Beale Street Ramble
Walking (Minimally) in Memphis
We are 10 weeks into our extended urban adventure and I regret that you have not heard much from me. As seems to be my pattern, I shall be flinging three posts in semi-short order so stay tuned or you might miss something. All of my creative eggs seem to cocoon a bit until they all decide to hatch at once. It is what it is, and here we are, as they say.
Landing in Memphis has been a rough patch in my bodily experience with locomotion difficulties being my chief complaint. Adding to the rub is the flared up exhausted state I was in BEFORE the quick pack and swift leapity-leap to Memphis, making this particular ouchie-owie a lengthy compound issue. A feisty little firecracker who loses patience when the will and the body are at odds, my first impulse is to get crabby and take it personally. I had stuff to do and places to go and people to meet, dang it.
Wanting to get settled in, I whipped past my nagging physical irritations and did much of it anyway, jarring myself into quite the pickle. With extensive bone loss in my feet as a result of rheumatoid and osteoarthritis, I have to consider and adjust to floor surfaces on the daily. I am not a fan of wearing shoes in any situation but know better than to zip around constantly in slippers or stockings instead of sturdy shoes. Our new concrete made-to-look-like-wood flooring in the apartment chewed me up and spat me back out, limping and whining.
After decades of similar moments of frustration, I should be able to whip out my well-worn coping tools and banish my complaints immediately. I gave it my best shot. We searched for more supportive home-type footwear at the Bass Pro Shops at the Pyramid and found nothing. I soaked in Epsom salt baths, did all the stretches, rested, elevated, iced, heated, slathered, and still lost the battle. My tortured feet informed my hamstring and butt muscle on the right hand side to raise the drawbridge and they got stuck in that position. My tail end kept seizing and grabbing and yet, the desire to go see at least a little bit of Memphis was mighty, as was my need to hang out with Dan and get out of the apartment for a bit.
A few weeks ago, I developed a work-around that included not much walking but plenty of sightseeing. We hopped on the trolley and headed to Beale Street, located just three miles from where we (currently) live.
After we landed, we glanced around briefly and then headed for the music and the barbecue. First things first. We were not disappointed. We feasted on smoky, fall-off-the-bone barbecued pork ribs and the BEST hushpuppies I have ever put in my mouth while listening to The Blues Trio at B.B. King’s Blues Club. Next time we go, and there WILL be a next time, I will snap a pic before I cut my ribs with a butter knife and cram one in my pie hole. Boooooyyyy howdy is all I can say about that. The superb bluesy music set the tone and the vittles brought it on home.
Walking off our splendid lunch, we marveled at the nostalgic wares at the A. Schwab Trading Company, a historic general store where the spirits of previous employees lurked behind ancient display cases, gazing back at us with matching wide-eyed wonder. We bought a wee rum cake to split at the Beale Sweets Sugar Shack and some tasty nostalgic favorites to carry home, to soothe my limping inner child.
I really need to see the inside of the Old Daisy Theater, a fine example of what is called nickelodeon architecture from the early cinema era. I bet it is fascinating inside. There is a lot of history there, which you will discover if you follow the link.
A sign painted on the side of a building reminded me to try replacing my orthotic insoles which did make some difference. It's rotten when you can't get around well enough to shop for shoes when your feet hurt. The two pair I bought on the way here are made for outdoor adventures. Eventually I rounded that bend and we found a pair of Sketchers with the marshmallow insoles that made locomotion possible and less painful. I am overjoyed!
We were satisfied with the little slice of Beale Street that we were able to experience that day. We dabbled in Beale Street, enjoying a bite of lunch and getting a feel for this historic location. Someday I want to come back and just sit on the curb a good long while and see if I can channel Elvis.
We thought about how much fun it would be to come down here at night when the joint would be hoppin’, or during the parade. We are blessed to have found the Groove On-Demand public transportation rideshare service. For $1.25 per ride (each additional passenger $0.75) we can get on-demand rides to Downtown, the Medical District, South City, and New Chicago through an app on our phones. They operate from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m. Monday to Sunday. If you come to Memphis, let the Groove On-Demand fleet of newer passenger vans carry you to places where parking is at a premium or non-existent. Parking with a high top van can be challenging no matter where we travel, and Memphis, especially downtown, is no exception.
We did not know about this on the day of our Beale Street visit but have since used the service to go out to lunch at The Cupboard Restaurant one fine Sunday afternoon. Open since 1943, The Cupboard Restaurant serves grandma’s Sunday dinner style meals that are beyond scrumptious and worthy of an entire post, no doubt. Meatloaf, Swiss steak, fried chicken stuffed bell peppers, smothered pork chops, chicken and dumplings, okra and tomatoes, speckled butter beans, greens….and oh, so much more. Being able to walk to the gate of the apartment complex and catch a van in 2-12 minutes, on average, is such a blessing with Dan working and our one vehicle situation. Having someone else do the driving and arriving back home before the pups even shifted spots on the couch was the icing on the cake.
Our visit was the sampler platter, but felt like a small well-rounded meal to us. We will be back to see more, that’s for sure. I spend a great deal of my time pinning places on the map and planning our weekend adventures in the area. We have had a few, so there will be more Memphis tales upcoming!
In between sometimes two-a-day recovery naps, the unpacking has progressed and we have settled in nicely and have even had company, our friend Brent. Life is good here at Camp Cordray. Here is where I will remind you of the “stay tuned” part of my message. Next up, a bit more about daily life at our riverside roost and one more about easing into the Memphis art scene via the local library. In the meantime, thanks again for your patience and willingness to share in our adventures!
Blessings and safe and happy moments to you and yours,
Brenda Cordray
“The Desert Rose”