TUBACHRISTMAS: My Sign of the Season

Walgreen’s may put up garland and tinsel the day after Halloween, but that and all the other premature signs of Christmas are a flop. Christmas doesn’t reign in my heart until I hear a sanctuary filled with the sound of 130 tubas.

It’s TUBACHRISTMAS, a time when people with big brass instruments converge to toot out deliriously delightful renditions of “Walking in a Winter Wonderland” and solemn and touching versions of “Silent Night.” The assembled spectators sing along. It’s like “Mitch Miller Meets John Philip Sousa.”

TUBACHRISTMAS for me is in Nashville, adding another layer to the city’s well-earned nickname of Music City U.S.A.

The first TUBACHRISTMAS was in New York in 1974, and Nashville’s began in 1986. It echoed through several acoustically challenged venues before settling at First Baptist Church, where the sound is fine, and the pews are comfortable.

After the first New York gig, a movement began, and you now can hear TUBACHRISTMAS performances across the nation. You’ll find a list at, you guessed it, http://www.tubachristmas.com/ <http://www.tubachristmas.com/> .

A spot check of states for 2009 shows four in West Virginia, nine in Indiana, 10 in California and 12 in New York. There are even enough tuba players in North Dakota for three TUBACHRISTMAS events.

All of these performances are a tribute to a William Bell, born on Christmas Day 1902 and acknowledged as America’s premier tuba player and teacher of the 20th Century. He played for John Philip Sousa and Toscanini. The idea is to honor “all great artists/teachers whose legacy has given us high performance standards,” says the TUBACHRISTMAS Web site.

While anything but a church service, the Nashville TUBACHRISTMAS has an appropriate touch. The Baptists allow a collection after the performance to support a weekly meal for the homeless just down the street at Downtown Presbyterian Church, a venue where TUBACHRISTMAS once played.

If my own Christmas spirit wanes, I know I easily can tune it up again. There is another TUBACHRISTMAS this Saturday just up the road in Paducah, Ky. It may be my last chance to hear "Santa Wants a Tuba for Christmas" this season.

Insights from a Week in Guadalajara

• Mexican fashion models are the prettiest in the world. I’m no fan of “Project Runway” or “Make Me a Supermodel,” but I know pretty when I see it, as I did at a show of Takasami fashions at the Cabanas Cultural Institute. Most visitors remember this cultural attraction for a stunning mural by Jose Clemente Orozco, but not me.

• “Guadalajara” comes from Arabic (“Wad-al-hidjard,” meaning “river that flushes on rocks”). How’s that, you ask? The conquistador who laid European claim to this land 450 years ago named it for his province in Spain, Guadalajara, transplanting a Moorish influence to the New World.

• “Un momento” doesn’t really mean “one minute.”

• Speaking of time, Guadalajara is on Central Time, even though it’s west of Denver.

• Crossing a city street here is a blood sport or at least an exercise in agility, depth perception and mind reading. This is a metro area of four million people and almost as many cars. Everyone is in a rush to get somewhere, and woe be unto the unwary pedestrian.

• Translated signs are a delight. Example: At the Presidente InterContinental Hotel, swimming pool rules are in Spanish and English. The messages are expected (“No Running,” “No Diving,” “No Lifeguard on Duty”) until you get to the priceless last one. Its dictate is “Please Do Not Make Scandal.”

• A few words in Spanish—and a smile—go a long way in the quest for good international relations. “Cerveza” and “banos” don’t count, by the way. Stumbling through a breakfast menu, chatting with a taxi driver or simply exchanging greetings with a fellow museum-goer make the day happier.

• Guadalajara is high country—5,000 feet elevation—so adjusting might take a little while. An “altitude headache” sounds better than admitting you have a hangover headache, anyway.

• Speaking of hangovers, the town of Tequila is about an hour’s drive from Guadalajara. It’s the home of Jose Cuervo, which has been making tequila (since 1795) longer than Mexico has been independent (its fight for autonomy started in 1810).

• It was just outside Guadalajara that I learned rock climbing is not my favorite sport. However, a day’s expedition with Eco-Tours Guadalajara also includes rappelling and a zip-line. The location was a rugged, boulder-strewn place called El Diente, named for a gigantic tooth-shaped rock formation, not for climbers’ dislodged teeth.

• With practice, it really is possible to pronounce Tlaquepaque, a once-separate artisan community now part of metro Guadalajara.

• If you don’t like mariachi music, you’re in the wrong place. Mariachi started here, so enjoy it just the way you would enjoy country music in Nashville or Dixieland jazz in New Orleans.

• Guadalajara is Mexico’s Silicon Valley, but I decided its most important industrial asset is a huge and impressive Corona brewery. Corona, Pacifico and Estrella all come flowing out of this location.

• Expect to see Guadalajara on ESPN a lot in 2011. That’s when this lovely city will host the Pan American Games.

(Perhaps your best planning tool for visiting Guadalajara is the Moon Handbook by Bruce Whipperman, an expert on Mexico and a member of the Society of American Travel Writers.)

Guadalajara: Mexico Without the Beach

For many Americans, a Mexican vacation is strictly a coastal experience filled with sun, sand, tequila and cerveza.

Think Cancun or Cozumel on the Gulf of Mexico and Mazatlan or Puerto Vallarta on the Pacific coast. If you’re old enough, conjure up those memories of Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor in “Night of the Iguana.”

Visitors who never leave the coast are missing the real Mexico. It’s a huge country, and the inland city of Guadalajara is an easy location for a full Mexican immersion.

Colonial history and the story of Mexico’s struggle for independence combine with world-famous murals to give Guadalajara, now Mexico’s second largest city, its vibe. Like Denver, it’s a highland city at an elevation of 5,000 above sea level, so you might find yourself catching your breath for that reason as well as the stunning architecture and art you encounter.

Murals by Jose Clemente Orozco, Guillermo Chavez Vega, Gabriel Flores, David Alfaro Siqueiros and others are the targets of many art tours. Magnificent tales are told on grand scales inside city hall, libraries, the judicial palace and the Cabanas Cultural Institute, a labyrinth that once was an orphanage and now is a treasure of a museum.

With more than four million residents in the city and surrounding metro area, this place bustles . . . and sprawls. Two formerly outlying villages—Tonala and Tlaquepaque—are known for their artists and craftsmen who produce everything from decorative metal sculptures to huge and whimsical papier mache animals.

Just outside the city on Lake Chapala are significant second-home and retirement communities populated by U.S. and Canadian citizens drawn to the region’s year-round mild climate.

Inside the city is a high-volume Corona brewery churning out Corona, Pacifico and Estrella for thirsty locals and tourists alike, and only about an hour’s drive away—past expansive fields of agave—is Tequila. This little town is Nirvana for imbibers of the beverage that bears its name. Jose Cuervo lives here, and throughout the region you can find 200 tequila makers, each a bit different from the last.

Complementing the art, architecture, beer and tequila is a Guadalajara-area location high on the list of rock-climbing enthusiasts. It’s a region of cliffs and boulders not 10 miles from the center of town called El Diente (the Tooth) because of the shape of one particularly popular formation. Eco-Tours Guadalajara will take you there and provide you with a zip-line, rappelling, rock-climbing and mountain biking experience to remember.

Even if you never venture inland from the coast to Guadalajara, it’s a virtual certainty you’ll encounter Guadalajara’s universally known export while in Mexico. Guadalajara, you see, is where mariachi music originated. Salud!

(For a serious research tool for planning a Guadalajara trip, find the Moon Handbook to the city by Society of American Travel Writers member and Mexico expert Bruce Whipperman.)

This Sport's Not For Me

It was at El Diente that I decided rock climbing is not my sport of choice.

My decision came about 40 feet up an almost-vertical rock wall in the craggy highlands just outside Guadalajara, Mexico. 

The location certainly was pretty—towering cliffs, giant boulders, blue sky, the outline of Guadalajara’s skyscrapers on the horizon about 10 miles away.

I even had a good instructor, Paco, who really was more of a coach-cheerleader-parent than instructor.  He continually shouted words of encouragement (“You can do it! I know you can!”) and assured me that the rope belay would return me to terra firma safely after I reached the goal.

The site was El Diente, an area of towering cliffs and huge boulders popular with folks who really enjoy trying to imitate Spiderman. 

El Diente (the Tooth) is named not for climbers’ teeth scattered on the ground but for a rock that actually does look like a tooth. Others in the vicinity were named the Octopus, the Skull and the Dinosaur Garden. 

I was there with a splinter group from a convention that was looking for some exercise and cheap thrills.  Why play golf like sane people when you can have fun dangling on a rope?

Eco-Tours Guadalajara, a company of athletic and mostly bi-lingual twenty-somethings, organized the mini-expedition.  Owner Luis Medina had charted a flight on a zip-line, a rappel down a 100-foot-tall boulder and the rock wall ascent. All of that was before lunch.  A short hike rounded out the day because there just wasn’t enough time for the normal fourth activity—mountain biking.

Medina is a pioneer in eco-tourism in Jalisco, the sprawling Mexican state that includes the beach resort of Puerto Vallarta, the metropolis of Guadalajara and even Tequila, the town where Jose Cuervo started making the Mexican national drink in 1795.

In fact, one of Eco-Tours Guadalajara’s most appealing tours has Tequila as its destination.  However, that outing includes tours of agave fields and then rappelling down a waterfall and taking a river swim before you get to the distillery tour.  One thing’s certain—you’ll be ready for a sample when you do get to Tequila.

Medina said the very idea of enjoying nature for nature’s sake has been slow to take root, but he feels a sense of accomplishment whenever he gains a convert, especially a Mexican convert.  He taught school for a decade before venturing into eco-tourism, but it’s clear he still has the heart of a teacher.

“The difference now,” he said, “is that my classroom has no walls.”

(For a serious research tool for planning a Guadalajara trip, find the Moon Handbook to the city by Society of American Travel Writers member and Mexico expert Bruce Whipperman.)

 

 

 

Country Music Half-Marathon 2009 Retrospective

Adkinson Shocks Half-Marathon Crowd With Personal Best Time

Heat derails amateur scientist’s recovery research, prompts visions of Porter Wagoner

NASHVILLE, Tenn. (April 28, 2009)—Public relations guy, amateur scientist and very-occasional runner Tom Adkinson surprised the field of almost 23,000 runners in Saturday’s Country Music Half-Marathon by setting a personal best of 2 hours 32 minutes.

“My group got to the starting line about 7:45 a.m., and I got behind a really nice guy carrying a sign that said ‘2:30.’ I thought that meant we’d cross the finish line at 2:30 p.m. To my amazement, his intention was to run the whole 13.1 miles in 2 hours 30 minutes,” the red-faced, salt-deprived Adkinson gasped at the end.

His time of 2:32:00 shaved a whopping 10 minutes off his previous record but left unresolved the question of when a number begins to “whop.” The previous record came in the same race two years ago.

“This was only the second one of these silly races I’ve been in, so I knew one of them would be my personal best,” Adkinson said, noting that Jimmy Buffett on his iPod carried him through the first half of the race and the mesmerizing motion of a young female runner in very short University of Tennessee running shorts kept him going from miles 8 through 11.

The 22,749 runners in the half-marathon and another 4,122 in the companion full marathon (26.2 miles) had to cope with a veritable heat wave. Temperatures were above 70 as runners started and into the 80s as they finished.

As Adkinson had predicted, “some guy from Kenya” won the full marathon with a time of 2:13:41.

Adkinson’s run was sponsored in part by B.A.R., Beer and Advil Research, a group Adkinson said will organize officially someday.

“Our research project was to study the beneficial effects of copious amounts of beer and Advil for the occasional runner. Heat-related stomach cramps derailed that plan, but I’ll at least get to the beer part of the research soon enough,” Adkinson said.

Adkinson drew an amused mix of media and onlookers to a post-race news conference he scheduled next to a long row of port-a-johns.

“He seemed sort of loopy, but his norm is so off-base that it was difficult to tell whether anything really was wrong,” said one reporter over the noise of slamming port-a-john doors.

At the news conference, Adkinson seemed to channel Grand Ole Opry great Porter Wagoner (“I’ve enjoyed as much of this as I can stand”) and then professional boxer Roberto Duran (“No mas, no mas”).

The “no mas” comment made reporters wonder about Adkinson’s plans for the 2010 race. However, a female runner in very short UT running shorts strolled by, and the press corps turned its attention there.

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The Run-up to the Country Music Marathon

Adkinson Questions Own Sanity, Renews Marathon Research

Alcohol, drug research study set for April 25 at Country Music Half-Marathon

NASHVILLE, Tenn. (April 2009) – Nashville public relations executive and amateur scientist Tom Adkinson has surprised the research world by committing to a second study of the value of beer and OTC drugs in Nashville’s Country Music Half-Marathon on April 25.

His first study was two years ago at the same event when he competed on behalf of B.A.R. (Beer and Advil Research), a non-profit entity that remains unincorporated. He’s running for B.A.R. again.

“I question my own sanity. Two out of the three doctors I patronize didn’t really encourage me, and I’m not sure that the doc who did really likes me and wants to keep me as a patient,” Adkinson, 58, said. “Still, the research needs to be done.”

The questions, he said, are when to take copious doses of Advil and what amounts of post-race Miller Genuine Draft are appropriate for rehydration.

“The race in 2007 settled the question that Miller Genuine Draft is the right brand. Low-carb beers are useless, and besides, MGD is my favorite,” the aging and occasional athlete observed.

The Country Music Half-Marathon again will be a family affair for Adkinson. His son, Bennett, is a serious runner who says he expects to wait at the finish line for his father “for at least an hour, but probably much more. Adkinson’s daughter, Ruth, ran in 2007, but Adkinson noted that she’s gotten smarter since 2007 and didn’t sign up this year.

Research aside, Adkinson said he plans to petition race organizers to officially recognize his competition pace, something he calls “a fast waddle.”

Adkinson has taken preparation somewhat more seriously for this race than he did in 2007.

“I gave up french fries again, but this time, I actually bought a pair of running shoes that fit and have tried them out a time or two,” he explained.

The Country Music Half-Marathon and the companion full marathon will draw approximately 30,000 participants to run past Nashville landmarks such as Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge and the Idle Hour Tavern on Music Row.

“Some scrawny guy from Kenya will win it, and I guarantee that I’ll accomplish my goal, which is to finish before sunset,” Adkinson said.

Adkinson said contributions of any amount to B.A.R. research are appreciated and will be used in a transparent and fully accountable fashion. He said likely contributors know where to send the money.

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