New York Minutes, Vol. 9: The Deep (Fried) South

Adrian and I have just returned from our tour of the South, having eaten our way through Nashville, Memphis, Mississippi, and New Orleans, a.k.a. barbecue, deep-fried everything (including, at one upscale restaurant, the dinner rolls), and oysters.

We immersed ourselves in local culture immediately, spending our first night at the Grand Ole Opry for two-plus hours of country music, which is definitely over the FDA's recommended lifetime intake. There were little American flags on each seat when we came in; I thought they might be regular party favors as there was some serious flag-waving throughout the show (such as during Darryl Worley’s “Have You Forgotten?”: “Some say this country’s just out looking for a fight / After 9/11 man I’d have to say that’s right!”).

But during intermission we were told that we were in for a real treat: They were taping the Fox News Channel New Year’s Greetings! That night’s performers lined up facing the camera and wished Fox viewers a very Happy Republican New Year, while we cheered and waved our flags in the background. Keep an eye out for me: I’m the one holding my flag with my middle finger.

Our next stop was Memphis, where I was even more moved by Graceland than I’d been on my first visit in ’93. This was largely due to our studious preparation for the trip, which included a terrific documentary that gave me a much greater appreciation of what a revolutionary - and charming - young rocker Elvis was, and of the gradual evolution from Young Heartthrob Elvis to Sad Vegas Elvis, as opposed to the Before/After dichotomy we usually see.

But the emotional needle movement there was trivial compared to experiencing the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel, which after walking you through some our country’s darkest moments brings you to room 306, within spitting distance of the spot on the balcony where MLK was shot down. A hefty dose of Gus's World Famous Fried Chicken followed by beers and blues on Beale Street brought our spirits back.

We made the pilgrimage to Tupelo to visit Elvis’s birthplace and the diner where he used to eat as a kid. (Waitress to Adrian: “Hun, you wan' shlaw on yer samich?” “I’m terribly sorry?” Repeat.) We then joined up with the Natchez Trace, an old trail with anticlimactic historic sites (“This was once a lively trading post, now all that remains is the name”) but lovely forests and a calming speed limit.

We then spent two nights in the grand plantations of the antebellum south, and wound up with four nights in New Orleans, comparing renditions of the sazerac cocktail, touring the still-Katrina’d parts of the city, and immersing ourselves in jazz and étouffée. A typical day:

11:45am, Acme Oyster House
Bartender: Can I start you off with something to drink?
Me: Just trying to decide whether it’s too early for a beer.
Bartender: You’re in N’awlins, darlin’.
Me: Good point.

And now back home, where I fear being sucked back into a primarily virtual life. I recently launched an online forum for work, the promotion of which was my primary motivator for joining Twitter, but of course my time in the Twit-o-sphere has digressed into the extracurricular (unless Andy Borowitz has taken an interest in business and human rights).

However, in positive online news, last month I had an op-ed published, which was terribly exciting, and have continued to add to my online presence with a few other podcasts and such, all available on my work blog.

To kick off 2010: January work trips for me to Amsterdam, Berlin, and Cambridge, then another trip to Cape Canaveral to see my stepbrother off to the International Space Station right after I turn 38. I suppose after the holidays some could imagine no better birthday present than a relative getting launched into space, but we’ll be there with bells on, wishing him nothing but the best for a successful mission and safe return home.

Much holiday love to you and yours,
cb