“think I’ll slip on down to the oasis…”
A Nashville Tan
We hit the town like we hit every town, broke. Benny was solid on the fact that Conan could sing county better than most and who was I to stomp on any dogs dreams. So Nashville it was. We slept in the car until I found a job in a tanning salon. Oasis Tans. Benny stayed out back and Conan…well Conan was Conan.
Imagine your tanning just like Tuesday and the Friday before. You lay quietly for 20 mins toasting in your headphones and then you get up and this is looking up at you.
High pitched squeels that may or may not have been his. Phone calls, police sirens, and back doors. We never did see that record exec for Warner. I never did see that first weeks paycheck. West out of Nashville was a howling blur. But nothing compared to Russelville Arkansas and a Nuclear Reactor Scramble. I can’t blame the burro or the dog for that one. That one was all me.