Before reading this post, you may want to brush-up on the List of Characters, just in case.
Living with Gentle and Lovely Hill has been a wonderful experience which has afforded me multiple opportunities to meet very interesting, and sometimes rather affluent, members of the Nashville community. One of those individuals is our next door neighbor, Ray Stevens. Yes, I mean the Ray Stevens, the famous country singer of our parents’ generation and the man who is known to be country music’s ‘funny guy.’
While Ray owns the house across from us, he is not currently living there because he is renovating. But from day one I have known that that is his house. Unfortunately, I never seen him. Our schedules go something like this: each day I leave for work around 7:15am. Some time not long after, Ray arrives and begins working on the house. When I arrive home from work around 4:30pm or 5:00pm, Ray and his crew are long gone for the day.
“Lovely,” I said to my hostess about halfway through my internship, “I have yet to meet Ray Stevens.”
“Really?” she said with slight surprise, “Well he’s over there every day.”
“I know,” I sighed “but he always gets there after I’ve left for work, and leaves before I come home. And when I do come home for lunch I never see him. I have to be honest, I really want him to sign my guitar. I mean, I’d hate to pass up such an opportunity.”
“Oh, I agree, that’s a great idea” she replied. “I didn’t realize you hadn’t seen him, but it makes sense. Well, next time I see him over there during lunch time I’ll have to call you so you know.”
“Yes, please! You can be my partner on the ‘Ray Stevens Look-out Squad.’”
Now, I confess I am neither a Ray Stevens fan nor a country music fan even in the slightest. I confess also that it has been rather difficult at times trying to navigate through the city which holds the Country Music Hall of Fame while having not just a distaste, but a strong, strong aversion to almost all country music (disclaimer: this aversion does not extend to various forms of folk, bluegrass, or southern rock). Regardless, a legend is a legend, and Ray Stevens is in fact a very well-known name in the country music world–known enough that even I had heard of him. Moreover, I was not going to spend my entire summer living next to him (technically) without, of course, getting my guitar signed by him if I could at all help it.
After I had enlisted the help of Lovely I began carrying a permanent marker in my purse to have ready-at-hand in the event that I spotted him. And sure enough, just a week later she called me with a crucial tip.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Anna. I’m sorry to bother you at work, but I just wanted to let you know that I just pulled out of the driveway to run errands, and when I did I saw Ray pullin’ in. So I know you said you weren’t coming home for lunch, but I think you should reconsider.”
“Amazing!” I exclaimed, checking the clock. It was 10:45am. “I’ll just take an early lunch in a few minutes and head home!”
“Okay! He’s driving a —–. Good luck!”
“Thanks!” The ten minutes I was moving like a mad dog. I checked my purse several times to make sure the permanent marker was where it should be. I admittedly did an internet image search of recent pictures of Ray, memorizing his face just to make sure I approached the right man when I walked over. Then I grabbed my keys, grabbed my guitar (which I’d brought to work that morning for a class I taught) and barreled home.
I arrived just after eleven o’clock and decided not to pull into our driveway since it leads around the back of the house. Instead, I pulled off and parked on the street in our front yard (common in our neighborhood). This not only put me directly across from his driveway so I could check for his car, but it also put me next to our mailbox, giving me a good excuse as I could fake like I was checking the mail on my way in (for a visual, click here). However as I got out of my car I noticed that his was not there. I saw trucks, I saw cars, but not the one Lovely said to be on the lookout for. Great, I thought, in the fifteen minutes it took me to drive across town, he left.
My simple diagram
“Excuse me,” I said very coolly.
“Yes?” He leaned on his shovel and looked at me with slight suspicion.
“Hi,” I said, with a smile and a very impressive mimic of the Tennessee ‘wide-mouth’ accent. If you want to charm a local it’s best to sound like one. “Is Mr. Stevens around?”
“No, ma’am, he’s just left.” This was disappointing.
“Oh, okay. I live across the street. I was just hoping to catch him. Thanks,” and I turned to walk back to my yard and into the house. But then–
“Oh, well he should be back some time. I don’t when, but he’s supposed to be back,” the man said with a little more trust in his voice.
“Oh,” I smiled, “well, great. Thank you,” and I went on my way. I walked inside the house pretty frustrated with the world’s timing. I only had about twenty minutes for lunch since I’d have to account for driving all the way back across town. I set my stuff down, walked into the kitchen and immediately began making a sandwich. But as I pulled the bread out of the bag I looked out the window and saw Ray Stevens’ vehicle back in the driveway! Ah, ha! He must have driven up just as I came in the house! Of course. Oh, please don’t leave! Please don’t leave! I didn’t want to go running over there like a mad woman, so instead I decided to wait it out, eat my sandwich and casually “catch him” when I left for work again. So there I sat, munching on ham and cheese and stalking him from behind the curtains in our dining room, constantly checking to make sure he hadn’t left. And when I finished my sandwich I very calmly grabbed my purse and headed back out to my car. But as I was making my way across our yard I saw Ray: getting into his car, and begin backing out! You have got to be kidding me! My timing was truly impeccable, but I was careful not to express this on my face, and kept walking.
As I opened my door, however, I saw that he was merely letting out a truck that his car had been blocking-in. This is perfect! I’ll just catch him when he gets out of his car.
The latter half of that thought was not necessary, because soon his car was slowing down, and when he was next to me he rolled down his window. He wants to meet the new neighbor, I thought. This could not have worked out better in my favor. I began subtly fishing for the permanent marker and braced myself for neighborly introductions.
“Hi,” I said enthusiastically as he slowed to a stop.
“Hey, there. Could you not park in front of my driveway?”
Wait . . . what?
“It’s really hard to get these trucks in and out if you’re parked there.” His face was a little thinner than it was in pictures and his voice was short and rather direct.
“Oh,” I said, blushing. This is not what I was expecting and certainly embarrassing. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t normally park here. I just came home for a quick lunch.”
“Yeah, ok. Well, I don’t know where else you could park, but it’d be good if it wasn’t here. It just makes it real difficult to get in and out.”
“Oh, right. No, I’ll just park in the driveway next time. I’m Anna, by the way,” and I held out my hand and he shook it. “I’m living here this summer with the Hills.”
“I’m Ray,” he said with a nod.
“Nice to meet you. Yeah, I’ll not park here. Sorry about that.”
“Thanks, ‘preciate it.” His car began rolling to pull into his driveway but I could not help myself–
“Ray Stevens, right?” I said with a smile.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“My mom is a big fan!” I said. I’m an idiot. Ray gave a final nod and then continued up into his driveway.
The permanent marker was burning a hole in my purse, I could feel it, but I decided that perhaps I would get his autograph another day.
Anna
