We thought about staying right outside Memphis the first night and then driving into the city on Tuesday morning, but the nice visitor center (the place you visit before you buy a smart phone) got us a great deal on a hotel right downtown, so we got to stay right on the river.
The bridge over the Mississippi River.
Monday night we wandered down to Beale Street. Heard some great music at Mr. Handy's and ate some great Seafood O'gratin at the Blues City Cafe.
Tuesday we got up, got an un-awesome lunch at Checkers (the only place near Graceland) and then went to Graceland, Elvis's home. We toured the planes that he had- fancy shag fancy. He once took a impromptu flight just so Lisa Marie could see what snow was & then flew right back after a few snow balls had been thrown.
He loved cars almost as much as planes.
Then we went inside the house. It's beautiful, not ginonormous by today's standards, but looked like such a fun place to hang out and very peaceful outside. The white couch is the longest couch I've ever seen.
They won't let you go upstairs...something about how private Elvis was when he was alive and that in honor of his privacy concerns, they still don't offer tours of the upstairs.....(or like the Biltmore, they just want to keep some rooms to open to the public until later, so we have to go back!)
The room where Elvis's parents stayed. He always wanted to give them a nice place after they had struggled so much when he was a kid.
Dining
The jungle room
The tv room in the basement, with 4 tvs....as many as the president at the time had.
Where Pat would be if he was hanging out with Elvis
More jungle
The office that Elvis's father, Vernon Presley, had behind the home.
Elvis won some awards.
and then.....when we got done viewing Graceland, the car wouldn't start. The good news is that this happened in the parking lot of Graceland and not that sketchy Checkers where we ate lunch. The bad news is that we aren't (yet) members of AAA. Long story short, we got two people to try to jump it to no avail. Then we got the guest desk to help us find a tow truck and an auto shop near our hotel. That led to Hans, which he pronounced like Hands, taking us and the Trooper for a ride. During which he told us how he had lived in England for the last decade until they tried to deport him, if I got it straight, because he hadn't paid any taxes back here in the states and owed the govt something like $400,000 (which led me to think that apparently towing pays well...how does "Em's Towing" sound? I'm seeing pink trucks). Hans was less than excited that we were married, not because of any hidden motives towards me, but because he was sorry for Pat that he had entered the union that Hans had tried out four times to no avail. Luckily his latest lady never wants to get married, but she is great at cooking and cleaning. Did I mention that Hans likes to drive fast around corners...with his tow truck? Well, we made it safely to the auto repair shop where they very nicely accepted the car right at 5:00 in order to start working on it the next (Wednesday) morning. So Pat and I picked out some important items out of the car - his guitar, my wedding cowboy boots - and hopped on a trolley back to our hotel.
After all the afternoon excitement, we went back to Beale Street for more blues music and well, that seafood o'gratin was good, so we had some more. There was an old car show on the street too.
somehow I got to sit in this one!
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