So, I’ve lived in Memphis for right about a month now, and while this is by no means enough time to really have any authority on the city, here are a few things that I’ve observed about the old Bluff City in my first thirty days:
Now, it may be hard to tell from the picture, but these fine gentlemen are sitting on riding lawn mowers, which are strapped to a trailer, which is being pulled down I-240 at approximately 70mph. Don't be fooled by the guy sitting on the front mower, this should be anything but a relaxing situation. In any other city, this has to be some kind of traffic violation and would probably be considered some kind of reckless endangerment or even cruel and unusual punishment. In Memphis, apparently it's nap time.
It is a city full of contradicitions--gritty and grimy, but somehow appealing. Where else can you go to a barbecue restaurant in a parking garage? Or, for that matter, walk down an alley to the most famous barbecue restaurant in the world? Or find people with no home and very little money completely decked out in Elvis gear? There is something kind of charming about all of the city's quirks. People, as much as they might say they hate it, have a deep love for this weird little town. And it's infectious. Which leads us to number two:
2. Memphians Are Crazy (Mostly About Elvis)
If you've never been to the Elvis Vigil, you should go. In fact, I think every self-respecting Memphian should go once--a mandatory pilgrimage to Graceland. In case you haven't been, though, let me try to explain the insanity. Graceland itself sits on a fairly major five-lane road, but the night of the vigil the entire street is closed simply to accommodate the sheer amount of people who want to honor the King on his death anniversary. It's insanity-- a five-lane street closed for at least half a mile and absolutely packed with people. It looks a little something like this:
This is not a great picture, but just to give you an idea of depth, those little lights at the front of the picture? Those are people holding candles. It is literally packed with people from the man in the cowboy hat, all the way to those lights. Now imagine that over a half of a mile.
Not only is the street jam packed with people, but there is a massive line of people that you can't see in this picture moving like a processional of Elvisian Monks. The line starts at the end of the streets and wraps around all the way up to Graceland, where all of these Elvis-worshipers are gathering around his grave. At midnight, they light a huge candle on top of his grave and every one weeps for the Alpha and--Oops, I mean the King of Rock and Roll. Seriously, though this is the closest thing to a cult worship ceremony I've ever been to. All they need is a golden statue of Baal instead of Elvis's grave. If this sounds a little extreme to you, just walk around in the street a while and look at people's homemade Elvis memorial displays. Most include framed pictures of the king (undoubtedly taken off walls in their homes) and some kind of candle display. My personal favorite was this one:
Yes, those are candles spelling out Elvis, and a collage with their favorite Elvis quotes, oh and roses.
Now, even though I've been having a little fun at the expense of these people, let me just say that I respect them. It's hard to love anything as much as these people love Elvis. How many Easter services have you been to that looked like these pictures? Or that lasted all night for that matter? No, I have a pretty profound respect for these people, but still they are kind of hilarious. I mean where else can you see a set of 70 year old twins wearing matching homemade Elvis shirts with Elvis embroidered on the back?
And for you true-blue Memphians, I realize you might protest, saying that most of these people that come for Death Week and the Elvis Vigil are out-of-towners, crazy tourists that don't really belong to the city. Well, before you get too high up on your horse, please consider the next picture, which is about as pure Memphis as it gets.
3. Memphis is Ghetto-Fabulous
There's no preface for this picture, all I can simply tell you is that we saw it cruising around downtown:
Yes, that is an Oldsmobile with rims and a Cinnamon Toast Crunch Logo on it. Where else in the world could you see something like this? Only in Memphis. And the other thing I love about this, is that the driver saw us taking the picture, leaned out the window, smiled, waved and honked as he drove off. I mean honestly, how can you hate that? It's a Cinnamon Toast Crunch car, and that is definitely not Wendell driving it.
By the way, I saw all of these things over the course of one weekend. This is normal Memphian activity: riding on open trailers down the freeway, worshiping Elvis, and owning Cinnamon Toast Crunch cars. Of course, it's not all insanity, as soon as we drove away from the Cinnamon Toast Crunch Car, there was a pack of Kappa Sig Frat boys on their way to Beale, and everyone else on the freeway was driving normally around the men napping on their trailer, but what's incredible is that it's all taken for granted. Guaranteed no one else really thought twice about the men on the trailer, and people here have seen the Elvis vigil happen every year. It's not crazy anymore; it's not even a contradiction--It's just normal.
All of this was kind of the inspiration for this blog, in a way. Hush puppies are the quintessence of Southern food. Hearty, doughy and fried. Yuppies--young urban professionals with their American Apparel outfits and desperately hip vibe are decidedly un-Southern. But if there's any place in the south that the combination makes sense it's Memphis, where everything else makes sense anyways. So, that's what I'm doing here--serving up hearty-dough fried stories of the young, the urban, and the employed.
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