They say you can never step twice into the same river: Both the river and you are continuously changing. After spending consecutive weekends in Nashville, Tennessee, I’m willing to make the same statement about stepping twice into the same city. I journeyed to Music City two times in March with my family, first for a musical theater performance and a second time for a certain type of string music: a basketball tournament.

Living in Central Kentucky, only a three-ish hour drive from Nashville, I was not unfamiliar with the place. I wrote here about a remarkable press trip I took there in 2017. My two trips this year, though, enabled me to see different sides of the city.

One of my goals was to find a hotel that could anchor my visits on both weekends. LouAnna Henton of Visit Music City introduced me to Tempo by Hilton, a new hotel perfectly positioned—about four blocks from both the Tennessee Performing Arts Center and Bridgestone Arena. It was an easy walk to both venues.

On Weekend 1, I cashed in on a Christmas present from Mary Beth: tickets to a Friday evening performance of “Hadestown” at TPAC, and we were accompanied by one of our sons, Clay; his wife Leslie; and MB’s sister, Laura. We had plenty of dining choices and opted for a restaurant specializing in Spanish tapas.

At the theater, motorcoaches were dropping off show-goers as we walked into a busy lobby, and we found our seats quickly. “Hadestown,” winner of eight Tony Awards plus a Grammy, is a remarkable, raucous musical, and I left the theater determined to fetch my high school trombone from the attic and start playing again—loudly.

The next day, before driving home, we ventured to Broadway to get a look at the bars and honky-tonks that come alive each night. We found out that nobody is waiting for nighttime in Nashville. The sidewalks were filled with pedestrians, and the street itself was loaded with day-drinking groups—bachelorettes, fraternity brothers, birthday groups, etc.—aboard all types of transportation: open-air buses, party barges, converted military vehicles, and an array of pedal taverns.

It was 11 a.m., and every bar was already belting live music through open windows. We were floored … and we were hungry, so we dove into a restaurant just off Broadway and watched the world pass by as we ate lunch, including some hot chicken. We were seeing, hearing, and tasting what Nashville is all about.

Watching the bustle of Broadway that first weekend, I told myself I should steer clear of the craziness during my second weekend in Nashville.

I did not follow my advice.

On Weekend 2, I returned to Nashville with both sons, Steele and Clay, to watch the University of Kentucky men’s basketball team compete in the Southeastern Conference tournament. I’m a lifelong fan of U.K., as are my sons. And while I had heard about Big Blue Nation at the SEC tournament, I had never attended. It’s a lot to manage, you know—meals, lodging, game tickets, and other activities.

Fortunately for me, others did all the planning. LouAnna helped me get great rates on accommodations and attractions, Clay handled ticket purchases (and the resale of non-U.K.-game tickets), and Steele found the food: excellent spots that specialized in German, Mexican, and breakfast fare, plus of course, pizza.

In 45 iterations of the SEC tournament following its renewal in 1979, Nashville has served as host 14 times, and all three Rouse men at the 2025 event agreed that Music City should be the permanent home of the tournament. It’s so easy to have fun. No matter where you park (not everybody had the luxury of walking from their hotel), you’re set for the day. With so many restaurants, stores, and bars surrounding the arena, you can happily spend the whole day on Broadway.

You can even extend your time on Broadway into the wee hours of the next day, as we did the two evenings that U.K. played. With writing an article in mind, I believed it was my journalistic duty to visit as many nightspots as I could. Only one bar doorman insisted on stamping my hand; if they all wanted to stamp me, I would have finished Thursday and Friday nights with a full sleeve.

Even though they were long nights, I behaved myself. Clay did remind, though, that after following the boys into bar after bar, with each doorman asking me to show I was over 21, I started showing my Medicare card as proof of majority.  

Most bars on Broadway have several floors, often with a different band on each floor, allowing you to pick the music—and crowd intensity—you prefer. On the warm March evenings of our visit, we spent a lot of time on rooftop perches. It’s an amazing site to look down on the river of people and cars and party buses flowing down Broadway. And the rhythm on the roof was amazing. At one point, I could discern four distinct beats coming from bands’ booming speakers in nearby establishments—plus more thump-thumps pulsing from passing cars.

My taste in music is centered on Top 40 pop, especially from my younger years, though I will occasionally latch on to a current hit. I was happy to hear, while passing by the most crowded bar on Broadway, a good ol’ boy belting out “Pink Pony Club,” a song I first heard at Clay and Les’s wedding in November. Later, at another (smaller) bar, the lead singer of another band—also a good ol’ boy—asked for patrons to submit requests. When he read mine, he said “I’ll sing ‘Pink Pony Club’ … for a hunnerd dollars.”

I don’t like it that much.

We were active during the day, too. I’m a big believer in hop-on/hop-off tours, and we took a spin around town on Old Town Trolley Tours. The narrated ride gave us good insights, and while I saw many familiar sites, we hopped off at a stop new to me, the Nashville Farmers’ Market. With diverse food and drink offerings plus local makers selling their products and crafts, the indoor/outdoor market makes a great place to explore. We also hopped off in Midtown, knowing we could find excellent pizza near the Vanderbilt University campus.

What was most memorable from my weekends in Nashville was, oddly enough, a part of home. After Kentucky’s thrilling win on a buzzer-beater, Big Blue Nation flat-out roared. A sea of Kentucky fans that had engulfed the arena spilled out onto Broadway, where we were welcomed—and high-fived—by even more U.K. fans along the Broadway sidewalk and leaning out of bars. I was never more proud to wear “Kentucky” across my chest.

I will always remember that intense, shared experience of community … so many miles from home.

I don’t know if I’ll go back to Nashville for the SEC tournament; I think I got my what I needed from those crazy days and nights. Yet the city has so much to offer; I’m certain I’ll return. Nashville won’t be exactly the same, though… but neither will I.

And that’s as it should be.