Bella taking a snooze on the porch of the house where Elvis was born and lived until he was 13.
Three days in Tupelo, Mississippi, and I hate to leave. Partly, I suppose, because these have been three absolutely perfect summer days. In October.
Yesterday was an errands/chore day and I bought a couple of carabinners in the Tupelo Hardware where Elvis bought his first guitar for $7.50. (I bought my first guitar in Aberdeen at the same store, in the same era Kurt Cobain bought his. Unlike the other guys, it was my last guitar. But I digress….)
Tupelo is pretty darn understated when it comes to Elvis. The Tupelo Hardware Store has a plaque outside that tells you Elvis actually wanted a rifle, but his mother didn’t want him to have one, so they compromised on a guitar. Inside, on one obscure wall, there’s a small bulletin board where Elvis impersonators leave their cards and fans leave a few notes, but that’s about it.
It’s the coolest hardware store I’ve ever been in – built in 1926, the walls are 18 feet or so high, lined with shelves full of building/farming/ranching stuff. Looks like the original flooring. I thought people were looking at me because I was the only woman in the place, but then I realized it might because I was unconsciously humming Love Me Tender. Whoops.
While I was waiting in line to buy carabinners (I’ve discovered you can never have too many carabinners when you’re traveling) the elderly clerk asked his elderly customer:
Been over to the Delta lately?
Yep
Not the same these days, is it?
Nope.
Still got the best food around, though.
Yep.
I was over to the Delta before coming here. More sunny days. Wandered along the Blues Trail listening to Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson and BB King as I drove. Stopped in little towns along the way.
I have to confess, I enjoy called “Ma’am.” Everyone talks the ma’am- and-sir way, except for very old women, who are more likely to call you “Hon.”
At this moment, I’m sitting outside at the Tupelo Starbucks, using the Wi-Fi and getting a back-home fix. After pulling up with my Washington plates, an interested gal wanted to chat.
You’re a long way from home!
Yes, ma’am, I am.
Well, bless your heart!
Thank you, ma’am.
I know I was only marginally polite, because I didn’t pause to talk. I’ve learned that a conversation can start with you’re a long way from home and before long you’re hearing about someone’s middle son who is on the verge of dropping out of high school and we’re worried about him a’course, but what can we do? Normally, I enjoy this very much, but this time Bella was still in the quickly heating car and I couldn’t leave her for more longer than it took to make a tall soy latte, extra hot!
Speaking of worried, oh fretting family members, know that I’m keeping an eye on the weather and staying well clear of Tropical Storm Sandy.
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