Flashback: Memphis, 2003

Since we used Memphis as a place to recharge the batteries instead of doing a lot of sightseeing, I thought it would make sense to re-publish our 2003 account of our time in Memphis. Short version: We highly recommend it.

FRED TAKES AMERICA: DAY 99

• Where We Started: Memphis, Tenn.
• Where We Ended: Oklahoma City, Okla.
• Miles Driven: 650 (27,295 overall).
• New States Covered: Arkansas, Oklahoma.
• Current Tally: 41 states down, 7 to go.

Cool Site of the Day
Memphis. One of the things I have really enjoyed about this trip is the constant changes of course in terms of what we're seeing. From historical sites to national parks to big balls of twine, we have always managed to keep things interesting by not getting into any kind of rut. But there will never be a day where we see two more different places than the gaudy home where one king lived and the somber site where another King died.

We started the day at Graceland, which can only be described as a uniquely American experience. The house itself is so full of garish colors, mirrors and furry things that -- even in the '70s -- it just had to have been considered ugly. You have to park on one side of Elvis Presley Boulevard, and then take a shuttle bus across the street. No one is allowed upstairs to the private quarters, which was disappointing, but after seeing 10-12 rooms, you almost feel lucky not to have seen the bedrooms. One can only imagine...

The front of Graceland. This very tasteful exterior provides no clue as to what you're walking into.

I could not take pictures in all the rooms, since flash photography was not allowed, but here's the living room. Seriously, this is the least whacked-out place in the joint.

The grave sites of Elvis, his parents, his grandmother and his stillborn twin are behind the house. The decorations are provided by fans directly and via mail.

We spent about 75 minutes at Graceland, and as we were leaving, we had the biggest shock of the trip. He IS alive!

Joan and Jim meet Elvis.

After leaving the Graceland compound -- and it really is a compound -- we headed downtown for a quick lunch, and then set off for the National Civil Rights Museum, located at the former site of the Lorraine Motel, where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated on Apr. 4, 1968. The motel was actually open for years after the crime, but became a foreclosed property in 1982. But the efforts of some prominent Memphians saved the site, which eventually was turned into this museum.

As for the museum itself, I have to say: it's amazing. It features a wonderful chronological history of the civil rights movement, focusing mostly on post-WWII events. From a real Montgomery city bus from the Rosa Parks era to era-specific lunch counters to dozens of interactive exhibits, it is clearly a place one could spend a full day. The most affecting experience in the museum is looking into the actual hotel room where MLK spent his final moments. The room has been recreated to look exactly as it did that day. You can also walk across the street to tour the area where the shots came from. Interestingly, the museum has a very detailed display that raises questions about whether James Earl Ray actually committed the crime. While the museum endorses no specific answer, you do leave with some serious questions.

Sadly, there are no photographs allowed inside the museum, so I had to settle for exterior shots, and I even screwed that up, as the pictures of MLK's room and the wreath that has been outside it since 1968 did not come out.

The National Civil Rights Museum. On the right is the edge of the preserved Lorraine Motel.

A wider shot showing the motel. The museum entrance is on the far left. The part of the balcony where MLK was standing when he was shot is right above the old cars are parked.

We finally left Memphis a little short of 5pm, about three hours later than we had hoped, leaving us with a seven-hour drive through Arkansas to Oklahoma City. Determined to stay on schedule, we made it to the hotel at about 1am, after making a quick stop to see the Oklahoma City Memorial at night. Stunning.

The Day's Other "Highlights"

• I got many very interesting responses to my query about the relevance of one Joyce Kilmer yesterday. Many people found it stunning that I was not able to identify the aforementioned Kilmer as the author of the famous poem "Trees." But what I found even more interesting was that many of those same people did not know the most surprising thing I learned about the poet: "she" was a GUY! Born Alfred Joyce Kilmer, he decided -- for reasons I will never understand -- not to use his given name, instead choosing Joyce. Sadly, he died in WW1, at the young age of 32. Here's a site about Kilmer, put together by his great granddaughter. This revelation, though, provided great joy for Joan, since I have been giving her grief for believing Billie Holliday was a man. The good news, now if we ever find ourselves at a seance with with Billie Holliday and Joyce Kilmer, we will not embarrass ourselves.
• Yes, one more rest stop item: I made some light of Isaac Hayes having a stop named after him. I mean, he scores big points for playing Chef on "South Park," but it seemed like he might be a step down from the Al Greens and Patsy Clines of the world. But, as Matthew Greenberg points out, Isaac "was part of the studio band and songwriting stable at Stax Records, a Memphis soul institution in the '60s and early '70s. Before he became a soul star in his own right, Isaac Hayes, along with David Porter most notably, churned out soul classics. Think of every great '60s soul song you can -- Hayes probably wrote at least a third of them."
• OK, we have an admission to make: That's not really Elvis in the picture above. Everyone knows you have to go to Kalamazoo, Mich., to find a real, live Elvis. At Graceland, they simply take your picture against a clear background and then PhotoShop you into the photo. Unfortunately, the woman working the computer was a fill-in, and not all that great.  The great news is she took several pounds off of each of us.  Joan, upon seeing the finished photo exclaimed,  "Hey, thanks! You're making me look like 10 pounds thinner." Whereupon a guy waiting in line says, "Yeah, I noticed that too." Later in the day, Joan is told by the woman at the front desk at the Oklahoma City Westin that she looks tired. On the way up to the room she comments that it's not every day you can be called fat and tired by complete strangers.  She then asked when the trip would be over.
• While I did mention that the Comfort Inn we stayed at in Memphis was in a sketchy part of town, I neglected to mention that, directly next door, was a place called Babes. In case you were not sure, it had the tagline, "The name says it all." Joan wanted me to mention that this also impacted the hotel rating. I agreed, but cleverly managed to avoid weighing in on whether this was a positive or a negative. She still has not asked me why I had no $1 bills in wallet Thursday morning.
• Per my comment about my surprise at the Grand Ole Opry being in a mall outside of town, I did neglect to mention that that is a relatively new location, and that it used to be at the Ryman Theatre, about a block or two from the Broadway strip in Nashville. So it used to be right downtown. I am sure money forced the move, but it does seem wrong for a place with such an amazing tradition to be moved to such an antiseptic place. Oh well.
• Last, but not least... I mocked songwriter Andrew Gold in yesterday's mail because it seemed odd his lyrics were getting the same pub as much more famous acts in the song lyrics displays at the Nashville Loews. Turns out that Mr. Gold is less obscure than I thought. Someone who gets this email actually knows Mr. Gold.  Now, this is not the first time this has happened. Last month, we stayed in the Tyrone Power Room at a Best Western in Lone Pine, Calif., and I wondered aloud why we did not get into a cooler room like the John Wayne Suite. Turns out someone else on this mail is related to Tyrone Power.  I have decided it is either a very small world or I have a very large distro list.

Meal Ratings

• Lunch: Rendezvous Cafe, Memphis, Tenn.: Turns out the place did not officially open until 4pm, but in an experience that typified Memphis, they still let us in, as long as we ate the ribs, since that's all they had made. But, hey, that's why we were there, so we chowed down a ton of ribs -- which are not BBQ'd, but char-broiled -- and they were fabulous. The service was also great, and the ambiance exactly what you would expect from a hole-in-the-wall type place. When I ordered a Diet Pepsi, the waiter brought back an entire pitcher. Clearly, someone must have called to tell them I was coming. Then, he came back to the table and politely noted the irony of my huge-slab-of-ribs-and-a-Diet-Pepsi order. I took the opportunity to explain to him that I actually preferred the taste of Diet Pepsi, and that he need not worry; I am clearly not attempting to convince anyone I am on a diet right now. (3.5 stars).
• Dinner: Feltner's Whataburger, Russellville, Ark.: This was one of three times our feet hit the ground in Arkansas -- the other two were potty breaks -- and it was worth it. Great fries, juicy burgers and very thick shakes made for a enjoying, life-shortening meal for me, while Joan was satisfied but not blown away by her corn dog. (3 stars)

Hotel Rating

• Westin Oklahoma City, Oklahoma City, Okla.: This was the least impressive Westin we have stayed at on this trip, After arriving at 1am, the lack of a minibar was an issue, and the room was kind of small and generic. The woman at the front desk "upgraded" us to a special floor for Starwood Gold members, leaving us to wonder whether 1) we had been conned or 2) there were actually rooms worse than the one we had. (2 stars)

Travel Quote of the Day
"Oklahoma! Oklahoma! Oklahoma!"
       -- Steve Martin, during one of my favorite movies scenes ever, in "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels."

Bonus Fred Photos!

Instead of looking straight ahead, Fred admires the Great Mississippi on the Riverwalk in Memphis. Could be he was pissed off after spending most of the day in the car.

Comments

[Nancy White]

A Joyce Kilmer coda: He died in the Battle of the Argonne Forest and one of surviving comrades noted the irony of there not being a tree left under which to lay his body. (Of course, the web will not give up a citation, but I this years ago in a real book.)