By the time Friday night rolled around, CMA Fest had already done its best to remind me that I’m not twenty-five anymore. After spending Thursday bouncing between artist meetings, live performances, industry events, and enough late-night conversations to fill a season of a reality show, day two arrived with little sympathy. The Nashville sun had spent the afternoon cooking downtown at a respectable 87 degrees, and after miles of walking, countless handshakes, and more bottled water than I’d care to admit, the cool 60-degree evening air felt like a reward. That reward got even better when I found myself walking into The Local.