Road Trip

Sometimes you decide that you are leaving the next day for a road trip. That happened to us on Thursday when my boyfriend decided we should go to Oxford and Memphis for the weekend as one last hurrah before life changes come about soon. So we did! And fun was had.

We left on Friday morning for Oxford, where we stayed at the too charming to be believed Puddin’ Place. I loved everything about it – the room, the bathroom, the porch – and renamed it Puddin’ Palace in my mind. It was an easily walkable distance from the square and was just lovely.

We had drinks on the balcony of City Grocery that afternoon and strolled around the square, stopping at Square Books, where I bought The Road, and Square Books, Jr., which Melissa would love and where I bought I Am the Messenger by Marcus Zusak, author of my beloved The Book Thief, after having a rousing conversation with the staff about His Dark Materials and all of the books they think I should read -- Octavian Nothing, House of the Scorpion, and Snowflower and the Secret Fan. (If anyone has read I Am the Messenger, can you please e-mail me? I feel like I really need to discuss it with someone as soon as possible.)

That night, we went back to City Grocery for dinner, which was very good except for the rabbit special. I am not really sure what possessed me to order rabbit for the first time in my life other than it was served with saffron risotto, which sounded really good to me at the time. I don’t know if rabbit is supposed to basically be made of fat and be pink and raw, but this rabbit sure was and I don’t believe I’ll ever be eating rabbit again. We shared an excellent salad and soup, though, so all was not horrifying at City Grocery.

The next morning, we had a great breakfast at Puddin’ Place – orange muffins, fruit/yogurt/granola parfait, and a great frittata. Overall, big thumbs up. We walked back to Square Books for a coffee and one last bask in its comfortable and wonderful atmosphere. Then we drove to Rowan Oak, the home of William Faulkner. Which was quiet, peaceful, pretty, in the middle of the woods, and totally cool.

We said what the hell on our way into Memphis and decided to stop at Graceland before going to our hotel. Graceland was the opposite of Rowan Oak. It was just … Graceland. If you’ve been there, you know what I’m talking about. We bought our tickets and milled around for an hour and a half before we could line up for our shuttle across the street. Then we waited in line for a while. Then we went on the tour. Which was all very neat-o but also kind of gross and sweaty. The horses were pretty. My favorite thing was a petition framed on the wall of signature after signature of people asking Elvis to play in Brooklyn. Graceland was exhausting. We did eat a garden burger (me) and a peanut butter and banana sandwich (him) in Rockabilly’s, which was random but fun. We agreed that we put more into Graceland than we got out of it and that we will never go back but that we definitely had to go. (For a much more entertaining account of Graceland, go here.)

We then checked into our somewhat gross and quite plain hotel room at the Sleep Inn, but it was the only one downtown for under $100, so there you go. The afternoon is kind of a blur of hotness. What did we do? Where did we eat? I don’t even know. Oh, yeah. We walked down Beale Street to scope out the scene and I got a giant strawberry snowball, which I spilled all over myself.

At around 5:00, we headed to the lobby of the Peabody to watch the ducks process into the elevator, which was quite cute. For dinner, we headed to Rendezvous, where approximately one million people had come also to dine, but the whole operation of the mob was run very smoothly. We only had to wait about thirty minutes for settling down for dinner, where we ate ribs and barbeque chicken nachos and pretty much went into a barbeque fugue state with dazed eyes and sauce on our faces. Damn, that was some good barbeque.

We went up to the roof of the Peabody to check out the sunset and then we cruised around Beale Street before going to Blues Hall to hear Dr. Feelgood Potts and his band play. They were pretty awesome. We also spent a fair amount of time in A. Schwab’s, the oldest business on Beale Street, a store which seemed to have everything and nothing and which I loved very much.

Soon it was time to collapse and get up the next morning for Sun Studio! We decided to walk there and ended up pretty lost and blind in the scorching sunlight, one desolate block after the next. We stood on a corner debating whether to find a cab (his vote) or walk back to the hotel in defeat before getting mugged (my vote) when suddenly a bright blonde woman named Sally in an SUV with a W sticker on the back stopped to offer us a ride. We hopped in with her and her two beautiful daughters and they drove us right over. It was truly one of those angels on earth moments and reminded me that Bush people are people, too. Thank you, Sally of Memphis! All I can really say about Sun Studio is that it beats Graceland by a mile. (Read the Lesters’ account here.) I really loved this tour and felt way more into the spirit of Elvis and the birth of rock and roll than I did at Graceland, and our guide, Shawnie, did a fabulous job. This is the sort of tour that gives you chills. I recommend it.

And now we are home. And as of yesterday, home = a place we live together. Holy shit! He is starting a new path in life, and we’ll be living in the same city for the first time. I’m excited. I’m glad that we got to hang out with the ghosts of William Faulkner, Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, and so forth before settling into this new existence. I like to think they are singing to us from the great beyond and wishing us luck.