Memphis

I actually didn't do a whole hell of a lot in Memphis, but I had a fantastic time there anyway. My first stop when I got into town was the local Kroger. All I had left of the food I bought in Portland on my way out of town was some stale bagels and freaking goldfish crackers. I should have known the goldfish would stick around. It always seems like a good idea to get them but I get bored with them almost instantly. Anyway, I was ready for a new taste sensation at that point.

Kroger was a hell of an experience because the population that shopped at the particular Kroger I visited was mostly African American. This was such a change from Portland and really from anywhere I had been so far on the trip. So I was one of maybe three white people in the whole store, which I found fascinating from a sociological perspective. Here I had the unique opportunity to feel, at least the tiniest bit, what it might feel like to be part of a minority population. Even the short experience of getting my groceries at a store where I was the minority was intensely eye-opening. I felt completely out of place and on edge, as if at any moment one of the other shoppers would decide that I didn't belong there and throw me out. Of course that didn't happen and everyone was just as friendly as they would be in any other grocery store.

I had found Pilgrim House hostel online during the giant rejiggering of the itinerary in Tucson. Initially I had had reservations about staying there because it is affiliated with a church. In fact, the hostel is actually in the rear of the church. I was almost expecting the same reception as I did in the grocery store...they would take one look at me and realize I was a total heathen and eject me from the hostel immediately. I am all about the irrational thoughts sometimes. So of course I get there and the people running the hostel are entirely lovely people and there is no bible-thumping and no sideways glances at the blue in my hair or the nose piercing and everything is just fine. With no drama whatsoever, I paid my money, was handed my linens and shown to my bed.

At that moment, the only thing in the world I wanted was to wash the Oklahoma City off of me, so I grabbed my shower things and headed for the bathrooms. One of the great things about this hostel is that instead of one big community bathroom they had a row of individual bathrooms. Lots of nice privacy there. Anyway, I had an excellent shower and then spent the rest of the evening futzing around on the internet and eavesdropping on the other hostelees.

When I woke up the next day I had one simple goal in mind: find a laundromat. So I turned my phone on, did a quick search, and found Washtown.

Washtown was everything I wanted it to be, in that it had washing machines and dryers that seemed to work. The rest, like the Ms. Pac Man machine, the vending machine that stocked Tahitian Treat (right??) and the incredible people watching were just gravy. As I waited for my clothes to wash, I attempted to finish the rest of Northanger Abbey. A young(ish) gentleman walked by and said, "Oh you like books, huh? Well I've got some books at the house...want to come check them out?"
I assured him I was all stocked up on books :)

Laundry finally done, I set about finding something interesting to do in Memphis. At that point I was still planning to go to Graceland the next day. I found some information about the National Civil Rights Museum and it sounded interesting so I went to check it out. It was a fascinating experience that I highly recommend for anyone who is going to be anywhere near Memphis. Get the audio tour and definitely watch the movie they show in the theater every hour about the assassination of MLK. It was just incredible how much black people had to fight for all of the freedoms that I have always taken for granted. I mean, sure, I knew a little bit about the civil rights struggles from school but the way the museum presented the history of the movement just made such an indelible impression on me. At the end of the museum's progression there's a balcony where you can look out over the entire exhibit and see each of the individual struggles as part of this enormous whole...it was just incredible to see it all laid out like that.

After the civil rights museum I headed over to Beale Street to check it out. Even in the middle of the day there was a live blues band playing in a courtyard on Beale. Very festive. None of the bars were really open but I did happen upon a bbq joint called Pig on Beale that looked like it was doing some business, so I went inside. Oh my god that was some incredible barbecue! I got a half rack of ribs, barbecue beans and potato salad. Sweet tea to drink (of course). When they brought my plate out I knew I was in for a treat because of how simple the plating was. Nothing fancy, just good-ass barbecue. They had peanut butter pie on the dessert menu and I just couldn't resist that. It was all fantastic. So so so good.

I was a little worn out from my time at the museum (it took me a good two hours to see everything in there) so I headed back to the hostel to relax for a while. Later that evening I headed out in search of dinner and ended up at Lou's, a pizza joint in walking distance to the hostel. I had an incredible piece of pepperoni pizza and a not-so-great caesar salad, plus a giant bottle of Fat Tire beer. I was the only one in the place but luckily I had brought Northanger Abbey again. I finished the book and my dinner and walked back to the hostel with a nice buzz on.

The next morning, after much internal debate, I decided to skip Graceland. I was tempted to just lie in my bed all day and do absolutely nothing but I decided instead to take advantage of the hostel kitchen and bake something. I had been on Joy the Baker's site the day before and had seen a recipe for chocolate cookies that looked just heavenly, so I went back to the Kroger and bought the ingredients I'd need, then commandeered the hostel kitchen so I could bake my cookies. At first it felt highly awkward to be baking in someone else's kitchen, especially because people were constantly walking through and looking at me a little funny. Eventually I finished all of the cookie batches and piled them high on two plates and set them on the counter. They turned out pretty well, I think. The other hostelees seemed to enjoy them and I got a few kudos, though I still felt awkward about calling attention to myself. The rest of the day was nice and relaxing. I watched Sense and Sensibility which was much more fun after having read the book because I could tell where they had rearranged the plot or plain left out characters or any number of other horrible things filmmakers do to books. It had been a good day, if a little uneventful.

The next day I packed up my things, left the hostel after doing my final chore (they give you a new chore each day. Mine was always sweeping something...not bad at all), and headed for Atlanta with much trepidation.