Blues, Beer and Beale Street

I finally found the blues that made this area of the country famous. On Beale Street you are surrounded with music, from the lone guy who's playing his guitar on the corner, to the band who set up in the open pavillion to the three piece group who's playing in the bar.

I first found a piece of curb and watched this band jam away outside. All the players were black except for this scrawny white guy who made his guitar sing.



Then I walked up and down Beale, stopping in another bar for a beer and the best BBQ ribs that just melted off the bone.

When the sun went down is when the place really got lively. The streets were closed off to traffic so I was able to wander from bar to bar with a beer, getting a taste of each musical style along the way.

The best find of the night was at the Blues City Cafe where this amazing three piece band blew me away. If anyone had sold their soul to the devil at the crossroads, it was these people. The guitarist had fingers like lightning, the stand-up base player had a face like plastic that he contorted into ridiculous expressions and even played that monster base riding it like a mechanical bull.



The Dempseys were true entertainers and had command of the crows with the first strum of the guitar. But the most amazing feet was when the guitarist AND the bass player played a double neck guitar at the same time.



Memphis has it going on here. This is a must visit for anyone who travels out this way. I had such a great time here, I didn't want to leave, but I knew if I didn't then I would have had to get a room downtown and I needed to be back on the road to outrun Hurricane Dennis.



Next stop, Nashville.

Elvis has left the building

Total Miles: 1,536
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.

In the news

Waking up this morning to the news of the London bombings put a damper on my trip today. I was so sad to watch what such stupid people do.

I'm also keeping an eye on the weather, trying to stay between both of the hurricanes. Looks like any thoughts of heading further south to New Orleans and Atlanta are gone and now I'll be trying to follow behind Hurricane Charley through Tennessee, North Carolina and Virginia.

In other news, I have a phone interview this afternoon with an interactive agency in NYC. Wish me luck.

Off to see the King...