Nashville Rocks! I Kid You Not

I love Kid Rock. I really do. Now I can envision the Cosmos staggering to a pause, filtering those words for sarcasm. But they contain none. Kid Rock Rocks! The guy, by all accounts, should have faded into MC Hammerdom long before 1998’s Devil Without a Cause sold its ten millionth copy. But no! Cat Daddy came right back and sold four million copies of his follow-up. And then he did the unthinkable—he successfully crossed over and linked himself to Nashville. Not an easy chore. And he became a sincere and close friend to Hank Williams, Jr. The two taped a memorable Crossroads for CMT in December of 2001. Since then, Kid has been in town several times. Rumor had it that he and Hank would take private jets around the country to restaurants and clubs they favored. Occasionally Pamela Anderson would accompany them. Kid and Pam were in town for the Country Music “Flameworthy Awards” a couple years ago and got into a tabloid-worthy spat at one of Nashville’s Pretty People Places. Think about it, even during creative lulls, Kid is in the news.

This week is no exception. Kid was in town Tuesday for legend Merle Kilgore’s funeral services at the Ryman where he sang and played guitar. By Wednesday at 7 am, he had allegedly punched a DJ at one of our strip clubs, eluded Nashville’s finest by going to another strip club, avoided a possible DUI by signing an autograph (resulting in the firing of a Vanderbilt University police officer), was finally arrested on a misdemeanor assault charge, and was freed on $3,000.00 bail. One of the arresting officers held Kid’s hat while Kid was processed—both of them grinning and laughing like old friends. And I think that’s what gets me about Kid. The guy is likable. He passes my “I’d like to have a beer with him” measure of a person. That arguably could include 99.9% of the world’s population (Oral Roberts still pisses me off) but realistically speaks to a far lower percentage. During every interview of his that I’ve seen or read, the guy looks to be having a good time. I admire that. He doesn’t seem to sweat the small shit. That’s a task I’ve yet to master. People who have mastered it intrigue me mightily. Again, look at this fucker. By all rights he should be doing jello shots and drinking cheap margaritas out of a cracked Solo cup from the steps of his trailer. But he’s not. He’s traveling the world and having fun. Hell, he’s getting paid big to travel and have fun. I admire that. And while he could go toe to toe with Shrek in a beauty contest he consistently dates beautiful women. I like that. He started out as a Michigan DJ; but he has gone on to sell a gazillion records, has been in mainstream films, and last Tuesday sang a tribute at Merle Kilgore’s funeral. I love that. The guy is charming in all the ways he shouldn’t be. I like him for reasons even I don’t fully understand. Lest we forget, Kid got to be Kid by being irreverent and rowdy. He crossed over being irreverent, rowdy, and surprisingly talented. He maintains a fan base of sorts by being just that: irreverent, rowdy, talented, and likable. So he punched a strip club DJ. Not cool, to be sure. But hey, it was a strip club DJ. The guy will walk away with some money and a story to tell. And who’s to say Kid didn’t take a shot to the snout back in his own DJ days? Let’s call it a character builder and move on. Kid, fight your way back to Nashville anytime—this town’s lousy with strip club DJs. In the meantime…I'm packing up my game and I'm a head out west where real women come equipped with scripts and fake breasts…I wanna be a Cowboy baby!

Yeah, I know, but how could I not?