Nashville Friday Five: Holiday Hangouts

1. (Don’t) shoot your eye out at Noelle’s Hidden Bar

Scientists can argue forever about the most powerful of the five senses — none are as powerful as nostalgia. The movie A Christmas Story is utterly batshit. The basement smog, the copious cups of milk, the “show me how the piggies eat” scene that ruined mashed potatoes for me. It’s all a weird mess of the ’80s cosplaying the ’60s cosplaying the ’40s, and it stresses me out.

But my brothers quote it every Christmas. They give each other lamp-leg gifts. And I can’t see a flagpole without giving thanks for my tongue. Thus the nostalgia transcends the source material, especially at Noelle. Walking into the hotel's Hidden Bar, you may think your eggnog was laced with heroin rather than whiskey (explanation below). I won’t spoil the discovery of all the thoughtful details for you, but I will say there’s much more to find than a BB gun and a Bo Ling Chop Suey Palace Co. menu. If you’re someone who still reads “fragile” as “fra-jeel-ay,” this is a can’t-miss. You have until Jan. 8 to get there, and you can’t bring the kids. I’ll raise an Ovaltini to that.

A few other facts my foray into A Christmas Story uncovered: 

• Apparently heroin was quite popular in the 1940s. Other bonkers drug facts from PBS: In 1803, the Germans whipped up morphine, and physicians quickly dubbed it “God’s own medicine.” By 1898, the Bayer Company (yes, that one) stepped up the game to heroin. And by the early 1900s, philanthropies were mailing free heroin to morphine addicts to help them quit. What could go wrong?

• The Little Orphan Annie radio show is real, and it was sponsored by Ovaltine, but the messages revealed by the decoder rings weren't Ovaltine commercials. I was actually angry on Ovaltine’s behalf that this movie would make them look so lame ... until I learned that their actual ad agency used half of each 15-minute broadcast to shill for Ovaltine. Not great, Bob. 

• The actor who played Ralphie, Peter Billingsley, was already famous in the ’80s for playing “Messy Marvin” in a bunch of Hershey's Chocolate Syrup commercials. The idea behind these ads — that a child is less messy making chocolate milk with sticky, dark-brown syrup than light-brown powder — is absurd. Did advertising just used to be easier? No wonder Don Draper could do it drunk. 

2. Take a wonder-ful walk at Zoolumination

Nashvillians love to talk about Cheekwood during the holidays. And Cheekwood is lovely, especially in spring or fall. But for photo ops and spectacle and kid-friendly winter nonsense, nowhere beats the Nashville Zoo's Zoolumination. 

The numbers make the point — it’s the country's largest Chinese lantern festival, with more than 1,000 silk lanterns — but it’s the vibe I’m celebrating here. The lanterns are wild, of course, featuring everything from dragons and hot-air balloons to menorahs and mushrooms. But what makes it feel magical is the way the scenes are arranged — scattered on every path so you feel like you’re just walking along, stumbling upon some secret fairyland as you go. Add a bunch of bars, ziplines, nightly performances by Chinese entertainers and a Santa line that won’t crush your soul (thanks, timed entry), and there’s just no way not to like it. Bonus: Their version of the Polar Express evokes the magic of the book and none of the movie’s creepy aesthetic. The kids I took loved Zoolumination, but I’m the reason we’ll go back. 

See Santa until Dec. 24 and everything else until Jan. 7.

3. Kick it old-school at Sportsman’s Grille

Now that I’ve pissed off Old Nashville with my blasphemous Cheekwood take, here’s an olive branch: I love Sportsman’s Grille. While my “home” Sportsman’s was the now-shuttered Hillsboro Village one (which is still open according to Tripadvisor!), these days I take it to Belle Meade when I need a hit of “good old days.” Wooden booths, dead animals on the wall, crazy-cold beer, homespun decor — all of it adds up to the Cheers atmosphere I find myself craving, especially at the holidays.

Am I aware that “the good old days” don’t really exist? Of course. But Sportsman’s is the Platonic ideal of a simple place with good people, and that’s inherently comforting. Whether I pull up to the bar solo for a drink or have my family in tow, these folks are happy to see me (or good at pretending to be). Mary T. makes chipper small talk, whether we catch her in Belle Meade or at the truly outstanding Brentwood location.

Speaking of the Brentwood lodge, or log “cabin,” it is truly destination-worthy. The enormous structure was built 25 years ago with Engelmann spruce from Montana. According to the Sportsman's website, it was designed to “capture the spirit of the Rocky Mountain National Park lodges built in the early 1900s. Wood-burning fireplaces enhance the ambiance to make for a warm and comfortable dining experience.” I wholeheartedly concur. While the bar food isn’t as strong as that of Corner Pub or Brewhouse, I do not care. Sit me at that big old bar with a big old beer, and I’m happy. Or at the smaller bar with the kickass old icebox in Belle Meade. Bonus: If you spaced on a holiday card, you can stage a convincing mountain getaway at either location.

4. Play around at Tee Line 

As you’d expect, Tee Line is a blast for groups. I’ve written as much in the past. What I didn’t expect when I started using it as a playpen for my daughter on cold or wet days was how freaking festive it would be. You can curl or play video games or bowl (though I wish their four lanes used free-fall machines rather than string pins). But you can also just hang out. Get into giant Jenga or shuffleboard on the patio. Pull up a seat by the firepit and play cards. Watch a game on a big screen inside. Or just enjoy the merry decor — and the fact that you can shut down any kid who says, “Our tree is bigger than that one,” the second you walk inside.

5. Get romantic at Geist

Germantown is a great place to walk. With its lamp-lit streets and gorgeous homes you can’t afford, strolling through the (strangely still sleepy) neighborhood at night is peaceful, lovely and best done in pairs. (Can one of you be a dog? Absolutely.) The pro move: End your walk at Geist. 

The Champagne Garden is enclosed and heated through February, and the restaurant has been decked out with more than 60,000 ornaments. Can’t envision that? Have you ever seen a photo of the fabulously overdecorated German restaurant in New York — the one that looks like a fortune teller’s jewelry box exploded inside an ornament factory? That was their inspiration. While it’s possible to walk in and enjoy the gloriously glitzy vibe, go ahead and book a spot. Nothing spoils a Hallmark moment like a 90-minute wait.