That moment when you remember why you love where you live…

I was driving down the street, slightly frustrated with traffic. As I waited to move forward, I began paying attention to this guy on the sidewalk. There wasn’t a bus stop there. He wasn’t going anywhere but he was moving around, with headphones on. Then he began dancing. Eric Church “Smoke A Little Smoke” came on my car stereo. I couldn’t believe the guy dancing was right in the rhythm of the song, and I thought to myself, I love Nashville.

Caught her with the right hook

No, not Sandy Hook. Not a song hook. Fish hook. It’s a nickname my friends and I gave to a girl we once knew. Her name? I believe it was Nikki. Or Nicki. Definitely not Nicollete… which by the way is one of my favorite names. Nicki Nikki had a crush on one of us, we’ll call him Nat King Cole. Nicki Nikki liked Nat. Nat knew. Nat and Nicki Nikki never needed nuptuals because while she was falling for him, he was nope for her. Why call her Fish Hook? Because she took the bait. She was hooked. Nat reeled her in but not to keep, he threw her back. It was better for him that way. It was better for her that way. Catch and release. Catch and release. Catch and keep if they measure up. Dinner is served. But Nicki Nikki back in the baiting game, the dating game, without Nat King Cole.

So where is she now? Perhaps you need to bait your hook to find out.