So, not a lot of posting for a couple days. I don’t have much to tell about Wednesday, and I was exhasted by the end of the day on Thursday. And the weather has been so dreary that I’ve taken almost no photos. I did, however, take a short video of this very cool ditty at the end our our street.
4B922746-F46A-491D-A2A9-6FA2B47C0587
Wednesday, we had breakfast at a genuine greasy spoon (as in, there’so no way my mother would set foot in this place)—the Hermitage Cafe in Nashville. The pancakes were good (not German Village Coffee Shop good, but maybe the old cafe’s in Woolworth’s), and I think the staff were being funny, but I’m often not able to tell. (If you haven’t heard it already, ask me some time to tell you the story of the toy store and the box cutter.) The rest of the day was, basically, driving to Memphis and walking around the downtown and Beale Street districts.
We did find a really good barbecue place for dinner. I was not expecting to eat much—I’ve been overeating this whole trip—but Mark wanted to get something before we headed downtown, so we stopped at Central Barbecue. I only ordered a plate of barbecued-chicken nachos because I while I don’t dislike barbecue, it’s not a food I seek out. However, this was so good that I ate the whole portion even though I was stuffed. It’s very hole-in-the wall, so I wouldn’t expect a lot of ambiance, but I would definitely recommend it.
Beale Street is pretty much what I expected. Loud, rowdy, and punctuated with T-shirt shops offering lots of bawdy humor. On Wednesday night, Beale Street was hosting some kind of motorcycle cruise-in. Hundreds of bikes lined the two or three blocks that comprise the main district. I wish my brother and his wife had come Wednesday instead of Thursday. He’s a Harley guy and would really have enjoyed it. After a bit of exploring; we just went home and went to bed.
Thursday, we planned to go to the National Civil Rights Museum. We had breakfast at Bluff City Coffee & Bakery in the Cooper-Young neighborhood near us. There pastries were so good that we went back on Friday morning for quick nosh before heading to Graceland. (That will be in the next blog entry.)
The National Civil Rights Museum is excellent, but overwhelming. After about 3 hours, I couldn’t absorb any more. We never made it over to the part of the museum housed in the boarding house from which MLK was shot, and I have to admit that I hurried through a couple exhibits. The tour ended in room 306 of the Lorraine Motel, which is the room was staying in and standing outside of when he was killed. To say it was moving Is an understatement. (It was also maybe a little creepy, but that’s kinda the point.) For an average white boy from northeast Ohio, I knew a reasonable amount about the Civil Rights Moment, I learned a lot that I didn’t know on Thursday. If I ever get back to Memphis, I’d like to go again to see the things I missed or breezed through.
I did take a couple photos, despite the dreary day.
