Something About Tennessee
Tonight I am in Memphis. A friend picked me up at the airport and we headed toward my hotel. We drove down Riverside Drive and the Mighty Mississippi was to our left. It is night time and the lights of the city were illuminating the vast expanse and reflecting off the deep mysteries flowing silently … darkly … by.
Dang, I just wrote that without even trying … where did all that come from?
So, we went to the hotel, I checked in. We met up with some more friends and then we went down to the famous Beale Street. It’s quite a sight to behold with all the neon and music. Men were calling us to come into the various clubs or restaurants. One homeless guy asked for money but I seriously didn’t have any change or cash. He was nice about it with a “God bless you.” In Orlando the homeless harass you if you don’t give them anything. Anyway, then we headed to Pat O’Briens and I had a hand in polishing off some fried pickles (don’t tell The Benevolent Trainer) and some crawfish etouffe.
That was some good eatin’.
Then we talked about our meetings tomorrow and work stuff.
Tennessee is where I spent most of my time growing up. I have a little bit of history here in Memphis. Mostly driving through from Dallas to Brentwood (Nashville suburb.) I love Tennessee but also have a lot of not so great memories as well. Even so, I must be mellowing with age. The first thing that comes to mind when I do make it back here (lately) is remembering how my brother and I were amazed by the bridge going over the Mississippi. When we were little boys in my Mama’s car driving to and from Texas you’d see two kids with their faces plastered against the windows saying with Mom “M-I crooked letter crooked letter -I- crooked letter crooked letter -I- humpback humpback -I-!” That was wildly entertaining for us kids.
Overall though, I remember the smell of the woods, the cicadas in the summer, and chasing our dogs (Wolfie, Shasta and Boots) through the creeks. I remember diving off the cliffs at Percy Priest Lake. I was a stupid teenager…but that was so much fun (don’t tell Mom.) I remember Friday night football games and Sunday afternoon Roller skating.
Good times.
Speaking of the dogs, Wolf brought us a real honest to goodness beaver home for dinner one night. He was very proud of the catch and stood there covered in blood just wagging his tail as my Mom nearly fainted. My brother and I thought it was awesome. Wolf brought home a lot of kill for the pack. He had plenty of game to hunt in the woods around our home. Such a good alpha dog.
All three dogs were eventually buried under the huge tree at the end of the property. They were *GREAT* dogs.
Rivers are a big time literary symbol for the passage of time. That’s probably why I got all dramatic describing the Mississippi earlier in the post. Tennessee represents my life’s river. Throughout my meandering travels, the course brings me through here from time to time. When here I always stop for a moment, remember, take a reading of life, a personal inventory and nowadays …
I smile.
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