We forged new friendships with all the people around us in line, all while listening to acoustic versions of our favorite Jack songs performed by fellow fans around us.
I’ll spare you most of the details of the next eight hours, because it was a lot of standing, sitting, waiting, moving, not moving, wondering why we were not moving faster. I bought a slip mat, a magnet, and a couple of tokens to make an Airline guitar mold in the Third Man Novelty Shop. I went into the tiny crowded store and resisted the great urge to buy one of everything that was available for sale. Kindred spirits with likely not much in common other than our passionate love of music, and that was all we needed. I was standing with a small group of people that included men and women, teenagers to adults (am I an adult? No not yet, I don’t think) of different races, ages, and backgrounds, all bonding on a mutual love of music and Third Man Records. The one thing that really stood out to me that first afternoon in the parking lot in front of Third Man Records is that there was absolutely no pretension among fans. It is a reality of our modern lives, I had formed real connections with people I knew online, I just hadn’t classified it that way in my mind, because it seemed strange to say that I was friends with someone I had never met in person. In my anxiety I had convinced myself that these people were strangers, when in fact, we have been following each others lives online for years. Within minutes I felt comfortable, like I was hanging out with old friends, in fact these were old friends, people I have known in a certain capacity for years. It felt easy and natural and I knew instantly that my fears were unfounded. Before I knew it I was standing in a small group of people, all of whom I knew from years of online communications about our mutual love of Jack. I was here once before, but I had the giddiness of a school girl as I parked my car.īefore I could even cross the street, someone recognized me from our mutual online friendship and called out my name. This place was essentially the homeland of one my biggest passions. When I pulled into the parking lot of Third Man Records, or more accurately, the homeless mission across the street, my heart immediately started to pump. I was excited in theory, but I couldn’t shake my social anxieties. I am not a really social person outside my close circles, I generally have no interest in talking to strangers.
I was nervous that the friendships would be awkward, that I wouldn’t make any personal connections, or that I wouldn’t have patience or tolerance for people, or they wouldn’t have it for me. I am essentially going on a trip by myself to (hopefully) hang out with people I know only in an online world. The initial excitement of actually going to Nashville for Record Store Day, something that I have wanted to do for years, wore off rather quickly when the reality of the situation set in. I wrote a blog post before the trip about my apprehension about it. So what is there to write about? That I am crazy?
I overheard someone in line say something that made me chuckle, “I am standing in a ridiculously long line, in the cold, at the crack of dawn, to pay $30 for a record that I already own.” I could just add that I bought a plane ticket to get here so I could do it. In fact, there was a lot of standing, a lot of waiting, and much more napping than I usually get in over a week-end. There were no (personal) Jack White sightings, no surprise performances, no parties into the night (for me), no special unannounced releases. After all, I don’t have anything particularly exciting to report. I wondered if I was even going to write a blog post about my trip to Third Man Records in Nashville for Record Store Day.