Foodie Post I for Memphis

Will makes us breakfast most mornings, of fresh rice, eggs over medium, and sausages for the boys (I can't have sausages because they give me a migraine). This morning I was working away on a chapter that is due tomorrow and Ben started singing as he made up his plate. "I bring home the sausagggggge/Fry it up in a pan." Without missing a beat, Will chimed in "Eat it with some turtlessss/And a guy named Hungry Dan."

So we always have a wonderful breakfast. Even when we are being "healthy", Will cooks up steel-cut oats and I have it with fruit and milk. And the day always begins with really good coffee.

Here in Memphis we are eating well at every meal. Maybe too well. We had originally planned to stop in Memphis only briefly, on our way to Shiloh, Tennessee, the site of an important Civil War battle. But I found a really nice campground only six miles from Graceland, and then there is Beale Street, and Sun Records. And the National Civil Rights Museum, based in the motel where Martin Luther King was shot. I wrote a post for the last that was up for about an hour, but it was so negative I pulled it. I think I need to process for a while before I try writing about that again. It was incredibly moving and distressing.

Ben at Gus's World Famous Fried Chicken
So here we are still in Memphis a week later, and the idea of leaving tomorrow is killing me. I wonder if we are going to fall in love with every place we stay? I told Will that it feels like I start to put out little rootlets wherever we are, then it's time to move on and it's wrenching. It takes me a couple of days to recover. The boys are good to go for the next adventure, but I'm still pining for the last place. With Mom and Dad's place of course it's worse, that feels like I got pulled by my taproot. (Is this getting too weirdly biological? I'll stop now.)

I wanted to write about the food here, because I have had some of the best meals of my life in Memphis. Specifically, Gus's fried chicken and Cozy Corner ribs. Plus some other good stuff in between.

We knew that Memphis barbecue is world famous, but coming from Kansas City with it's terrific barbecue, we weren't too worked up about it. I had a long list of BBQ places to visit, based on friends' suggestions, Chowhound posts and reviews (here's a great one from a Memphis newspaper).

Heading into Gus's World Famous Fried Chicken
Will gets cravings for fried chicken, so the first place we visited wasn't barbecue, it was Gus's World Famous Fried Chicken, right off of Beale Street. It was a funky old diner and it took forever for the chicken to get to us, but I drank a whole lot of sweet tea (I love sweet tea! I love the south!) while we waited. It was worth the wait - the best fried chicken I have ever eaten. It's kind of spicy and Ben didn't really like it. Will said it was almost as good as Kentucky Fried Chicken (!!!!). The thighs were the best by far; I guess I'm no longer a breast woman, they just get too dry. I also ordered a piece of sweet potato pie, but couldn't finish it. I haven't had enough sweet potato pie to figure out whether it's just not my thing (not worth the calories) or that theirs wasn't great. I would have liked to have gone to the original Gus's in Mason, Tennessee, but I still give these guys five stars out of five. A definite "must visit" if you are in Memphis, especially because they are so close to Beale Street.

Our first BBQ place was Payne's, because EVERYBODY who lives in Memphis says they have the best BBQ pork sandwiches, chopped or shredded. This was quite an experience. The park we are camping in (T.O. Fuller State Park) is on the southern edge of Memphis, in a very rundown part of town. But I have never seen such a scary area as Payne's is in. The reviews called this part of town "sketchy" and said not to go there after dark. Over half the shops were boarded up and lots had weeds growing in front of them. I took comfort in the observation that our car was as old as most of the cars we saw there.

Payne's BBQ
We pulled up to Payne's and the front of the store was unprepossessing; some dusty plastic flowers and old newspapers in the front window. We walked in to a shop that, honestly, I am amazed hasn't been shut down. Big chunks of the ceiling were missing as were pieces of flooring. It looked like it hadn't been cleaned in about forty years and it *certainly* hadn't had new furniture or fixtures in that long. An old TV sitting on a chair was broadcasting an episode of Judge Judy.

The ceiling has seen better days, maybe 40 years ago or so
A guy walked slowly up to the counter from the back of the shop, which was completely dark. Before we could say anything he said "I don't have no ribs." That was okay, because we were there for the sandwiches. I asked for a diet coke and he said "I only got Coke." Ben asked for a Dr. Pepper and he repeated "I only got Coke." Ben tried one more time (he can be a bit slow) and asked for root beer and was told "I only got Coke." I felt like we were in the Monty Python cheese skit or the Saturday Night Live hamburger shop skit "No Pepsi, Coke".

The counter at Payne's BBQ
Turns out he only had Bubba Cola, which we nursed while waiting for our sandwiches. We couldn't see what was happening, since it was so dark in the back, but we heard loud chopping then silence then more chopping on and off for about ten minutes.

It was worth the wait. The sandwiches came on huge buns loaded with chopped barbecue pork and a mustardy cole slaw. I think the cole slaw put the sandwich into the realm of godlike, but both of the boys scraped it off theirs before eating. They still thought it was great.

Waiting for our sandwiches
I was disconcerted by my nervousness at being in this neighborhood. I thought about white people being killed by black people in ghettos (we hadn't seen another white person for miles) and I figured the number was probably ludicrously low, even when calculating it by person-hours in a ghetto. I wondered if I would have been as nervous in a white neighborhood that was this rundown, and I realized that I haven't ever seen such a thing. Which tells you something, doesn't it?

Next post: Cozy Corner and Central BBQ. Dyer's burgers and fries cooked in 100-year-old grease. Miss Cordelia's for breakfast and groceries.

I've Been to the Mountaintop

Delivered the day before his death.

I had forgotten King was assassinated in Memphis, until I read a sign on Beale Street that casually mentioned it as a factor in the area's decline.

I remember his assassination vividly, as I watched television alone one night and they interrupted programming to announce it. I had no idea who he was, but I went and told my mother, and she knew all about him. Like the JFK assassination, my experience of this event is colored by the reactions of the people around me. By the time Bobby Kennedy went down, I was politically and culturally savvy enough to have at least a partial grasp of it's meaning on my own.

I had seen signs for the Civil Right Museum; I had not realized it incorporated the Lorraine Motel, as well as the rooming house from which the shots were fired. I'd had the impression the hotel had become derelict, and possibly torn down. Obviously this is not the case.

Ben and I will go to the museum later today.

Graceland

Today Will, Mom and I went to Graceland. After a short, rainy drive, we pulled up to security and paid off the guard before proceeding into the park. We hopped into the shuttle that took us to the main attraction, Elvis’s house. We were all received at the gates of Graceland. I stood at Graceland’s doors, staring up into the spot in which Elvis had died.

I proceeded into the house. After looking at and learning about his living and dining room, we continued in through the rest of the downstairs (upstairs was off-limits, Elvis only brought people in the downstairs).


Elvis had a room made solely for watching TV! It had three TVs all on the same wall. This was so that Elvis could watch three different programs at once. He could watch news, entertainment and his own shows all at the same time! Also, one of the walls had the initials TCB on it. This meant taking care of business. Behind it, there was a thunderbolt, which was Elvis’s personal symbol.


Also, he had a pool room which him and his friends all played pool in whenever they hung out. Outside was Vernon’s office, with three desks for Elvis’s personal secretaries. After exiting the building, I saw the large back yard in which Elvis had horses and go-karts. Across the way were two buildings containing all of Elvis’s achievements.


At the very end of the tour was Elvis’s grave. It was placed right in between his parents and his grandmother. This was a very deep moment for me, as, even today, Elvis is still amazingly well-known. He was the one who really started what is, today, my favorite style of music. It was very possible to imagine after this wonderful tour, what Elvis’s life was like and how he died.
Afterwards, we had lunch. We continued on to the other attractions but, naturally, none were even close to as amazing as the first. There was one in which we toured the inside of Elvis’s private jets. This one was very cool, because it was so fancy. I mean heck, you could sleep in them. In another, we saw all of the cars that he had owned in his lifetime. The last and least exciting was the one describing his military career.

Received at Graceland

We are in Memphis for a few days, to see Graceland and Beale Street and try out some Memphis barbecue and fried chicken. Oh, and I have a chapter to complete. Then we move on to Shiloh so the boys can continue their study of Civil War battlefields.

We visited Graceland yesterday. It was expensive ($33 each), but I'm so glad we did it. It is a piece of Americana that anyone born in the last century should see if they get a chance. I've always loved Elvis's music, but I think it will be a much richer experience listening to him now.

Will and I were talking about how much our perception of Elvis has changed since we were kids. By the time we were aware of music, he had been out of the loop for a while - he just did movies from 1961-68, and they were pretty awful movies. His 1968 comeback concert was incredible, but then he rapidly became "70s Elvis", "Vegas Elvis". When I saw his concerts (on TV, never live) I saw a portrait in excess - the jewelry, the sequin-encrusted jumpsuits, the bloated, sweaty face. His fans seemed to be exclusively older women who had seen him in his beautiful, beautiful youth and kept the faith. And then all the weirdness after he died, the hysteria and then the "sightings" of his ghost. His music got lost in all that.

Paul Simon's album Graceland (which I think is one of the most brilliant albums of all time, with a title track that is one of the most brilliant songs of all time) gave me a different spin on Elvis. I'm trying to think of what it was about it that did that. I love the idea of embracing the excesses of popular culture, that it doesn't have to be highbrow to be worthwhile. The idea of redemption through music. The idea of being part of a community of pilgrims, all suffering, all seeking.

Honestly, I think Graceland (Paul Simon's Graceland) changed me forever. It's a powerful message, to be reminded that we are all in it together, all feeling the same things and wanting the same things. A great message to get at the start of graduate school, when it is very easy to get wrapped way up inside your own head and disconnect from the people around you.

So maybe the visit to Graceland was as much about Paul Simon's vision of Graceland as it was about Elvis's Graceland.

But it did give me insight into Elvis. The most endearing thing to me about him was his love for his family and his home. There is a video clip of him right after he had come back from serving in the Army, where reporters ask him if he is going to sell Graceland and he says that Graceland is home and he always wants to be there (I don't have that exactly right, but that's the gist of it).

There's not much else endearing about him, honestly. The bling and the excess are amusing. His voice is phenomenal and his music is still so powerful. Especially listening to it here, where it all began. But the strongest message I got here - and probably each of us gets a different message, depending on what we are looking for and what we are needing - is his deep sense of place, in the heart of the South and the heart of his family.

Elvis lives.

Glory Glory

Graceland.

The mansion is surprisingly small to have housed such a larger than life icon. While it's flamboyantly decorated, I remember my own home in the seventies having orange carpets, and even an orange couch. Those were times of extravagant statements, and Elvis' home is forever frozen in that time. Plus, hey, it's Elvis. If anybody should be free of the beige walls and subdued tones of modern decorating, it's him.

What makes the place compelling is knowing that you are looking at the rooms he lived in, walked around, and sang in. Rooms of legend, such as the Music Room, the Jungle Room, and the TV Room. They seem very simple, almost unassuming considering how big they loom in the Elvis mythos, for they are really only rooms, not all that different from the rooms in anybody's house. So much of the drama of Elvis' life played out in this little space; they seem too slight to have contained it all.

The rooms, and the grounds themselves are really only touchstones to help one reflect on the whole story of Elvis - his impact on society, and the way he chose to seek happiness. He's a powerful figure; just walking the length of the trophy hall and the yards of gold records flanking the wall says so much.

And then at the end of it all you see his grave, the tributes of his fans, and the resting places of his grandmother and parents. Above all else, you get a strong sense of Elvis as a family man, not just his own family but those who worked for him as well. He's the poor boy who made good, and didn't forget anyone.

Good place to visit - something to take with you when leave for sure.

They had this video playing on a monitor in there. The finale, well, it's Elvis in full glory. Awesome.



Rest in peace dude.

Six Miles from Graceland

We came into Memphis on a rain-scattered evening; setting up to discover we were only six miles from Graceland.

Almost there. Sleeping in the shadow of Elvis tonight.

We started at seven this morning, and traveled singing along with Graceland, Walking in Memphis, and a slew of Elvis songs. We've called it a pilgrimage, in the spirit of Paul Simon, and a little reflection makes me realize how pivotal his song was in bringing me here.

When Elvis died, the sensational aspects of his life overwhelmed the art. For so long he was a joke, simply fat Elvis, who died unpoetically.

But Paul Simon, in the leavings of a dying marriage, felt compelled to visit Graceland, the center of everything lurid and tacky about Elvis, and turned it into a spiritual journey. Suddenly Graceland had a deeper meaning.

Was the meaning there all along, or did Paul Simon impart a meaning where previously there was none?

Or is meaning simply where we decide to find it?

Ever since 1986 I have wanted to visit Graceland. Twenty some years have gone by, in which I've learned to see the sublime in the trivial, and the sacred in the profane. And now tomorrow I walk up to Graceland at last.

Is it too much to hope for a spiritual moment, a fleeting touch of the grace and forgiveness we crave?

Well then how about a shot glass?

Long live the King...

I have reason to believe ...

I'm going to Graceland,
For reasons I cannot explain
There's some part of me wants to see
Graceland,
And I may be obliged to defend
Every love every ending
Or maybe there's no obligations now,
Maybe I've a reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland





Put on my blue suede shoes
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues
In the middle of the pouring rain



We head out tomorrow for Memphis.