One night these guys show up to a tiny show some friends and I were doing with all these TV cameras and lights and stuff. They're interviewing folks and taping us playing and just making a big deal. It felt pretty exciting. I wasn't exactly sure what the deal was, but I totally let myself imagine that it was all about me.

Next day I get a call from those same guys wanting me to be on a new reality singing show called Nashville Star. Being the cynic I am - I declined.

Couple of days later, I get another call :
"Travis, this is Tracy Gershon from Sony Nashville."
Well, hey Tracy.
"Just do the fuckin show!"

OK, since she put it that way --- I'm in. Plus, it beat the hell out of bartending and fixing toilets.

If you saw the show, you know what it was like. If you didn't it was the coolest thing I'd ever done to that point, reality show or not. My hometown was proud, my friends were proud, and I was proud of myself. I didn't win it, Buddy Jewell did. But that's not why I went. This was that rare chance you get to see what dreams flesh out like in reality. Pun intended.

See, when dreams are real you can't change the rules and the players like you can when you lying in bed thinking them up. You just have to work your ass off  to make this thing go. And work I did.

I met this brilliant little 19 year-old on Nashville Star, a cast-mate named Miranda Lambert. We started writing together and just generally sharing opinions on and frustrations with music and life. Another thing I hadn't really had - a music buddy that got what I was talking about. Fast friends.

So, that was Nashville Star.