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East Coast | Southern Route (Page 3 of 4) | West Coast | Northern Route

Memphis, Tennessee: Walkin’ With our Feet Ten Feet off of Beale

Two-hours into our Memphis memories, we finally realized what the heck Marc Cohn’s feet have been walking off of all this time. Our bout with Southern hospitality was graciously extended by our friend Eric Drabuiak, who introduced us to the famous Memphis dry rub (a spicy, sauceless sparerib, for our Northernmost friends), at a hidden gem of a restaurant called Rendezvous, just around the corner & down a dark alley off of Beale Street — full of red checkered tablecloths, still-white napkins, and a colorful clientele.

We ordered our ribs sumthin’ like this:

Waiter (holding his pen & paper, impatiently): "Ya’ll ready to order?"

Will (looking at his menu, leisurely): "Do you recommend the full plate of ribs, or the half plate of ribs?"

Waiter (rubbing his chin, pensively): "That depends…"

Will (looking up from his menu, curiosly): "On what?"

Waiter (folding his arms, defiantly): "On whether you a REAL man, or whether you a HALF a man."

Dana (folding her menu, hurriedly): "He’ll have the full plate of ribs."

Our Lycos friends will be shocked and amazed to know that more Memphis real-estate than Lycos real-estate was taken up by the release of the Elvis #1s CD. We’ve heard of the countless tears that have been shed upon entering Graceland. During one of many Elvis meetings at Lycos, a co-worker of Dana’s described once-such event like this: "I walked into Graceland behind a little 10-year-old boy and his mother. When we got inside, the boy turned to his mother, with tears streaming down his chubby little cheeks, and exclaimed (insert southern drawl): "Mamaaaaah… it’s bettaaaahh than I evaaaahhh dreamed!"

What we weren’t prepared for were the tears that would be shed at the Peabody Hotel: We spent the first half of the day we’d devoted to being groupies at Graceland goggling the gaggles at the Peabody. Dana literally had tears streaming down her face watching the absurdity of the scene at the Peabody: Crowds of people waited for at least 45 minutes to watch 10 little duckies waddle their way from the roof of the Peabody, down the gilded elevator, across the ceremoniously-laid red carpet, and into the awaiting stone fountain, all the while blinking into hundreds of flashbulbs snapped by the leering papparazzi, cordoned-off by red velvet barriers. If you thought Graceland was wacky, we thought Elvis would be rolling over in his carnation-covered grave at this quacky scene.

We did eventually make it to Graceland. Our most memorable moment from visiting the King: Dana (to Will, overlooking the Jungle Room): "Hey – doesn’t your Dad have that carpet in his living room?"

Avery Island (New Iberia), Louisiana

Hot Sauce, Blazin’ Banjos, and Boiled Crabs! We stopped in for what we thought would be a quick stay at Avery Island in New Iberia, Louisiana — home of the famous McIlhenny Tabasco company, and our friends the Ringles. We’d had the great pleasure of meeting Ken Ringle, Washington Post Style Writer, on the sailing trip we took from Bermuda to Newport with Will’s dad this summer. Ken graciously introduced us to his brother Andy Ringle, who lives on Avery Island (but who definitely does not live alongside life). We ended up extending our stay due to the fine company and the fact that we were having the time of our lives. We both agree that Louisiana has been the best surprise of our trip, and the one place we’re most looking forward to returning to in the future. It’s a place where people have names like Buzz, Beauregard and Eula Mae... (We think the name Beauregard Rousmaniere has a certain ring to it for our first-born son ;-) …where people say things like "Divaaahne" (Northern translation: divine), and "She passed me a pair of eyes" (Northern translation: She’s checkin’ me out.) It’s a place where the first question you may be asked is: "Who’s your mama, are you Catholic, and can you make a roux?" It’s a place where the Southern Hospitality is unrivaled and the food…. we cannot even begin to describe the food. "Divaaaaahne," might do it, if we had the requisite Southern accents. Andy introduced us to the most delicious char-broiled oysters, boiled crabs, crawfish étouffé, "duck in a cup" gumbo soup, and bread pudding we’ve ever tasted. We drizzled sugar cane syrup on our vanilla ice cream at night, and again on our oatmeal in the morning. We drank Bloody Mary’s with plenty of Tabasco, and learned that a virgin Bloody Mary is otherwise known as a "Bloody Shame."

Andy gave us a personally guided tour of the Tabasco plantations/factory, where we learned from our second tour guide, Verna, what it means to be a double-first cousin. (Verna’s mother and her mother’s sister married twin brothers; Verna and her cousin are double-first cousins. Simple, right?) Andy then showed us Avery Island itself, which is a sight to behold. We watched sunset over the marshy Jungle Gardens, from a stone platform that houses a 12th century Buddha. We toured a beautiful bamboo forest, which was a bit battered from the recent hurricane. (When she saw the pictures of the bamboo forest, Dana’s mom said it looked like we were miniature versions of ourselves walking around on the scalp of a huge green-haired giant… sort of like the children’s book "Andrew Lost on the Dog.") We toured a bird estuary, a salt mine, and excavated old shards of Indian pottery. We swam in a swimming hole created years ago when the original Salt Mine collapsed. To quote an Avery Aunt who used to breast-stroke the island waters wearing a broad-rimmed cherry covered hat, "The wataah here is SIMPLY velvet!" Best of all, it was equipped with a rope swing, hung from a huge 30-foot platform. Andy assured us that the alligators in that particular pond were only 4-feet long at the most, so we held on, hollered like Tarzan, and swung right in.

As if that weren’t enough, Andy then showed us how people in Louisiana "pass a good time," when he took us to Le Rendezvous Des Cajuns, a live radio broadcast of Cajun bands. The bands, equipped with fiddles & accordions, played on stage while couples two-stepped their way around the dance-floor below, and others sat in their seats eating popcorn & tapping their feet along to the beat. After watching Will step on Dana’s feet for a whole reel, a local took Dana in his arms and swung her about the floor with good-old fashioned rhythm. We’ve decided it’s the best possible way to spend a Saturday night, and are vowing to take some two-steppin’ lessons for our inevitable return trip to Cajun country. We’re planning to pack big bags for our return, since we’ve been told that people go to Louisiana for the food and the music, and they never leave. We didn’t want to…

Our thanks, again, to Andy and Ken for helping us to pass such a good time on Avery Island!

 

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