Tennessee Trip Part 3

Day 4: Graceland Day

Back to the Arcade. This time I got the Eggs Redneck. I'm not sure why the eggs are in the name, the star of the show is definitely the sausage on biscuits with gravy. Oh man, I can feel my blood stopping. Very very good. Very very good going down, but found out a little later, doesn't make a stomach, or at least my stomach, so happy.

On to Graceland. Pretty much in all stages of planning, I assumed I was going to be giving Graceland an entire day. I hadn't been able to fit Stax in the day before, so I thought I'd get to that too if I had time, but I wasn't counting on it. It was kind of hard to tell from the descriptions I'd read to tell how much was involved in a visit, and how much time it would take, but I just assumed I would want to stretch it out.

I think I got there about 10, and as you pull in, first thing you see is the tail of the Lisa Marie, with a giant TCB symbol on it.

I'm in love already. Already a crowd when I arrived. Man, this is a Tuesday, so pretty much all the tourists were blue-hairs coming to relive their youth. They're kind of impatient if you get in their way and aren't moving quick enough for them. That's right, I wasn't moving quick enough for the elderly. I'm trying to soak it in here people! So you buy your ticket (unfortunately, it was about this time I found out what Eggs Redneck does to my digestive system. Went and spent a good 15 minutes indisposed, almost thought I'd miss all the buses) and proceed to get on a shuttle bus that takes you across the street, through the gates, and up to the house. Another audio tour. How was this one going to be? This one was going to be AWESOME. Redeemed the concept for me. Every audio track was of a length that easily fit into the time you needed to check out every room, so you never felt like you were skipping something or missing part of what you paid for. And, oh man, there was so much to take in. Just to be inside those walls. To think, “This is where Elvis took naps and acted lazy. (Although you don't get to go upstairs.) This stuff is what he thought was cool.” And the house just feels like another world compared to any home I've ever been in. Despite being an enormous mansion, a lot of the rooms have low ceilings and very little light in them. And some crazy accents. A room where the floors, walls, and ceilings all share the same carpet.

Sure, why the hell not Elvis?! I can't think of a good reason not to. I think my favorite part was the basement, with the TV room and billiard room.

Then out of the basement into the infamous Jungle Room.

The buildings outside of the mansion have mostly been converted into houses for collections of memorabilia rather than keeping them original to how Elvis would have used them. My favorite of those was what used to be a racquetball court. You walk into the building and it's like a room for entertaining. A piano, a sitting area, very welcoming. Then you walk into the area that used to be the court, which you can imagine is an enormous room, and it's been converted to house a ton of memorabilia.

Some of his jumpsuits, a TON of his records, a bunch of stuff. And, at the time I walked in, “Also Sprach Zarathustra” was playing, just like at the beginning of one of his concerts, so it seemed like even more of a colossal thing to walk into.

Onto the gravesite and the Meditation Garden. I took the obligatory pictures, but to be honest, that part wasn't as intriguing to me as the rest of the house. It was like the guy at Front Street Deli said to me, having lived there for 30 years, “Yeah, you gotta go to Graceland. It's interesting to see the way the man lived.” Yes it is. Much more interesting than staring at a granite slab and pondering bones.

After that the bus takes you back across the street and there's several more exhibits. One that displays stuff from his movies, one that displays his cars, one of the '68 Comeback Special, touring his jets, one of his clothes, maybe a couple others. None of these are really that overwhelming or majestic, I'm pretty sure they're meant to get you into the gift shops that they all end up in. I was happy to go through them though. I definitely get a kick out of seeing clothes that were on his body, checking out a house with wings. His guns. And I didn't mind at all the incredible amount of gift shops you have to walk through. I thought it was fun. There was one thing I was after, the Follow That Dream version of Elvis Country, which lucky for me was in the second to last gift shop I visited. Doing the whole thing, and I think I covered just about every inch of the complex, took me about 6 hours. Time for BBQ.

That day it was Marlowe's, about a mile down Elvis Presley Blvd. from Graceland, and I think this was my favorite BBQ had during the trip. Maybe the euphoria was a by-product of the great day I'd just had, but I think it was the sandwich. The meat was perfectly moist, a beautiful chew, and the sauce amount was just the greatest. I don't care what people say about it being “all about the meat.” I love BBQ sauce. It's so satisfying to my sweet tooth. It's one of the bigger restaurants I went to, but they don't open until 4 in the afternoon, so when I got there, there weren't a whole lot of people there. I was able to leisurely eat and watch some TV, the waitress was really nice and attentive, just had a great experience there.

Once I got out of there, it was too late to go to Stax. Could've figured as much, but that's okay, I have another day to fit it in. I decided to go down to Beale Street and have a look around. Okay, here's my take on Beale Street. Obviously the area is of HUGE historical significance, and there's lots of great stuff down there to see. For me personally, it didn't offer me a whole lot other than just being able to soak in the concept of standing in that area. It's really a night-life place, and I am not a night-life person. Lots of clubs, lots of bars, lots of shops, basically not for me aside from a couple pictures.

And the panhandlers are out of control. Though I will say, I liked dealing with these panhandlers a little bit more. The ones I met in the morning, I guess they were fresh and excited, they accost you and launch into long and drawn-out tales of woe or sidle up and start giving you tons of advice you didn't ask for then expect payment for it. And then they launch into a tirade of insults if you don't give them stacks of twenties, or tell you how you really didn't live up to their expectations of you. The guys at night, I guess they were tired. They just walked up to me and said, “Hey, gimme some change.” “I don't have any.” “Ach.” And that was it. Clean, simple, thank you for making this pleasant.

Day 5: Records

The plan all along for this trip was: Tourist, Tourist, Records. So this day was records day, and I was stoked. I never did put up the post on it that I wanted to, but I saw a documentary a couple months ago called I Need That Record which got me insanely pumped for records, combining that with a new found enthusiasm for 60s-80s country, and I picked up probably between 100 to 200 from thrift stores between July and August. (A new genre interest is always helpful for jacking up the numbers) Well, I knew I was going to want to visit record stores in Memphis, so for about the month before my trip I kept myself out of thrift stores and record stores, kept myself off eBay, off Amazon. So I was a-rarin' to go.

But first, what else? Arcade Restaurant. That day was french toast. Tasty enough, but a little underwhelming. I guess I'm so used to french toast being in the shape of your thick piece of average bread, that when it actually looked like french bread, I was a little baffled. It was good enough. Bacon was awesome though. Crispy crispy.

Out of there, ready for records. But before we hit the records, goddammit, we're getting in the Stax tour! I liked this one quite a bit. Lots of interesting displays. My personal favorite part was walking into the room where the music was played (well, a replica of course, the original building is no more) and then walking towards the exit door, you realize you're walking into a giant hallway where the walls are lined with records.

I didn't get confirmation that it was every record ever made between Stax, Volt, Watt, whoever else, but it was a fucking lot of records. Pretty much my dream house. I just want to live in a hallway like that. Basically awe-inspiring.

On to records. First stop, because it was open earliest, Spin Street Records. A really big big store, but only part record store. It's a used & new store. CDs, DVDs, records, clothes, magazines, and a bunch of useless crap. Sort of like part music store, part movie store, part Spencer's Gifts, but not quite as juvenile. The LP area was decent I'd say. Pretty much everything you would expect to find, with prices just the good side of a almost too high, with some above average stuff peppered throughout. So I really did have to go through it all, and I did. Managed to meet a few goals here. Found an Elvis record I didn't have (From Elvis Presley Boulevard, Memphis, Tennessee. Fantastically appropriate). Got a Stax Record. (A Staples Singers best of) Couldn't leave Memphis without having met those conditions. Got several others, including a smattering out of the 5 for a dollar clearance bin (take notice other stores! That's a good thing.) Overall I'd give it a good rating. Don't know what the turnover is like, but I did see a couple people in there selling collections, so I bet it's decent.

Next was Shangri-La Records. Definitely my favorite of the bunch. This is it:

This is the parking lot:

It's in a commercial area, but it looks like a freaking house. I was expecting bad things from that appearance. I think the area it was in might be near a school, so I was expecting some college douches inside, and thin shelving full of whatever indie whispers they're trying to talk up but not talk up too much. Not. At. All. First of all, the place is PACKED with records, almost all used. There was no way I was going through them all, but I decided I was okay with that. The owner, or guy who was working there, whatever, just stayed out of the way and let me do my thing. So, this is in the first room, which would maybe be the living room of the house. The biggest room. Prices were what you would expect, not very impressive. Lots of good stuff in the soul and rockabilly sections (any store with a rockabilly section is going to get an A+ from me) if you wanted to pay for it. I saw a couple things I might pick up coming back around on a second stroll-through, but nothing that was blowing me away in a desire vs. price comparison. Kind of reminded me of the old Record Mart in Alexandria. I imagined the stock was pretty stagnant, and they were priced according to what somebody imagined a person who was looking for a particular record might pay for it. But, I'm a hunter, so they weren't really my kind of prices. Still, I was expecting an Orpheus-style shit head experience from this place, so I was pleasantly surprised. So then I went in the back room, which would maybe be a bedroom size room, in the middle of which was the all-mighty low-cost bin. My one and only true love, and I found some good stuff in there. Curtis Mayfield's first solo album, which got me SO pumped! Otis Redding Live at the Whiskey A Go Go. Al Green Can't Get Next To You (meeting another one of my conditions, leaving with a Hi Record). Several others, including Led Zeppelin II, the one Led Zeppelin record I had never picked up. I was so stoked I went back through and picked up several others from the average price area, including a couple Willie Nelson I've wanted for some time, and a couple Aretha's. Best experience at a record store I had on the trip, extremely happy about my purchases. I don't know how long they've been around or how long they will be around, but I hope they keep it up.

Next was Goner Records. Frankly, I had good expectations for this place. Read a lot of good reviews. But this was the shit-head experience I thought I was going to get at Shangri-La. There's a difference between letting the customer leisurely browse and do their own thing and almost seeming resentful that the customer is there. Did not feel welcome there at all. Almost felt like I was walking in on the employees business meeting for some bullshit venture they were excited about, like I was intruding. But whatever, I'd still look. Nothing I saw there totally blew me away. The prices were definitely nothing to write home about. And they commit what I would consider an unforgivable sin. The budget records are stacked vertically, between 4 and 5 foot tall stacks, rather than placed horizontally so they can be flipped through. Now, not even taking into account that that is HORRIBLE for the shape of the records, putting way too much pressure on them, it makes it absolutely impossible to browse them. Maybe if you made sure the spines were facing outwards you could at least get some idea of what was in there, but they didn't bother. I wasn't going to bother giving them enough of my time to break down these stacks into manageable sections and going through them, even though I would bet many many hundreds of dollars that there was some stuff in there I would have walked out with. I ended up buying a Little Milton and Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown record and getting the hell out of there. Good riddance. (I later found out that Rolling Stone put Goner on their Top 25 Record Stores in the country. Fucking figures.)

BBQ Time! None of these record stores were in close proximity to the others, so today was a driving day. So I figured I might as well go to the BBQ place I wanted to hit that was way out of the way, Leonard's. An old place with a really good reputation. My experience there was mild. Service was incredible, probably because I was very literally the only customer there. This was about 3pm, so the lunch crowd was out, and apparently they start a buffet at 4:30, so there was no one around for that. Kind of awkward. It's a fairly big place, big enough to fit an old car in and have plenty of room for diners, and I was the only person in there eating. Sandwich was pretty good, though I'd say a little dryer than Marlowe's. Awesome honey apples. The fries, I probably would've enjoyed them more, but I didn't feel like waiting for them to cool down, and they burned the hell out of my mouth. It's hard to complain about hot fries though.

Headed back downtown and thought I'd give Beale Street another quick go. Still just not that much for me there, but I did go to A. Schwab's this time. Oldest store on Beale Street, and man it felt like it. Felt a world removed from the rest of it. It's this weird combination of a souvenir store, a thrift store, odds and ends, and the most useless crap you never knew you wanted. It's pretty hilarious just walking through it. You want to buy one of everything, knowing you need none of it. Really enjoyed just browsing it. Such a fine line between the things I want to own and the things that could not possibly matter to my existence. Actually they seem to be all the same things.

Back to the hotel, because this is my last night, and I haven't made any plans for where I'll be staying the next couple days. Found a pretty good deal in Gaitlinburg, right near the entrance to Smoky Mountain Park. Feeling ready to move on, even though I know there's a lot of stuff I still haven't done. At least a few BBQ places I didn't get to, didn't get to Alcenia's, didn't have a peanut butter and banana sandwich (kind of voluntarily. The Arcade makes the most famous one, I could've had it any time I was there, just really wasn't sure I could handle it.), didn't get to the Zoo, didn't walk the waterfront park, didn't ride the trolley, didn't do the Gibson plant tour, etc. Plenty to check out if I ever decide to go back, but I hit all the really major stops I wanted to. Definitely feeling satisfied and ready to move on.