Bodie Sattva

Sun Studio, on Union Avenue in Memphis

In the RV, we use the term "Bodhisattva" to refer to one who shows or teaches the way to enlightenment, similar to the classical Buddhist definition.

Of course, being taught or shown the path to enlightenment is not always an easy thing. We look at any difficulty as being an opportunity for examining one's self, and learning how to handle desire and disappointment in life.

Now, when one thinks of disappointment and hardships in the RV, one naturally looks to the dogs.

And not just any dog.

No, there's one who hands out hard lessons in humility and facing ones own weaknesses, on an almost daily level.

Guess who?

Yup.

Here's a recent shot of him - it's not very good, but it shows the surroundings we have right now, where we walk the dogs.

That's him on the left, running full tilt through the water. Good boy, Bodie. Stupid dog.

He likes the water. He likes mud too. We have a huge mat outside for Bodie to lie on, to keep himself clean and comfortable. If he goes to the very end of his leash, he can actually lie in a patch of mud.

Guess what?

Bodie goes to the end of his leash.

He also dumps his food bowl on the ground so the food gets all wet and inedible (apparently) and then takes his bowl and chews on it. Bodie likes to chew things. We have a whole bunch of blankets in the RV that started out as blankets, but are now promoted to dog blankets. They have great gaps in them. Thank you Bodie.

Oh, and my bed that deflated, so that I sleep on plywood for fun parts of each night - we think Bodie might have helped with all that. He definitely helped get the extra feathers out of the duvet. He's been a great help to all of us in showing us our limitations, and how life should be lived, by a dog who is always in the moment. Very in the moment, usually soaking wet, covered in mud, and bouncing all over the place.

Which brings us to Sun Studio. This is the place where Elvis recorded his first song, where B.B. King and Howling Wolf and Ike Turner and Johnny Cash and Jerry Lee Lewis and Carl Perkins and so many more began their careers. The first ever rock and roll song was recorded in this room.

And that's all it is, just one room, with a control room in the back and an office in the front. All the music happened in this one spot. There's an X on the floor where Elvis sang "That's All Right Mama," his breakthrough song that won him a contract.

Our tour guide put on "I Walk the Line" by Johnny Cash, which was recorded right where we were standing. He paused it, then showed us how Cash had woven paper through the strings of the guitar to get the distinctive sound we could hear in that song, then passed the guitar to a gray haired man in the tour, passed him a pick and asked him to strum it so we could hear it. The man did, and as the guide turned the music back on, the impromptu guitarist played and sang along, as the rest of us joined in.

A beautiful, spontaneous moment. I got the shot, showing the man's hand a blur on the strings with people around him in the hallowed studio. I got other shots as well; shots of the studio, shots of Ben with a microphone Elvis probably used to record his songs here.

I reviewed them all in the camera, and was very pleased and excited to have them - I thought they were some of the most meaningful ones I'd taken in a few months, and certainly in Memphis.

I brought them home, delicately tucked away inside the camera's memory card. I took the card out; I had plans for those pictures.

But of course, Bodhisattva had a lesson for me about the differences between desire, plans, and and simple enjoyment of whatever life holds.

Good boy Bodie. Stupid dog.