Last Plane to Memphis
I'm down South for a few days, starting in Memphis. After touching down at the airport (the concourses smell of BBQ; there's an Elvis superstore), I popped across the border to Mississippi -- the 37th state I've visited in my life -- for dinner at the highly-touted Interstate Barbecue. Sadly, I found that location to be out of business... So far, no good.
After crossing back into Tennessee, I stopped by Graceland. It was closed for the evening, but there were still plenty of tourists (like me) snapping photos of the graffiti-covered outer walls. Then I drove around for a spell (I like the looks of the Redbirds's AutoZone Park) before checking in at the Peabody. It's plenty nice 'n' all, but mostly I'm looking forward to tomorrow morning's duck march. The guy in charge holds the esteemed title of Duckmasterâ„¢.
My pal Jay grew up in Memphis, and he's given me plenty of advance pointers. I walked down nearby Beale Street, which he correctly called "a bunch of bullshit for tourists." However, Jay urged me to stop by Dyer's for their legendarily greasy deep-fried burgers. Damn, that shit was good.
There used to be a Big Foot Lodge in downtown Memphis, but after a 2008 lawsuit by California's Bigfoot Lodge, the woodsy, log cabin-styled restaurant is now called the Kooky Canuck. I stopped in to check for any Bigfoot remnants, to no avail. The hostess told me their old Bigfoot chainsaw sculpture is now kept at the owner's house.
Tomorrow I'll take the Graceland tour, and then cram in as much food and sightseeing as I can before motoring up to St. Looey for the Mariners/Cardinals tilt.
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Labels: Bigfoot, Food, Rock 'n' Roll, Travel
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