States Visited: 7
The stretch of driving through Missouri and Arkansas was boring. More farms, more silos, but I had some crazy country music to amuse me. One of the songs proclaimed "I love drunk chicks, because drunk chicks love me."
Soon I reached Memphis and drove straight to Graceland. You get corraled at a visitors center right across the street and take a shuttle to the house. It was weird to see the neighbors homes from the side and back yards. I wonder what they think about all these tourists.
The home itself was a lot smaller than what you might imagine, but it's presence far outweighs its size. I walked through with a perpetual grin because the decoration was so kitch, gaudy, funny. I loved it.
The crowd here is very diverse: rednecks, white trash, future murders and there's even a family of 'little people'. If you were couting mullets and feathered hair, you'd loose count.
The Jungle Room
Going through the home and grounds, with my audio guide, I didn't think of the fat, fried peanut butter and banana sandwich Elvis, but the hot, black leather Elvis.
After the tour, I had my phone interview in the parking lot. The guy who interviewed me was honored that I would take his call from the hallowed grounds of the King and asked me to pay his requests for him. The call went well and so far, everything Stweart said sounded great. It's just the commute into NYC....ugh.
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