The Other Nashville OR Embracin' the Country.

Ask anyone in the US about Nashville. Most will immediately assume you're talking about Nashville, Tennessee.

But a small section of the populace will think of a different Nashville. One nestled in the hills of Brown Country, Indiana.

This one:

Or rather, "This 'un."

Nashville is part artists retreat, part folksy small town, part tourist destination. Craft and curio shoppes line the main drag, not to mention the block off of the main drag.

One you get past that block, you've got maybe two blocks of houses before forested hills kick in.

Sometimes the forest doesn't even wait the two blocks.

But let us take a brief, not-at-all-thorough tour of the town. (I've said it once, I'll say it again: You want thorough? Get a travel guide.)

We'll begin with the crafts and folksy shoppes.

Sometimes both in one!

They are everywhere.

Count 'em: Nine shoppes just here. That's more than most Historic Downtowns.

And lest you think that's a huge area... It's pretty literally an alley:

Big cities have alleys between buildings.
Nashville has alleys between large trees and large stuffed animals.

Some establishments went for the more polished style of old-school charm:

I do declare...

While others embraced the rough and ready:

Those are, in order, a crystal/jewelry shoppe, fudge shoppe,
coffee shoppe, and candle/soap shoppe.

But honestly, whether charmin' or chahming, the whole reason to come here is for the old-fashioned style. And like all good merchants and respectable shoppe owners, the people here know that.

"Should we get some sort of unified design aesthetic?"
"Nah. Random IS our design aesthetic."

For these awesome shoppe owners, it's not enough to have a player piano in your ice cream shoppe entry hallway. No, it must be fully stocked in the Nashville/Muppet style:

And if you asked,
"Why would they have a player piano in a ice cream shoppe?"
then you probably don't belong in Nashville.

But let's take a second to step outside the ice cream shoppe. (Preferably with a very tasty banana shake like I did.)

First floor, ice cream, candy, and fudge.
Second floor... Why would anyone leave the first floor?

Astute students of architecture would probably notice a few things about this picture. Not being one, I have no idea what those would be.

But being one who vaguely pays attention to architecture and also someone with a fondness for history, I can tell they probably didn't build buildings like that back when this was being settled in the early 1800s. Probably.

I believe Informative Plaque tells me
they built rough wooden public houses in 1867.
Thank you, Informative Plaque.

Brick buildings like the above seem more late 1800s. Much like this sort of wood building:

The stoplight? Probably not an original fixture.
Probably.

Or the Brown County Court House.

Sshh! If no one can find the court, all us judges get to go home early!

Buildings like these imply that for a brief period, Nashville, like every other small town at the time, was moving forward into the future, embracing the new, boldly striding forth into the twentieth century kicking and screaming while dragging a big stick and talking softly.

Or something like that.

But somewhere along the way, they realized that wasn't really who they are. Sure it's a part of them, and they gladly accept it, but they learned to really embrace themselves.

Like the cheerleader who gets to college and suddenly remembers she likes "Icky Math."

Or in this case, old wooden buildings.

Because that one right up there? That's a modern building. Built in the old style.

With a Modern Alley.
(Punkish Hipster Joe not included.)

There are many who come to Nashville and talk about the rich art culture, the galleries, the crafts, the theaters (they're small, but there!), the restaurants, the junk food country food...

...but what I like about it is its sense of identity. Which, to be fair, is quite possibly, "I'm not sure what I am, but I'm damn proud to be it! An' if'n yeh don't like it, yeh can git out!"

And darn-tootin', sometimes a little countrifyin' is good fer waht ails ya'!