The Move
Continued...

Day Five

It is really hot on I-40. Really, really hot. I thought it would be cooler. Isn't it almost October? October is fall. And fall is cool. And so?

On our way into Memphis we were arguing about the freeway exits. There's a significant level of confusion due to the number of interstates which meet there. And the state border doesn't help any. So I'm driving and Mom says, "Look, [her point here] it's right on the water." "Fine," I say in a huff. Then there's a pause. "What's the water?" I ask. "What water?" mom says. "The water, the water, what's the *water*?" Another pause. Mom looks at the map. "It's the Mississippi." Ah. Right. That water.

Well, we got to Memphis much earlier than we'd planned so we went to Graceland today. But only after first eating lunch at a giant cafeteria-style place in which we were the only white people. The food was salty.

We'd intended on wearing special Graceland outfits. And painting our nails with the special frosted magenta I'd picked up just for the occasion. But it was just as well that we weren't able to change because all of America seems to be wearing jean shorts and ill fitting t-shirts this season. I wore my Route 66 hat. To blend.

So. Graceland. This is what I have to say about Graceland: No croquet.

The glass case with the bejeweled jumpsuits of 70s Elvis bear a well-placed plaque with one of The King's favorite sayings: "Don't criticize what you don't understand, son, you haven't walked in that man's shoes."

Day Six

Got heat stroke before breakfast walking around Beale Street in Memphis (which incidentally is named after the city in Egypt though as usual no one bothers to tell you why -- why?). Tried in vain to find espresso drinks. The south is apparently all about the iced drink. Fled for Nashville after a disappointing brunch.

Some guy built an exact scale replica of the Parthenon in Nashville. Why I ask? Again no answers. Awesome statue of Athena. 4 stories tall all nestled neatly inside. When people design those statues do they design them knowing that they'll never be viewed eye to eye?

Onward. To the Grand Ole Opry Hotel. One of those faux world hotels. Like a pretend biosphere where the imported bio is plaid gift items and strawberry daiquiris. I really have a thing for these places. I think that honestly I'd probably rather go to Orlando than to Paris. I really do like those green filler plants that seem to flourish in hotels.

We drank a totally disgusting manhattan in a bar which turned out to be turning. We had to move because mom gets seasick and apparently rotating bars fall into the naseating category.

Left Tennessee behind with same feeling of absolute relief that accompanied our departure from every previous state save California. Headed straight into the adorable world of the Mamouth Caves National Park Motel which is so unbelievably 1950s cute and clean and orderly and filled with pamphlets in that cheery, aqua script font bespeaking "fun" and "adventure" that you feel you've gone to heaven and I'm not just saying that because last night's motel had a giant hole in the wall into which mom stuffed one of the towels.

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