410 Miles Down The River

It is 410 river miles down the Mississippi River from St. Louis to Memphis, but only 280 road miles.  Traveling by road instead of river, Memorial Day weekend of this year marked the first time I have ever been to Memphis, Tennessee.

This city was named after the city in Egypt, founded 5,000 years ago by the Pharoah Menes; maybe the Egyptian connection explains why I found Memphis to be surreal.

Friday night: walked from the hotel to a nice little bar serving food.  We were eating dinner listening to James Taylor --- until the bartender stopped the music, and shouted: “Zombies!!!”.  Four zombies walked into Bardog, sat down, and perused the menu.  The music was changed to Johnathan Coulton singing about wanting to eat your brains.

Saturday morning: walking the streets of downtown Memphis, I expected to see the typical petunias and marigolds in the municipal planters.  Instead, their street planters were sporting pineapples.

Over to Mud Island on a tram that did not run on top of tracks, it was suspended from the bottom of the tracks.  

Mud Island features a half-mile long in-ground sculpture representing the topography of the Mississippi River, complete with ox-bows.  We followed the river right to the point where it emptied into the “Gulf of Mexico”.  There we saw 10-foot tall swans bobbing in the water.

Saturday midday: walking around a deserted downtown, I wondered where all the people were.  A phone app told us there was a restaurant nearby --- just go down an alley.  The alley was empty, but we did find one door.  It was unlocked, we opened it and walked downstairs.  There we found at least 200 people eating barbeque underground.  No wonder the streets were deserted.

Saturday afternoon: Graceland, a small city devoted to selling you things related to Elvis Presley.  Elvis's house was not as large as I expected; it reminded me that there was a time when celebrities did not live in mega-mansions in celebrity colonies.  Elvis had three televisions in one room --- which put him on par with the President of the United States.

Saturday and Sunday: Beale Street proved interesting, featuring an ATM that appeared to dispense Jell-O shooters:

The company I work for owns a bank.  After returning to St. Louis from the surreal city of Memphis, I bumped into the president of our bank, and told him that I had a money-making idea for the bank.  He perked up and said: “Tell me about it.”  

I described the Memphis ATM that dispenses Jell-O shooters, and suggested that we install these at our bank.  He went along with my joke.  “Great idea, but how will I get the CEO to go for it?”

My answer: Just find out what the CEO’s favorite flavor is…

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com