On Broadway he surveys the streetscape like a proprietor. Tootsie's is only one of several honky-tonks on the block, along with Robert's Western World, the Bluegrass Inn, Second Fiddle, and Nashville Crossroads. These bars with stages are the most reliable venues for visitors to hear real live country music in its element. The storied Ernest Tubb Record Shop and some bar-bars are also on the street. Hatch Show Print, whose vintage posters are my favorite Nashville souvenirs, is one block down. The Nashville Arena and the Country Music Hall of Fame are one block up. It takes less than a minute for a crowd to materialize once George hits the pavement, smiling a smile that telegraphs he made his peace with celebrity long ago.
Pickin' 'n' Grinnin'
George beelines down the block, ducking into a storefront on the corner. The sign above the entrance reads Gruhn Guitars. "Gruhn is the place in Nashville for guitars," George says as he gazes around twelve thousand square feet of vintage guitars like a kid in a candy shop. Within seconds, he plops on a stool, picks up an instrument, and commences to make sweet harmonies with his backup singers, Sheri Copeland and Barry Smith, running through "How Beautiful Heaven Must Be," "Will the Circle Be Unbroken," "Keep on the Sunny Side," and "I'll Fly Away," his voice hitting the notes as no one else can. Each pause between songs is met by a rousing round of applause from the growing audience that has followed him into the store. He is clearly in his element. When he stumbles on the lyrics of one of his own songs, "We're Gonna Hold On," he jokes to the gathering, "I didn't write the song by myself. The other guy knows the rest of it."
George wraps up the miniconcert after glancing at his watch. It's time to go. There's more to see.
Stars Crossed Paths
As George sneaks out the back entrance of Gruhn Guitars to his waiting van (he knows all the hidey-holes in Nashville), he is surprised by Shooter Jennings and a camera crew making a pilot for a reality show starring Jennings for the CMT network. George has known the son of the late Waylon Jennings and Jessi Colter since Shooter was a baby ("He was raised pretty good by his mama, I tell you") and delivered a resounding endorsement at the beginning of Jennings's debut album.
The two musicians hug, smile, and catch up while another crowd gathers, joined by a Gray Line tour bus that screeches to a halt when the driver notices the sidewalk rendezvous. George and Shooter revert to a dialect familiar to those in the "bidness."
"How long you gonna be in town?"
"We play the Gaylord Friday."
"Friday? I have to go to work myself Thursday. I'll be back in Sunday; maybe you can come see us. I'd love to take y'all out. Give me a call. You got my number?"
"Yeah, I got your number. I was nervous to call because everyone else is [calling]."
"What are you nervous about? You got you a hit going. Well, we'll catch you later. See you Sunday, I hope."
As Shooter and entourage depart, more fans move in for autographs, including a bearded fan with a dog.
"Hey, Buddy, say hi to George Jones!" the fan with the canine says.
Judging from how its tail is wagging, the shepherd's a huge George Jones fan, too.
"Now I know what ol' Hank Williams went through," George murmurs as he struggles up the stairs into the side entrance of the Ryman and heads back to the dressing room to gather his gear. He's peopled out and clearly looking forward to our last stop—his buddy, Manuel the tailor, whose shop near Music Row is one destination few out-of-towners are aware of.
If they only knew.
Dressed to Thrill
Manuel Cuevas is hardly just any tailor. He's the Picasso of Nashville clothiers, whose flamboyant, sparkly stage creations have adorned the figures of Dwight Yoakam, Trisha Yearwood, Johnny Cash, the Rolling Stones, Linda Ronstadt, and Bob Dylan, among others. Two of Elvis's white rhinestone jumpsuits were Manuel originals.