by Kelli Bowen
I was in my teens when Tim McGraw sang about his next 30 years, and I remember thinking I'd accomplish SO MANY things by the time I was the ripe old ancient age of 30...welp. I blinked and now I'm turning 40 this month. Woo.
Besides it being a nice round number, the start of my fifth decade (gross when you say it like that), this is also the age that my father was when he passed away, so this is an impactful year for me. This also gives me a more "live like you're dying" mentality. Woo! Tim McGraw again!
I didn't want this birthday to just blink by like the others, so in thinking of ways to mark the occasion, I thought - girl's trip? I haven't been on an elaborate girl's trip ever. I love music, so naturally: Nashville. I've never been, so I started checking with the usual suspects. I was able to convince two of my girlfriends to go and we threw together a trip in three weeks. Woo-hoo!
It was SO much fun, but guess what? Forty is old. I don't mean get-out-the-Metamucil-and-Matlock, but as I walked down Broadway in Nashville, I realized I'm getting old.
First of all: $23 per drink? Who are you people? I can buy a whole gol-dang bottle of Tito's for that. Seriously? What's the overhead here that you're charging THIS much per drink? Whew! (Starts looking at building structure to analyze efficiency and judging which waitstaff might be skimming.) Whooooo.
Also: why is the music SO loud? We can't even have a conversation. One of my favorite Nashville watering holes was a hotel lobby bar. The drinks weren't outrageous. All of the scantily clad cacklers hopped into cars and fled to the neon lights and chaos of downtown. Hello laid back acoustic-guitar-playing songwriter showcase. My name is Kelli and I think I love you. Wooty-wooty-woo.
Also: your bar OPENS at 7 p.m.?! I'm sorry - what? I've been out touring and walking since 9 a.m. so I'm ready to pack it in for the day around 8 p.m. I'm not old (or young) enough to take a nap, and I have things to see during the day, so if you don't open your doors until 7 p.m., you won't be seeing my face. Uuuuufda.
Finally: WHY so many woo-girls? Here a bachelorette party. There a bachelorette party. Everywhere a bachelorette party. Here a birthday party. There a birthday party. Everywhere were woo-girls. Young women, sometimes wearing matching attire, except for the "special" one (she was wearing the white cowboy hat with attached veil, the extra sparkly sash, or the extra-skimpy <fill in clothing item here>). Undoubtedly the pack of pucker-picture-takers were screeching "wooooooo!" while teetering on their brand-new heels or extra-fringe cowgirl boots that come with a side of extra-cringe for everyone exposed to them.
Also: Wooooooo 40!!
Kelli makes her home in Cass County with her husband, two daughters (8 and 5) and two dogs. She works for a regional seed company by day and tries to be an alright mom, wife, friend and writer by night.
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