for Kobe Steaks in the evenings. You never knew who might show up. I’ll never forget Elvis Costello getting out of a car and going inside. I convinced my fellow valets to let me run up to my dorm room, grab my copy of Armed Forces, and go inside the restaurant to get it autographed. He was a very cordial fellow.
Finally, as a graduate student, I worked as a clerk at the West End Cat’s under Steve West, and it was a blast. New music was coming in weekly from England and all kinds of independent labels. It was almost a religious experience putting the latest release from The Smiths, New Order or R.E.M. on the turntable. We would pore over the artwork and fine print, noting who was producer, engineer, hair stylist....
Thanks for writing such a great article. I’m glad some people still remember that brief explosion of brilliance in the local music scene. You really had to be there.
THADDEUS WERT
twert@mindspring.com (Nashville)
Rock of ages
Thanks so much for the article on the 1980s rock scene in Nashville (“Never in Nashville,” Aug. 10). This tumultuous time provided lots of great memories for those of us who lived it. Not only did it produce several gifted writers for your publication, but many of those familiar faces now run the show at Lightning 100.
I particularly enjoyed the tale of the “Last Chance to Dance Party” on Labor Day 1982 in the Cat’s Records parking lot, featuring Jason and the Nashville Scorchers and White Animals. What many people fail to recall about that event was the brief opening set by a little-known singer songwriter named Steve Earle.
Let’s hope the current rock music movement will sink its roots deep enough for our city to finally realize its full music-producing potential.
ROBERT DIEHL
realdiehl@email.com (Nashville)
Nashville calling
Just wanted to say thanks for the “Never In Nashville” article (Aug. 10). It was a blast to read old friends and associates sharing their memories of those great times—times so great that they are marked indelibly in the minds of those who were there. It comes across in the individual stories, and in the article as a whole. I would like to clarify one minor point: Cloverbottom played their first gig at Phrank ’N’ Steins on Aug. 2, 1979, and played there several times each month for the rest of that year. Rick Champion did indeed get us that first gig and was our manager, but he had a little momentum going to back up his decision to buy the club in 1980. Thanks again for an informative article that captured the spirit of the times so honestly.
JOHNNY HOLLYWOOD A.K.A. JOHN MILILLO
dumpster@comcast.net (Nashville)
The outsiders
I would like to make an addition to Mr. Williams’ letter last week, “He’s a Mexican. Does That Help?” (Love/Hate Mail, Aug. 17). Remember that uncomfortable feeling you had as a kid when your parents said, we’re not laughing at you, we’re laughing with you, only you weren’t laughing? Remember people like Richard Pryor openly and brazenly incorporated racial and sexist humor into their shows, but it was OK because he was “one of them”? I am a Jewish person married to a Mexican woman and neither of us have the stereotypical Jewish or Latino “look.” I cannot recount how many times we have heard hateful anti-Jewish or -Mexican statements made in our presence because no one knew that we were “one of them.” We were left with the uncomfortable decision of saying to the four or five laughing people, “Excuse me, I’m Jewish” or ”Hey, my wife here is Mexican,”or just letting it go one more time.
Would Mel Gibson’s remarks have been less incendiary if he himself were a Jew? The point is this: bigotry, whether via open declaration or so-called humor, is not good. Perhaps “Ask a Jew” or “Ask a Black” would not be tolerated quite as readily as “Ask a Mexican,” but I suppose the Mexicans are the hapless underdogs of our society at the moment so it’s OK to laugh “with” them. There are several wars happening on the planet today where people are being killed daily based on what cultural or ethnic group they are from. Perhaps this type of covert, “laughing with them,” Ask-a-Mexican, bigoted humor should be replaced with a little old “do unto others” mentality. Sure it’s not as funny, but that would be just fine.
ERIC SILVER
silver-703@comcast.net (Nashville)
Something to talk about
I’m sure “Ask a Mexican” has generated lots of publicity, but it also serves an important purpose: promoting deeper understanding between different cultures that live and work in the same communities. A natural curiosity exists between different groups, and I think it’s healthier to ask questions than to maintain “politically correct” silence. There should be: “Ask a Republican,” “Ask a Vegetarian,” “Ask a Black Woman” or “Ask a Millionaire.” I don’t know what the Nashville visitor who wrote the Scene was so offended by (Love/Hate Mail, Aug. 17). Did the word “Mexican” bother him? His reaction is evidence that this kind of dialogue is desperately needed! Four out of 5 Mexicans agree!
DANIEL TASHIAN
daniel@tashian.com (Nashville)