Wow … Memphis is for blues every bit as much as Nashville is for C
o
untry and Western and it all fits together how Elvis became famous for the new combo crossover style sound of Blues, Country and Rock-N-roll, after visiting Beale Street you can see how it happened. Beale street is the heart of the whole scene and BB King seems to be the hottest star down here. The whole town has a Blues thing happening, we were there during the day but I bet it would be rocking at night. We ate lunch at the Hard Rock Café because it had the best aircon, we were again cooking. We found the Gibson Guitar factory but I was outnumbered on a tour of the factory. Before we headed out of town we dropped
into the Pink Palace, we were expecting a Biltmore house type showing, boy were we disappointed, it was big grand ole house but the city that took it over really didn’t know what to do with it (the owner who went bankrupt before he ever finished it would be turning in his grave), as a result this grand ole building with some badly thought out extensions had about 4 different exhibitions going on at the same time, Civil War, Astronomy, Miniature Puppet land, Dinosaurs, even a shrunken head from Africa with a recipe on how to do it (Guess I better not piss off Bernise), it’s a kind of liquorish all-sorts / jack of all trades master of none deal, but it at least cooled us down again before we drove onto Chattanooga a 300 mile jaunt down the interstate. All was going well until a wee altercation with the long arm of the law in Alabama… A thunder-storm had knocked out a traffic light in this little hick town…. A cop was parked in the adjacent Gas station with his lights flashing … I thought he was writing out a ticket, but nope he was waiting for little ole unsuspecting me to sail through his unmarked intersection… He came scre
aming down the road so I pulled over waiting for him to zoom by after someone else… nope it’s me he wants… Can I see your license…. Errr it’s a NZ one and there’s a story there… I don’t want to hear stories (his voice going up an octave or 3) where’s your license… Well officer I left it behind in Charlotte after I went Nascar Driving … yeah right, where’s your proof of Insurance … errr I have a copy on my computer but I need to have Internet Access to show you… you do know your license plate has expired sir… errr yes but the tags are done, they unfortunately are back in Georgia, I left
without taking them… About now this Cop was ready to blow a fuse, he ordered us to turn around and head back to his wee town. As you can imagine I’m thinking this is gonna get ugly and we might be here for a couple of days at this rate. After parking up in his little rest area, I approached him with all my documents to back up the storys told, lucky for me he’s cooled down a bit and I think he has come to the conclusion that I am going to create him more headaches and paper work than I'm worth. So after a lecture he sends me on my way. I’m sure we were both happy to be out of his jurisdiction.
o
untry and Western and it all fits together how Elvis became famous for the new combo crossover style sound of Blues, Country and Rock-N-roll, after visiting Beale Street you can see how it happened. Beale street is the heart of the whole scene and BB King seems to be the hottest star down here. The whole town has a Blues thing happening, we were there during the day but I bet it would be rocking at night. We ate lunch at the Hard Rock Café because it had the best aircon, we were again cooking. We found the Gibson Guitar factory but I was outnumbered on a tour of the factory. Before we headed out of town we dropped 
into the Pink Palace, we were expecting a Biltmore house type showing, boy were we disappointed, it was big grand ole house but the city that took it over really didn’t know what to do with it (the owner who went bankrupt before he ever finished it would be turning in his grave), as a result this grand ole building with some badly thought out extensions had about 4 different exhibitions going on at the same time, Civil War, Astronomy, Miniature Puppet land, Dinosaurs, even a shrunken head from Africa with a recipe on how to do it (Guess I better not piss off Bernise), it’s a kind of liquorish all-sorts / jack of all trades master of none deal, but it at least cooled us down again before we drove onto Chattanooga a 300 mile jaunt down the interstate. All was going well until a wee altercation with the long arm of the law in Alabama… A thunder-storm had knocked out a traffic light in this little hick town…. A cop was parked in the adjacent Gas station with his lights flashing … I thought he was writing out a ticket, but nope he was waiting for little ole unsuspecting me to sail through his unmarked intersection… He came scre
aming down the road so I pulled over waiting for him to zoom by after someone else… nope it’s me he wants… Can I see your license…. Errr it’s a NZ one and there’s a story there… I don’t want to hear stories (his voice going up an octave or 3) where’s your license… Well officer I left it behind in Charlotte after I went Nascar Driving … yeah right, where’s your proof of Insurance … errr I have a copy on my computer but I need to have Internet Access to show you… you do know your license plate has expired sir… errr yes but the tags are done, they unfortunately are back in Georgia, I left 
without taking them… About now this Cop was ready to blow a fuse, he ordered us to turn around and head back to his wee town. As you can imagine I’m thinking this is gonna get ugly and we might be here for a couple of days at this rate. After parking up in his little rest area, I approached him with all my documents to back up the storys told, lucky for me he’s cooled down a bit and I think he has come to the conclusion that I am going to create him more headaches and paper work than I'm worth. So after a lecture he sends me on my way. I’m sure we were both happy to be out of his jurisdiction.
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