Pop Culture Paradise

Best piece of travel advice? Always wake up early. You never regret the adventures you find while trying to fill that extra time in your itinerary.

My second trip to Nashville was much more satisfying than my first, an ill-fated shopping trip that ended with the then-underage Jessica being turned away at the door of the infamous Coyote Ugly. I had learned at this point that the bar scene could be slightly overrated, I decided against a repeat visit, and instead ventured into the heart of downtown. Driving in the afternoon before, I was intrigued at the sight of The Incredible Hulk on advertisements for the Frist Art Museum. I knew superhero movies were popular, but surely Marvel Comics weren't considered a museum worthy exhibit. My interest piqued, I had to know what lay behind those billboard ads.

Waiting all morning for the Frist to open, I became impatient quickly. We were the first two visitors of the day, and for almost an hour, the only patrons. It was eerie to walk through so many of the exhibits in silence, which somehow seemed even quieter than normal, knowing we were alone. We walked the halls of Americana photographs, finding no connection to the life size Hulk portrait advertised outside. But then we turned the corner.

A 90s child, pretty much raised in front of a television, I was in heaven. Cartoons were everywhere. Every sterile, blank white wall was covered with Steamboat Willie, Daffy Duck, the original Tron film, or, of course, the Incredible Hulk. Starting in animation's earliest days, you progressed through the evolution of a truly underrated art form. Tim Burton's first stop animation short, "Vincent." Chuck Jones' "Duck Amuck." An incredible French stop motion of the chaotic scene in an apartment's kitchen, each character and action being introduced one by one, and then reversing back in an infinite loop. I watched it the longest, transfixed by the perfect perpetuity. I was lost in a world of creativity, and I meandered aimlessly for hours, moving from one comfy, padded bench to another, watching every pen stroke and computer generated effect the Frist had to offer that day.

The alarm on my phone went off, and I was shaken away from the animation hypnotism. My pre-arranged lunch plans suddenly seemed an inconvenience, and not the wonderfully exciting new experience I had believed only hours before. I could have easily made a second (or third) loop around that bottom floor exhibit, but the rest of Nashville was left to be seen.