Yesterday morning was rough. Stuffed behind the wheel of a Uhaul, next to a park where a statue of Jefferson Davis ("American Patriot") held his hand high in a wave, looking regal, while homeless black people slept on the park benches below. It was everything that's wrong with the South.
There's something really odd about waking up next to a homeless guy, by the way. I was in a truck, of course, under a soft fleece throw given to me by Jenn, but he wasn't more than 50 feet away, so it was weird. Really made me appreciate having a truck to sleep in, even if a hotel was out of my price range.
Today I feel great. The best night sleep I've had in recent memory, even though the Indians just lost and I ate a Frito Pie for dinner. Outside it's raining, big winds blowing the scrubby Texas trees.
Brian covered pretty much everything, I guess, though with a few errors and omissions.
Brian really did go to Memphis to get ribs then soaked his dry ribs -- the house specialty -- in sauce as though they were fast food fries in need of ketchup. It was horrifying.
"What? You know I like sauce."
Beale Street really was cool. Like Bourbon Street but smaller and more laid back. It was far from the only partying area in town though. Memphis had bars everywhere. Also everywhere: homeless people. Asleep on pretty much any flat surface you could find. They didn't seem like the kind of homless people that are there cuz they're crazy but rather the kind that have just had bad luck and a few big mistakes. Again, I was thankful to have a truck full of possessions.
The Hell House was great. First off, it was pretty well done. Second, everyone we met there was beyond nice. Not just nice, but genuine and friendly. Good hearted, if at times a little misguided.
The house sounds a lot crazier than it was. Overall, it was an incredibly pleasant experience all around.... Though, I'm pretty sure Wiccans don't taste the blood of sacrificed humans, abortion doctors don't hold patients down while they scream to be let up and kids aren't taking flavored meth that looks and tastes like rock candy, as a woman behind us in line alleged. I also, however, don't doubt that the people who put this thing on believe those things to be true. Just as you can see in the documentary done on this particular house, these people seem believe everything they're saying (watch for the description of what a date-rape drug does) they're just a little naive about the secular world. Still, like I said, great people, some important messages about how you should treat other people. This particular house seemed more on message than those run by, say, Jerry Falwell, which, like his ministry, are all about the politics.
Also, this house been around 17 years, which is why our tickets were for the 17th annual Hell House. I'm not sure where Brian got 16 from. Also also, Brian's smellyness really was readily apparent where he, I and two other souls were stuffed into a coffin-sized closet at one point. Oof.
Anyway, so far the 'cue hasn't blown me away, which is disappointing. I'm hoping that will change today though, in Lockhart.
1 comment:
a) I TOLD you Memphis is a giant depressing ghetto. but fun.
b) FRITO PIE!!!
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