Roadtrip Day 6: Welcome to Memphis

Welcome to Memphis, where everything is a hustle.  You are a tourist sucker, and my being friendly to you is merely a slick hustle.  Well, maybe not *quite* that pronounced, but that feeling certainly permeates beneath the surface of every single interaction at the bar and on the street.

Pardon the drunken ramblings above, we just got back from an evening on Beale Street, which was fun but you DO feel a bit like a fresh fish out on display for all the panhandlers and con artists.  Every single person that approached us was looking for some sort of handout or deal.  Lost?  Oh, let me help you! And, why, I just happen to have a map for your use.  And by the way, I am in charge of a homeless outreach program and we have five men who need beds tonight and we just happen to be $20 short, can you help us?

This same scenario happened about 4 times this evening.  The panhandlers were extremely aggressive compared to NYC.  The same guys would come up to you four or five times a night, even trot along with you, until you say no twice or more.  They would also come in the bars and restaurants, acting like patrons then going after the customers.  I saw some of the bartenders kick them out, but not all.  Maybe southern tourists are just more naive than Manhattan, because these people would not get very far in NYC.  At least in New York most panhandlers have a spiel (dance, sing, preach) instead of just harassing everyone for money.

We also are staying in a rather sketchy Red Roof Inn on the outskirts of town which is sandwiched in between two highway on-ramps .  The kind of place where a bunch of big floodlights face IN at the hotel, not out.  Given that we have lots of our worldly possessions packed to the brim in the Jeep, this is somewhat disconcerting.  We were woken up around 3:00am by some guests repeatedly honking their lowered, lime-green Honda Accord in the parking lot again and again.  Why were they honking?! Who knows.  The sheets and pillows are also complete itchy crap, but I guess at $49.99 a night and they allowed dogs, what was I expecting?!  I just hope our car hasn’t been ripped off when I go outside for a jog with Linus in a few minutes.

Regardless of the above, Memphis has still been cool and a fun place to visit.  We saw Graceland yesterday, which was nothing short of AWESOME!!! and then scarfed on some of the best ribs and chili I’ve ever had.  And the blues on Beale Street were fantastic.  So I guess Memphis, like the blues, needs the gritty to give it a bit of an edge.

Graceland!

Elvis' foyer

Basement room at Graceland

One side of the wall of gold records

tee hee

Pink Caddy!

We attempted to eat at the Rendezvous however it is closed Sunday and Mondays.  So our dinner last night was at second-choice Blues City, where we did get to see an awesome show of a Johnny Cash-eque band, Gary Hardy and the Memphis 2.

Dinner, despite it being our second-choice, was knock-yer-socks off good.  I started with the chili, Earl the spicy gumbo, and we both had the ribs (me: half, Earl: full).  The chili was incredible, and then when the ribs came, I was still enjoying my chili, but I was wondering if something was suddenly wrong with Earl.  He had stopped talking, COMPLETELY.  It was as if his sole purpose of existence was to scarf those ribs.  He barely came up for air.  Once I dug into mine, I understood.  All you had to do was pick up the bone and they would fall off.  So succulent, tender, and sweet.  The best ribs I have ever tasted, period.  When Earl was finished, he had to walk outside and call his best friend and tell him about the ribs! haha.

Background: Ribs, foreground: spicy seafood gumbo, chili

After dinner we walked around Beale Street, where you can stroll with your beers (how revolutionary!) and just poked into the better clubs with the best-sounding bands.  This one hole-in-the-wall joint was really rocking, and we stayed there for the rest of the night, enjoying the harmonica and blue-sy riffs of the Dr. Feelgood Potts Band.  They were awesome and played everything from “You Aint Nothin but a Hound Dog” to “Johnny B Goode” to his own music, which he was selling CDs of.  My favorite had to be the “My In-Laws (Ain’t Nothin‘ But Outlaws)” song, which is funny because my brother-in-law calls my parents “The Outlaws.”  Haha.  I am going to have to give him a copy of the CD (yes, we bought it, these guys were that darn good!).

Dr. Feelgood Potts killing it on the harmonica

Finally, because no roadtrip report would be complete without a picture of Linus, here you go!  We took him to Riverside Park yesterday on the Mississippi for a rousing game of fetch.  We actually can’t find the ball we bought him at the Field of Dreams (it is SOMEWHERE in the car, that thing is just so packed it’s like the Bermuda Triangle of stuff), so we’ve been playing fetch with an apple.

Linus, Memphis, and the Mississippi

Walking buddy on Beale

Today we’re heading to the Peabody in a bit to catch the ducks martching, then hunting for more BBQ, catching the Civil Rights Museum and Sun Studios, and finally poking around for more blues tonight.  Those ribs were so good last night, man… it’s going to be tempting to just go back and have the same thing all over again!!