Just 1100 more miles to go...
Had a thoroughly miserable "night's" sleep at a Comfort Suites in Carlisle, AR. They actually expected us to check out at 11am, after we checked in at 5:30am, and they were getting real cranky and somewhat threatening about it. Which is a pity, because up until the point that I was awakened by an incessant pounding on my door, I really liked the place - great rooms.
Oh well. I escaped around 11:30, and hung around the lobby (so that I wouldn't delay the annoying cleaning people any longer). John & Leslie, being made of sterner stuff, were able to stay holed-up in their room until noon.
First stop, Memphis, TN - about 100 miles east.
As you approach Memphis, the first thing you notice is that
they have a bright silver thing
, which, upon closer inspection 
, turns out to be a pyramid 
. It's a reasonably big (321 ft high),
covered with brushed stainless steel, and is used primarily as a
22,000 seat sports/concert arena. The University of Memphis
Tigers play there, for what it's worth.
Not that we knew any of that at the time - someday we'll be able to do Internet research while in the car...
Anyway, the reason we stopped in Memphis was (of course) to
visit Graceland
. (Here's their official site, for
those who care.)
I apologize ahead of time for the mediocre quality of the following interior shots. They won't let you use a flash, and the fastest film I could get my hands on was 1000, not the 1600 I would've liked.
Here's the front entrance 
. It's about the only tasteful
thing about the place...
Right inside the front door, it starts
gettin' tacky 
. I have no idea whether or not he
really had pictures of himself up while he lived here, or if
that's something that's been done after his death. My guess is
the former.
Elvis's living room 
. Got to love the custom-built (I'm
guessing) 6-person couch. And the
butt-ugly clock 
.
The kitchen 
, other than being carpeted (?) and
having both of those 70's colors: Harvest Gold and Avocado, it really wasn't that bad. Though I could be mistaken.
This shot 
needs some explanation: it's the
stairway down to his basement, which is mirrored on the roof and
both sides. The camera's metering is completely thrown off by the
bright light in the center of the frame, which is why the shot
didn't come out so well. (Well, the real reason is that
I'm a sucky photographer. A good photographer would've
compensated for it.) Here's a another
weird shot , same place, only looking up.
Elvis's TV Room 
. He used to watch three televisions,
because there were only three major channels back then -
unthinkable!
Elvis's Wet Bar 
- in the same room as the TV's
(naturally!), and featuring a lovely Fish-and-Clowns motif.
The Jungle Room 
- complete with waterfall, and the
head of a gazelle.
At this point, the tour of Graceland-proper (the main house)
is complete. As mansions go, it's not very big at all, as this rear-view 
shows.
There are a few other buildings on the estate grounds. For
instance, there's this lovely
office 
that his father Vernon used. It's
attached to this small garage, that's been converted into a firing range 
, complete with used cartridges 
. Looks like Elvis and 'the guys' were
partial to .357 and .22cal.
Another building on the grounds houses much of his
memorabilia, including his gold
records 
and his guns & badges 
. Elvis was apparently an honorary
policeman in dozens of places, which I guess would let
him get out of speeding tickets, or something...
Amateur painters 
- they always put the head right in
the middle of the shot...
A life-sized full-body painting
of the king 
, packing a little something (okay, a big
something) for the ladies.
Somehow, with all his money, he seemingly only had one pinball machine 
. The guy with the camera can't
believe it, having nine.
Mmm... Naugahyde! 
One thing you've got to say for the guy - he had a lot of gold records 
.
But then he went and died 
.
That is was it for the actual estate grounds, but on the other
side of the street (where the tourist parking is) there are a
couple more Elvis-related sites: his car collection, his
airplane, some more memorabilia, etc. It is here that you can see
the toiletries of a King 
.
Then there's the Elvis Presley
Automobile Museum 
. Trivia note: the Caddy shown here
was not one of his cars. It was purchased from a local Memphis
restaurant, where it had been used as a salad bar - as if that
makes any sense.
Here's a sharp purple '56 Caddy
, some
hogs 
, the
pink jeep 
from one of his films, a
completely-tasteless 1973 Stutz
Blackhawk 
, a pink
'55 Caddy 
, and, by far the nicest car in his
collection, a 1968 Rolls Royce
.
After that, it was on to the tour of his "flying
Graceland", the "Lisa
Marie" Convair CV-880 
.Originally a 110-passenger jet, it's
been extensively modified, with a lounge, a meeting room, and a queen-sized bed 
, covered in blue suede.
After scoring the requisite "I've been to Graceland"
t-shirts, we bumbled around Memphis, looking for dinner. In this
case, dinner took the form of authentic Memphis barbecued pork
shoulder. We eventually found Leonard's
Pit Barbecue 
, as listed in Roadfood,
and once again had an excellent meal, even though it took a while 
. (In fact, nearly every meal we ate
on this trip (not counting all the pickled wieners) was
excellent. Why is it so hard to find good food at home? Clearly,
we live in the wrong place.)
Anyway, by this point it's around 8pm and we've just had a big hearty meal. A perfect time to start a 1000-mile drive!
We continue west on I-40 until Knoxville, TN, and then veer off NW on I-81. While this is the shortest path home, it has the unpleasant side effect of maximizing the amount of time we would spend in Virginia. Some 323 miles of that hateful state awaited us. "So what's your problem with Virginia?", you might ask. Several things:
Anyway, the first three points, combined with the large number of state troopers making their presence known, really make driving through Virginia a tense and tedious affair.
At some point (maybe around 2am), John, who had been sleeping, took over command of the vehicle. He drove for a few hours, but around 6am he wanted to stop driving for the evening. By that point, I had rested (somewhat), and opted to keep driving. This, despite the fact that I may have already become one of the living dead - my pulse seemed to have disappeared, but I wasn't noticeably slowed by this fact. I informed John of this latest development, and told him that he might need to 'off' me if I showed any signs of becoming 'zombified'. He took this in stride, surreptitiously performed a quick medical examination, and told me that my pulse was just quick, faint, and irregular. My condition was thereby upgraded to dying, not actually dead. Too much caffeine.
Not that this stopped me from driving or anything. For a while, at least. But by 8am I was also willing to concede defeat, being unwilling to ingest any more caffeine. John didn't want to drive either, so we pulled off at the next exit that promised a motel.
We got to the motel (a Days Inn), and were rebuffed. They claimed to be sold out, John and I are convinced that we were simply too disreputable-looking to be allowed in. (Travel Tip: Screw Days Inn! From now on, when we need a cheap place to sleep, we're staying at Motel 6, a chain that has never given us any trouble whatsoever, and on the whole is cheaper and nicer.)
Annoyed by this (and by Leslie - who, now that it was remotely possible, wanted to get back to Philly early enough to pick up her dog at the vet), Hagan was now determined to get us home, without any further delays.
Around this point, it would've been really handy if Leslie knew how to drive stick - but there's a time and a place to learn, and this wasn't it.
John got us to somewhere near the Virginia state border, I think. We tagged up, and I got us to the Pennsylvania Turnpike. I don't really remember driving on the turnpike, but I must have. At least it was mostly straight, and John was awake enough to notice if the car started to drift off the road...
We pulled over at a Real Live Service Plaza, the kind they don't have out west. Sure, they've got truck stops and such, and they're interesting in their unique, quirky charm. But they're not something you can count on - when you stop at a PA (or NJ) Turnpike Service Plaza, you know what you're getting. It's the same reason why McDonald's is such a success - no one goes there expecting interesting food, they go there because they know that no matter where in the world they are, they can get the same perfectly-acceptable food. No surprises.
John took over from there, and got us to his parents condo, to
pick up Leslie's car. After a quick stuff-transfer 
between the two cars, a "we made it" 
photo, and an "I made it, too" 
photo, The Wedding Road Trip had come
to its Official End, with only temporary
side effects 
.
And they all lived happily ever after. At least so far...
