Photographed in the Thompson Lane Tunnel
Sundown. A warm, breezy Wednesday in the Thompson Lane tunnel at rush hour. Cars inch past in barely moving lines. On the sidewalk, a MAN plays a TUBA. A scruffy looking REPORTER walks up as he plays a second-line strut, now warily.
REPORTER: "Excuse me, sir? I'm with the Nashville Scene ..."
MAN WITH TUBA: BWOMP-bomp-bomp-BOMP ...
REPORTER: "I can see you don't have time to talk right now ..."
MAN WITH TUBA: BWOMP! bomp-bomp-BOMP ...
REPORTER: "I'll just come back another time —"
MAN WITH TUBA: (shakes head) BWOMP-BWOMP! bomp-bomp-BOMP ... bomp-pa-bomp ... PWAAHHH.
MAN fishes a card from his pocket. Resumes playing TUBA.
The man's name is Joe Hunter, and for motorists stuck in one of the city's most congested rush-hour traffic zones — the stretch of Thompson Lane between 100 Oaks and Nolensville Road, where drivers might spend a half-hour creeping a couple of miles — he's a welcome, and surreal, diversion. See, Hunter, who lives nearby, used to hate that stretch of road too. Then one morning he awoke with an epiphany.
"I woke up at sunrise the first week of September, sat up in bed, and a word just came to me: 'Tubatroll,' " says Hunter, who plays double bass and electric bass in acts such as Joe & Bayou and Miss Duke and the Casual Affair. A short time later, he found himself standing at rush hour with a music stand on the sidewalk that snakes through the Thompson Lane tunnel, puffing "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?" on that most comical and cumbersome of instruments, the tuba.
Sure enough, frazzled motorists reacted at first with disbelief, then grins. Some leaned out and gave him tips. Others bobbed along behind the wheel.
Thus was a standing engagement born. On weekdays, you'll find Hunter, who's lived in the Flat Rock neighborhood for 18 years, performing a repertoire of roughly 15 songs — everything from Duke Ellington's "In a Sentimental Mood" to his Marvin Gaye adaptation "Sousaphone Healing." Most days he starts around 4 p.m., maybe earlier to pick up trash, then knocks off around 6. Only gigs, bitter cold and high wind keep him from playing.
"When it's rainy it can be kind of nice," Hunter says. "You know how everything in nature tends to fold up when it rains. It's like everyone just accepts that it's going to be slower."
What makes lugging a tuba into an underpass at rush hour worthwhile, he says, is the range of reactions he gets. One woman gratefully handed him a big tip when he played a lullaby and her baby ceased to wail. A truckload of laborers shouted, "Play something Mexican!" and cheered when he followed them the length of the tunnel huffing "La Cucharacha." Then there was the time an entire baseball team spilled from their van and began drumming in time on their vehicle with swim noodles — a sight so bizarre Hunter had to stop playing because he was laughing so hard.
So far, nobody's joined in, Hunter says.
"But sometimes you'll get a honk, and they'll start answering," he adds, laughing. "You get about eight people doing that, it sounds like a piece of modern music."
More From the 2016 People Issue
The Celebrity Chef: Maneet Chauhan / The Gold Medalist: Scott Hamilton / The Perception Changer: Kent Wallace / The Blogger: Melissa Watkins / The Biker Chaplain: Allen Tanner / The Man: Charles Kaster / The Islamic Leader: Rashed Fakhruddin / The Tubatroll: Joe Hunter / The Dog: Doug the Pug / The Emancipator Impersonator: Dennis Boggs / The Booker: Kathryn Edwards / The Right Brain/Left Brain: Coke Sams and Clarke Gallivan / The Professional Ass-Kicker: Eric Young / The Watcher: Debbie Field
