Cross-Country Trip, Day 9 (continued)
As it happened, the night we arrived, Club 152, a very popular nightclub was raided for drugs and every single police car in the entire city seemed to be parked on and around Beale Street. The closure of the club must have cost the owners thousands and it also really screwed up my night-time shot of Beale Street because of the dark spot on the left.
We wandered into the first place on the corner, B.B. King's club, and enjoyed a couple of beers each, sweet potato fries and celery. They did have some black-eyed pea hummus, which wasn't very good, so we stuck to the fries. Would have loved some vegan barbecue wings. But the real story isn't the food, it's the music. I found the band I want to hire if I ever have a big party in Tennessee or feel like splurging to fly them all somewhere and put them up. The King Beez regaled us with covers of funk, pop and blues. The lead female singer has a stupendous voice and a great stage presence. Their recorded music is disappointing (of course I bought the CD!) compared to their live performance but I'll have the memory of that serendipitous and magical evening forever.
When we walked into the place, an older couple was dancing, and I knew right away that spending the night in Memphis had been a great decision, one of those gifts from the travel gods that happen when you're not looking. I tried to embed the video in the blog but I'm having technical difficulties so until I figure it out, just click this link.
The crowd gave them an appreciative round of applause, and a good while later, another couple took the floor. Unfortunately, by this time, my phone battery as well as the evening light was dying, and I couldn't get a decent video. This couple was in their 20s, and the girl was good but the guy was unbelievable. His body was an instrument, and he played it like a master. His feet glided across the floor, and he moved with grace and confidence. He knew when to stand on his toes and pause at the beat, and when to let his torso move languidly like a snake rising from a charmer's basket. Even the singer was astounded.
And we were lucky enough to have front row seats to this incredible spontaneous performance. It was as though the travel gods had opened up the heavens and showered us with blessings.
I wept with joy when the song finished and the audience erupted in applause. With perfect timing, the singer said, "What do you do for a living?" and we all laughed because it was so obvious that he was a professional, that he practiced for hours and had gotten to know his body, what it could do for him and the effect it had on others. I wept because he knew he was born to dance and he was doing what he was born to do, and the singer too, and how much joy and pleasure they brought to people simply by doing what they loved, by honoring the yearnings of their soul. Yes, reading, writing and math are very important, but the arts are equally so, and all of us should be exposed to them early and often. Anyone who says otherwise has a cold, dead heart.
Memphis, Tennessee
The Lorraine Motel is a lovely example of mid-century modern architecture. Its clean lines, angled edges, and distinctive 1950s font and color are perfectly preserved.
Even the interior of the rooms are stuck in a time warp with period furnishings.
The reason, of course, is because this is the site of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s assassination on April 4, 1968. The picture above is of the actual motel room he stayed in during that fatal visit. The white wreath on the balcony marks the spot that he fell.
The Lorraine Motel is now part of the National Civil Rights Museum, and I was determined to stop in Memphis on our way to Nashville to see it. Unfortunately, the museum has been closed for renovations this year, but we were still able to walk up the steps to the balcony and see the room from outside. It was a powerful and moving moment, and I plan to come back when the museum has been re-opened with new exhibits.
But only if I have the heart to get past the lone protester at the entrance to the museum.
She's been urging visitors to boycott the museum since ground was broken for the construction of the museum over 25 years ago.
According to her website, Jacqueline Smith is a former employee of the Lorraine Motel and its last tenant. According to the museum's website, she's never set foot inside the museum. According to the New York Times, Smith barricaded herself in her room and had to be forcibly evicted when renovations began. She was living at the Lorraine since 1973 as part of her job as hotel housekeeper.
Ms. Smith's story is intriguing. We asked her whether she thought her protest had had any effect, and she said "Oh yes. The museum gets about 200,000 visitors annually. The Memphis Zoo gets 2 million. So that tells you that attendance is declining. That's why they're doing the refurbishment. They're desperate for visitors." A bus pulled up and tourists filed out.
Marina said, "This is a strange time to bring tourists here. The museum is closed."
Without looking, Ms. Smith identified the name of the bus. "They're not going to the museum."
"So why are they coming then?"
Ms. Smith stared at Marina. "Because that's where Dr. King died."
"I know that. But why wouldn't they come when the museum is open."
"They don't want to see all that. They don't need to. They just want to see where Dr. King died, take their picture, and leave, that's all."
After we took pictures and paid our respects, we took our own leave of the Lorraine and Ms. Smith. The plan was to drive straight to Nashville, where we're staying with friends, but it was almost 6 and we would have ended up at their house at 10 o'clock at night. Somewhat reluctantly, we decided to stay the night in Memphis. We wandered the streets of downtown and stumbled quite by accident upon Beale Street, a sort of blues alley packed with clubs and restaurants playing all kinds of live music. Memphis is known for its barbecue and it happened to be BBQ Fest when we arrived, but unfortunately, we found no tempeh, tofu or vegetables.
As it happened, the night we arrived, Club 152, a very popular nightclub was raided for drugs and every single police car in the entire city seemed to be parked on and around Beale Street. The closure of the club must have cost the owners thousands and it also really screwed up my night-time shot of Beale Street because of the dark spot on the left.
We wandered into the first place on the corner, B.B. King's club, and enjoyed a couple of beers each, sweet potato fries and celery. They did have some black-eyed pea hummus, which wasn't very good, so we stuck to the fries. Would have loved some vegan barbecue wings. But the real story isn't the food, it's the music. I found the band I want to hire if I ever have a big party in Tennessee or feel like splurging to fly them all somewhere and put them up. The King Beez regaled us with covers of funk, pop and blues. The lead female singer has a stupendous voice and a great stage presence. Their recorded music is disappointing (of course I bought the CD!) compared to their live performance but I'll have the memory of that serendipitous and magical evening forever.
When we walked into the place, an older couple was dancing, and I knew right away that spending the night in Memphis had been a great decision, one of those gifts from the travel gods that happen when you're not looking. I tried to embed the video in the blog but I'm having technical difficulties so until I figure it out, just click this link.
And we were lucky enough to have front row seats to this incredible spontaneous performance. It was as though the travel gods had opened up the heavens and showered us with blessings.
I wept with joy when the song finished and the audience erupted in applause. With perfect timing, the singer said, "What do you do for a living?" and we all laughed because it was so obvious that he was a professional, that he practiced for hours and had gotten to know his body, what it could do for him and the effect it had on others. I wept because he knew he was born to dance and he was doing what he was born to do, and the singer too, and how much joy and pleasure they brought to people simply by doing what they loved, by honoring the yearnings of their soul. Yes, reading, writing and math are very important, but the arts are equally so, and all of us should be exposed to them early and often. Anyone who says otherwise has a cold, dead heart.
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