(Have a look at my 40 pictures from the two-night trip.)

The evening action was best downtown, in a lower Broadway strip of honky tonks that was a bit of a mini-Bourbon Street, but without the pressure to drink till you turned inhuman. First-rate, full-time musicians catered to the tourist crowd (85%, as quoted to me by one singer) by playing contemporary country covers, from George Strait to Garth Brooks. The two most popular tunes were Toby Keith's I Love This Bar and the Charlie Daniels Band's Devil went Down to Georgia. If you're gonna play in Texas, the song goes, ya gotta have a fiddle in the band. And so it is in Nashville.

The daytime action was, well, nowhere. I'd expected to be wowed by huge guitar shops and an overwhelming musical personality. Instead, we walked and walked (and walked) from Music Row to around Vanderbilt to downtown — passing a million churches along the way — trying to find something distinctive. Instead we found exhaustion, though the gorgeous mid-70s weather was easy to deal with.

We stayed in the heart of Music Row, but unknown to us was that the name comes from the area's abundance of music industry offices and studios and not an indication of honky tonks, music shops or, god forbid, a decent place to eat. There is a strip of bars that's trying to define itself as a Nashville destination, but it wasn't nearly as lively as downtown, and certainly not before 10 p.m.

We hit perhaps the city's most popular tourist spot, the Country Music Hall of Fame, an attractive modern facility that pays homage to pioneers of a music genre that still isn't popular enough in New York to warrant a country radio station. On display were instruments and outfits played and worn by everyone from Johnny Cash to Faith Hill, plus an enormous wall display of gold and platinum albums, Elvis Presley's Cadillac limo and gold-plated piano and a ring of plaques honoring Hall inductees. I saw Willie Nelson's sneakers — which, no doubt, were kickin'. Alas, Dolly Parton's bra was nowhere to be found.

Other Tid-Bits

• My Orangemen took it on the chin in their Sweet 16 matchup with Alabama. They got beat every which way in the game, but credit the Crimson Tide for preparing for an unfamiliar team and executing in the clutch, specifically in terms of outside shooting. I'll take eight tournament wins in two years every time, so thanks to all the Orangemen who played so great over that span.

• Dale Earnhardt is alive and well in Nashville. One guy in Legends Corner played a bass that payed tribute to The Intimidator, and the Stage had a No. 3 guitar on its wall. Oh, Wrangler jeans are also alive and well down there.

• Bands are pretty aggressive with tips — passing around the tip jug every 30 minutes or so. Can't blame them, since there is no cover, but it is a different experience from New York, where bands make their money off a $5-10 cover charge.

• How can you tell that the honky tonks on Broadway between Fourth and Fifth Avenues are tourist spots? The Stage's ATM had a withdrawal limit of $100, with a $2.50 service charge.

• Average price of domestic bottles of beer were $3.50, about 25% percent less than in NYC.