This week, guest blogger Lori Bargeron writes about 5 Celebrity encounters where she works, at Bobbie's Dairy Dip in Nashville, Tennessee.
Do you find it hard to take pop idols seriously? What if they're country crossovers? Is it even more difficult then? I call it "The Shania Twain Problem." It's like a flash in the pan-- you don't know how to categorize them, or how long their success will continue.
What I don't like about Taylor Swift's success is that some people (some of my friends, even) are so quick to dismiss it. She sings songs that are catchy, that girls the world over latch onto, identifying with her love-torn heroine character. And isn't that the goal of pop music? To create something that your audience can relate to, something that makes them feel at home for 3 minutes & 20 seconds. "Taylor gets it, Taylor gets ME," is what her audience thinks, and it's true. Taylor does get it. She's a pop idol with staying power. And all the while a gracious and classy young woman.
Taylor Swift has sold millions of records and won countless awards, and she is still amazed when she receives such acclaim. It is a dream come true for her, and she continues to be humble about it.
Not to mention that when Nashville flooded earlier in May of this year, Taylor donated half a million dollars during a local TV station's flood relief telethon-- the most by any one person or corporation. And that's just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Taylor's philanthropic efforts. In 2007, she helped launch a Tennessee government-sanctioned campaign to protect minors from online sexual predators. She has donated to the Australian Red Cross for relief efforts made during the 2009 Victorian bushfires, and given money to the BBC's annual "Children in Need" telethon which distributes donations to various children's organizations all across the UK. Now, that's a superstar with good in her heart. So, it bothers me when people make fun of her "surprised to win a Grammy" face. And it bothers me when I hear people dismiss her as just another candy-coated tool of record label mass consumption tyranny.
Here's Taylor singing her "signature" song, "Love Story." It's like a diary entry. Taylor has been quoted as saying that her goal is to never write a song that her fans can't relate to. You should take her seriously...I definitely do (even though she does enjoy rainbow sprinkles).
Showing posts with label bobbie's dairy dip. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bobbie's dairy dip. Show all posts
Friday, August 20, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Emmylou Harris "Not Enough"
This week, guest blogger Lori Bargeron writes about 5 Celebrity encounters where she works, at Bobbie's Dairy Dip in Nashville, Tennessee.
How can I say I live in Nashville and not be a fan of Emmylou Harris? She’s as uniquely Music City as the Dip is. I know, I know. It's just, folk music has never been my thing. But I do have a particular fondness for Emmylou as a person-- "my thing" or not, her talent really is beyond words. And there's no denying that she puts countless efforts into bettering the community. She is a blessed woman who radiates kindness.
Activism is a large part of her life as she annually organizes a benefit tour called Concerts for a Landmine Free World, which benefits Veterans of the Vietnam War. She took part in an anti-death penalty concert called Journey of Hope, and also featured Jackson Browne and Steve Earle, among others. And of course, Emmylou rode in the feminist wagon touring with the Lilith Fair several times.
But I think what impresses me most is housed in Emmylou's own backyard. Her love for animals inspired her to turn part of her property into a shelter for homeless or unwanted dogs, a shelter she has dubbed Bonaparte's Retreat (named for her late poodle mix, Bonaparte, who was her constant touring companion). Emmylou takes in some of the dogs the Nashville Humane Association just doesn't have room for, and with the help of a network of foster volunteers, homes are found for the animals.
I myself adopted a dog from the Humane Association, and I whole-heartedly support any organization that will keep animals from shelters that will euthanize them if not adopted.
"Not Enough" is a song Emmylou wrote in tribute to her beloved pal Bonaparte. With lyrics so heartbreaking and personal, you could be led to think Emmylou is singing about a lost friend, a loved one---a human nonetheless. I'm with you, Emmy. My pets are amazing, and I love them more than I can describe. Ever so often I hug my dog and cat, telling them, "Ok, here's how it is. Y'all can't ever die." It’s this kind of shared love for something that gives you a sense of connection with celebrities; the kind of thing that helps you realize just how normal they actually are.
How can I say I live in Nashville and not be a fan of Emmylou Harris? She’s as uniquely Music City as the Dip is. I know, I know. It's just, folk music has never been my thing. But I do have a particular fondness for Emmylou as a person-- "my thing" or not, her talent really is beyond words. And there's no denying that she puts countless efforts into bettering the community. She is a blessed woman who radiates kindness.
Activism is a large part of her life as she annually organizes a benefit tour called Concerts for a Landmine Free World, which benefits Veterans of the Vietnam War. She took part in an anti-death penalty concert called Journey of Hope, and also featured Jackson Browne and Steve Earle, among others. And of course, Emmylou rode in the feminist wagon touring with the Lilith Fair several times.
But I think what impresses me most is housed in Emmylou's own backyard. Her love for animals inspired her to turn part of her property into a shelter for homeless or unwanted dogs, a shelter she has dubbed Bonaparte's Retreat (named for her late poodle mix, Bonaparte, who was her constant touring companion). Emmylou takes in some of the dogs the Nashville Humane Association just doesn't have room for, and with the help of a network of foster volunteers, homes are found for the animals.
I myself adopted a dog from the Humane Association, and I whole-heartedly support any organization that will keep animals from shelters that will euthanize them if not adopted.
"Not Enough" is a song Emmylou wrote in tribute to her beloved pal Bonaparte. With lyrics so heartbreaking and personal, you could be led to think Emmylou is singing about a lost friend, a loved one---a human nonetheless. I'm with you, Emmy. My pets are amazing, and I love them more than I can describe. Ever so often I hug my dog and cat, telling them, "Ok, here's how it is. Y'all can't ever die." It’s this kind of shared love for something that gives you a sense of connection with celebrities; the kind of thing that helps you realize just how normal they actually are.
"I still have your memory.
One or two pictures of you and me.
Life is long and life is tough,
But when you love someone,
Life is not long enough."
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Tonic "If You Could Only See"
This week, guest blogger Lori Bargeron writes about 5 Celebrity encounters where she works, at Bobbie's Dairy Dip in Nashville, Tennessee.
I have a habit of screaming "Hits of the '90s!" whenever I hear, well, a hit of the '90s. My excitement erupts when I hear a song that takes me back to the era which culminated my love for music -- the era which birthed musical styles my heart hungers for today. It's probably the biggest thing my husband and I have in common, an acute appreciation for the culture of the decade. In fact, we wouldn't have even met if wasn't for a '90s band called Self.
My story today centers around Emerson Hart, hunky lead singer of the band Tonic. Emerson had been coming to the Dip on quite a regular basis with no one recognizing him as anything more than a mere Nashville studio musician. You see, you can spot those guys from a mile away with their perfectly sculpted bed heads, western shirts, and Beatle boots. He'd come by every other day and order the same thing: a chocolate ice cream cone covered in chocolate sprinkles with an extra cup of sprinkles on the side for dipping. And when we asked his name (to call him when his cone was ready), he'd grin and answer, "Just say 'Mr. Sprinkles'". One day, noticing his actual name on his credit card, and having the knowledge that he just looked like a musician, we decided to investigate. Lo and behold, there he was staring at us through Google search! The next time we saw him, we were giddy -- not only because he is one of our nicest, most favorite customers, he reminds us of a time when we actually enjoyed turning on pop rock radio.
So here's to Mr. Sprinkles, and to nostalgia.
I have a habit of screaming "Hits of the '90s!" whenever I hear, well, a hit of the '90s. My excitement erupts when I hear a song that takes me back to the era which culminated my love for music -- the era which birthed musical styles my heart hungers for today. It's probably the biggest thing my husband and I have in common, an acute appreciation for the culture of the decade. In fact, we wouldn't have even met if wasn't for a '90s band called Self.
My story today centers around Emerson Hart, hunky lead singer of the band Tonic. Emerson had been coming to the Dip on quite a regular basis with no one recognizing him as anything more than a mere Nashville studio musician. You see, you can spot those guys from a mile away with their perfectly sculpted bed heads, western shirts, and Beatle boots. He'd come by every other day and order the same thing: a chocolate ice cream cone covered in chocolate sprinkles with an extra cup of sprinkles on the side for dipping. And when we asked his name (to call him when his cone was ready), he'd grin and answer, "Just say 'Mr. Sprinkles'". One day, noticing his actual name on his credit card, and having the knowledge that he just looked like a musician, we decided to investigate. Lo and behold, there he was staring at us through Google search! The next time we saw him, we were giddy -- not only because he is one of our nicest, most favorite customers, he reminds us of a time when we actually enjoyed turning on pop rock radio.
So here's to Mr. Sprinkles, and to nostalgia.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Martina McBride - "(I Never Promised You A) Rose Garden"
This week, guest blogger Lori Bargeron writes about 5 Celebrity encounters where she works, at Bobbie's Dairy Dip in Nashville, Tennessee.
Throughout the tabloid age, we have nosed ourselves into the lives of celebrities making their business our business in a way that could be innocent or could be creepy depending on your own perspective. But none of that is more apparent than now, when information is so readily available through the likes of the Internet Movie DataBase or Wikipedia -- dare I neglect to mention the "straight from the horse's mouth" appeal of Twitter or Facebook.
Not only have we taken an interest in our favorite stars, we have "friended" them -- giving us the ultimate in transference of emotion. We can actually communicate with them beyond the realm of any fan club. Not only are they a part of our daily lives, ohmygosh! We could be a part of their lives!
So here's where it's weird for me. I work in a job where I get to see many children grow up. Year after year, families come for ice cream all summer long, and I witness the all after-effects of a winter of babies learning to walk or boys' voices cracking or girls starting to wear make-up. I feel special to be a part of their lives, to be a spectator in their maturation. I feel like I know them, that I've experienced their special moments along with them.
The first time I saw country singer Martina McBride at the Dairy Dip, she was pregnant. That had to have been 3 or 4 years ago. The next time I saw her, she had had an adorable baby. The time after that, toddlers-ville. When telling the "a celebrity came to my restaurant" story, I always remark on how impressed I am with how lovely and well-mannered her children are or how charmingly goofy her husband is. Every time, I feel like I gain more and more of a sense of knowing them. It makes me feel special.
So I guess, what I'm posing is, why do we care so much with celebrities do normal things like eat hamburgers or have children who grow up? Why do I feel so lucky to witness the McBride children's growth into young adulthood? Are they any different than my favorite students at the Catholic school two blocks away?
Martina sings some songs about growing older, but what I want to share with you today is a cut from her record "Timeless," on which she sings all classic country hits. It fits right in to our aesthetic at Bobbie's, where we play songs of all genres, but only from the 1950s-60s (and some ‘70s when we feel like it).
Throughout the tabloid age, we have nosed ourselves into the lives of celebrities making their business our business in a way that could be innocent or could be creepy depending on your own perspective. But none of that is more apparent than now, when information is so readily available through the likes of the Internet Movie DataBase or Wikipedia -- dare I neglect to mention the "straight from the horse's mouth" appeal of Twitter or Facebook.
Not only have we taken an interest in our favorite stars, we have "friended" them -- giving us the ultimate in transference of emotion. We can actually communicate with them beyond the realm of any fan club. Not only are they a part of our daily lives, ohmygosh! We could be a part of their lives!
So here's where it's weird for me. I work in a job where I get to see many children grow up. Year after year, families come for ice cream all summer long, and I witness the all after-effects of a winter of babies learning to walk or boys' voices cracking or girls starting to wear make-up. I feel special to be a part of their lives, to be a spectator in their maturation. I feel like I know them, that I've experienced their special moments along with them.
The first time I saw country singer Martina McBride at the Dairy Dip, she was pregnant. That had to have been 3 or 4 years ago. The next time I saw her, she had had an adorable baby. The time after that, toddlers-ville. When telling the "a celebrity came to my restaurant" story, I always remark on how impressed I am with how lovely and well-mannered her children are or how charmingly goofy her husband is. Every time, I feel like I gain more and more of a sense of knowing them. It makes me feel special.
So I guess, what I'm posing is, why do we care so much with celebrities do normal things like eat hamburgers or have children who grow up? Why do I feel so lucky to witness the McBride children's growth into young adulthood? Are they any different than my favorite students at the Catholic school two blocks away?
Martina sings some songs about growing older, but what I want to share with you today is a cut from her record "Timeless," on which she sings all classic country hits. It fits right in to our aesthetic at Bobbie's, where we play songs of all genres, but only from the 1950s-60s (and some ‘70s when we feel like it).
Monday, August 16, 2010
Ben Folds - "Rockin' The Suburbs"
This week, guest blogger Lori Bargeron writes about 5 Celebrity encounters where she works, at Bobbie's Dairy Dip in Nashville, Tennessee.
The Holy Grail of any Nashville music celebrity sighting is, of course, the mighty Jack White. While I haven't been fortunate enough to run into this elusive figure, we at the Dip did enjoy the patronage of his fellow Raconteur Brendan Benson. It's really too bad that story isn't colorful enough to write about.
However, I will talk about the time I met Nashville's other celebrity Holy Grail (if there were such a thing). In the wintertime, Bobbie's is closed, so I was working in a coffee shop my big boss also owns. At the time, my husband (then fiance) lived in South Carolina, and I only got to see him every so often. On this particular day, the door to the cafe opened, and I greeted the person who walked in with my usual smile and "hello," momentarily gasping, "Holy cow! Andrew's come here to surprise me!" I started to run around the counter to give him a big ol' welcome smooch. But as the man said "hello" back, immediately my smile fell. I thought to myself, "Oh. That's not Andrew. That's just Ben Folds."
Whenever I hear this song, my husband’s favorite, I will forever think of that day when I was actually disappointed to meet one of our songwriting heroes.
(By the way, it’s not like Andrew looks especially like Mr. Folds. I think it was mostly the glasses style and boyishness they share that fooled me. Andrew’s much taller.)
The Holy Grail of any Nashville music celebrity sighting is, of course, the mighty Jack White. While I haven't been fortunate enough to run into this elusive figure, we at the Dip did enjoy the patronage of his fellow Raconteur Brendan Benson. It's really too bad that story isn't colorful enough to write about.
However, I will talk about the time I met Nashville's other celebrity Holy Grail (if there were such a thing). In the wintertime, Bobbie's is closed, so I was working in a coffee shop my big boss also owns. At the time, my husband (then fiance) lived in South Carolina, and I only got to see him every so often. On this particular day, the door to the cafe opened, and I greeted the person who walked in with my usual smile and "hello," momentarily gasping, "Holy cow! Andrew's come here to surprise me!" I started to run around the counter to give him a big ol' welcome smooch. But as the man said "hello" back, immediately my smile fell. I thought to myself, "Oh. That's not Andrew. That's just Ben Folds."
Whenever I hear this song, my husband’s favorite, I will forever think of that day when I was actually disappointed to meet one of our songwriting heroes.
(By the way, it’s not like Andrew looks especially like Mr. Folds. I think it was mostly the glasses style and boyishness they share that fooled me. Andrew’s much taller.)
Friday, August 13, 2010
Small Factory "The Last Time That I Talk To You"
I was not particularly experienced. Or interesting. But they asked, so I came.
I had only been a DJ for a short time, when one of the local Middle Schools invited me to come speak to a class, during career day.
I was living on the Virginia/Tennessee border, hosting a nightly modern rock show. I was in "Country" Country, so the weird stuff I was playing was pretty alien to most folks.
I wasn't much of a public speaker at that time, so after a few questions about how much I got paid, and several inquiries into whether I had brought everyone free CDs (uh, No), an uncomfortable silence started to settle in.
There was a hand from the back of the room.
"Yes? You have a question?"
"Uh, yeah. I just wanted to say that I really liked that interview you did with Small Factory the other night."
I had interviewed an independent band on the air a few nights earlier. I didn't expect that anyone had listened, or cared.
The Middle Schooler's name was Lori T. Being in Middle School in "Country" Country and loving indie rock was not something you could share with a lot of people.
We took Lori in.
Lori would run Casey Kasem's program on the weekends. And when she was in high school, she started fill-in airshifts, eventually taking over my Saturday night iteration of the modern rock show.
You are on the air sometimes, wondering if anyone listens, or cares. And then you think about someone like Lori T. who absorbed that weird music that her peers would never listen to, and who grew up to be a cool cool person, in part, because there was someone on the radio who spoke her language.
Lori T is now Lori T B, and she and her husband live in Music City: Nashville, Tennessee.
Next week, she's going to be the guest blogger on this page. Here's a preview from Lori:
Check it out all next week, as Lori serves a cone to Emmylou Harris, Ben Folds, Taylor Swift and others. Yum! And Yeah!
I had only been a DJ for a short time, when one of the local Middle Schools invited me to come speak to a class, during career day.
I was living on the Virginia/Tennessee border, hosting a nightly modern rock show. I was in "Country" Country, so the weird stuff I was playing was pretty alien to most folks.
I wasn't much of a public speaker at that time, so after a few questions about how much I got paid, and several inquiries into whether I had brought everyone free CDs (uh, No), an uncomfortable silence started to settle in.
There was a hand from the back of the room.
"Yes? You have a question?"
"Uh, yeah. I just wanted to say that I really liked that interview you did with Small Factory the other night."
I had interviewed an independent band on the air a few nights earlier. I didn't expect that anyone had listened, or cared.
The Middle Schooler's name was Lori T. Being in Middle School in "Country" Country and loving indie rock was not something you could share with a lot of people.
We took Lori in.
Lori would run Casey Kasem's program on the weekends. And when she was in high school, she started fill-in airshifts, eventually taking over my Saturday night iteration of the modern rock show.
You are on the air sometimes, wondering if anyone listens, or cares. And then you think about someone like Lori T. who absorbed that weird music that her peers would never listen to, and who grew up to be a cool cool person, in part, because there was someone on the radio who spoke her language.
Lori T is now Lori T B, and she and her husband live in Music City: Nashville, Tennessee.
Next week, she's going to be the guest blogger on this page. Here's a preview from Lori:
"Briefly, I have a real kick ass job. Bobbie's Dairy Dip is a unique piece of Nashville history, an original drive-up hamburger and soft serve stand (you know, like the ones the Beach Boys sing about). The building has been around since 1951. It's a special place with a very special clientele-- families, hipsters, and even some famous folk from time to time. Here are songs I've picked representing my five favorite celebrity encounters while working at the Dip."
Check it out all next week, as Lori serves a cone to Emmylou Harris, Ben Folds, Taylor Swift and others. Yum! And Yeah!
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