Weekend on Beale

We just got back from a long weekend trip to Memphis, so I've been a slacker at visiting the blogs of all our friends. I promise to remedy that situation over the next few days because I'm nosy and can't wait to hear what's been going on in the blogmosphere while we were gone.

For now, here are a few tidbits about our trip.

First of all, a surprise. Once we reached the bootheel area of Missouri, we saw acres and acres and acres of cotton. I always envisioned cotton on a southern plantation somewhere in Georgia (okay, maybe I read Gone With the Wind a tad too many times), but it seems that good ole' Missouri produces quite a bit. At this point in time the plants are so loaded with ready-to-harvest cotton, that the fields looked as though they'd been dappled by an early snow.

If you love the blues, you'll love Beale Street. It reminded me of an enormous street party with more bands than you can count playing music while young Memphis boys performed as many consecutive back flips as possible down the center of the street. Onlookers applauded and the boys dripped with sweat as they passed a tip bucket around for more substantial appreciation of their efforts in the hot Tennessee sun.

As in so many "tourist" areas, there were numerous horse drawn carriages available for hire. The horses all appeared healthy and in good condition. Nearly every carriage sported a canine companion for the driver. This one had two! Biggify the picture to see the tiny chihuahua in the driver's lap.

For the number of people on Beale Street, the crowd was remarkably well behaved. Woe be unto anyone daring otherwise, for the police presence after dark is heavier than what you might see during a big city riot. This provides a certain calming effect on partiers who are given strict guidelines such as:

No one needed to "clear" us as we were back at the hotel long before 3 a.m.  At least, I think we were...

A bit more next time on our most excellent Memphis trip.