Memphis was fun, educational and a great reminder of why I don’t go out partying anymore. The movie opening was fine, the theater manager was gracious and the audience had good questions, one of them brand new. A fellow who admitted he was living in Memphis and had grown up in Arkansas was so befuddled by the Ozarks dialect in the movie that he asked if we had considered subtitles. Uh, well, we weren’t really fixing to do that, but…

After the movie, we went down to Beale Street to find some food. The quiet upstairs above B.B. King’s was recommended, and surpassed our expectations. But Beale Street was a zoo, with people cued up in lines blocks long waiting to be “frisked” before being allowed on the street. I guess they’ve had some back incidents down there with people thinking (with what part of the brain I don’t know) that it’s appropriate to carry weapons into packed crowds of drunks and disorderliness. Best leave that part of the brain at home, too. In spite of that business, the experience was splendid, made even more so by a tour through the phenomenal National Civil Rights Museum. If you haven’t been, put it on your short list. We all need a reminder now and then of how far we have/have not climbed up civilization’s ladder.