Weird Memphis

I don't consider a decorated garbage receptacle weird. It's creative.

There are some weird things I have noticed about Memphis. And when I say “weird,” I do not mean it in a pejorative way. I only mean to say, these are things that have surprised me, more than some other things in this new (to me) city.

A yard sign that reads:

“Obituaries by Tony. 

Starting as low as $95.”

This is a profession that I have never considered, but perhaps I should look into it. I’d especially like the challenge of “making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear” if the need arose.

I don't think this is weird either.
Rather, it is very clever.

Drivers that I call “hockey players” abound. Some drivers, while preparing to move into my lane in front of me, first spend time traveling within my lane right alongside me before finally completing the lane change. Perhaps only 8” away from my car door! It is terrifying! These drivers operate a lot like hockey players that swoop and swerve around and in between other skaters, cutting the corners as they zip past. We’ve had three near sideswipes in as many days.

Hattie B's, get yer hot chicken here

All doors on houses and commercial buildings sport the very same door, no matter whether it’s a shack or a mansion, the very same door. A ubiquitous heavy glass door with iron bars. Whatever company manufactures these doors has made a killing in the Memphis market.

Although we are in a city, there are too few options for someone with a penchant for sewing to purchase supplies. And the one, and only one genuine fabric store is 30 minutes away. Unbelievable!

Found parked next to our car. Not weird.
Just creative advertising.

Alternatively, there are lots and lots of restaurants around us. I googled “restaurants within 20 miles.” I stopped counting at 89 restaurants because there was no end in sight. Barbeque is sold at most of them, but only some of them sell take-out barbeque, which is something that is as commonplace as taking a shower. Maybe more so. (I don’t think you’re allowed to live in Memphis if you don’t like barbeque.)

New boots, to blend in.

All women wear black short boots when they go shopping, and apparently wherever else they go, as well. I finally bought some in an effort to blend in. Maybe this is a nation-wide phenomenon and I just don’t know it because I came here from a sailboat.

Many of the young people here wish they lived in a colder climate. You can tell who they are because they wear down coats and Ugg boots as soon as the temperature drops below 60 degrees.

Eating at Stone Soup, Midtown. My husband
loves a nice bowl of greens. I'm eating the
excellent grits in a bowl.

When entering certain grocery stores, I see people coming out with shopping carts filled with greens: mustard greens, turnip greens, collard greens…huge bundles of them. Are they feeding their entire neighborhoods? Can I live there?

Grits are delicious! Especially when made with bacon and butter. I felt compelled to buy some to make at home. If that’s not weird, I don’t know what is.

Our washer and dryer, conveniently
located on our balcony.

It is not unheard of to have a washer and dryer that lives outside. I can say this with confidence because ours are outside in a little room that is built on our balcony. So, yes, I go outside onto the balcony now to wash clothes. Even in the winter. I sure didn’t see that coming.

You can buy anything and I mean anything on Facebook Marketplace. Who knew? Sellers place the item on their front porch and the buyer drives up, slips the money under the Welcome mat or in the mailbox and takes the item away. The buyer and seller never even see each other. Genius!

I accidentally left my wallet lying on a display of Pepsi cans in a gas station in a neighborhood where I am told not to stop after dark. When I realized where I’d left it and returned to the gas station, my wallet had been turned in to the cashier and there was nothing missing! Gasp!

 

Prince Mongo's "Castle"

And lastly, the following is by far, the very weirdest of all. Without our awareness, we have moved next door to a well-known “castle.” Visitors always want to take a look at it from our west balcony. The “castle is owned by the self-named Prince Mongo. He is known citywide, even nation-wide. He has run in nearly every mayoral race in Memphis since 1991. He has lost each time, quite badly in fact. He has had strong disagreements with his neighbors over his front yard “artwork.” His artwork has included coffins, 50 toilets, mannequins, beach umbrellas and Christmas trees in February. He has stated that his Christmas changes “depending on the moon and the energy lines.” He has drawn attention to himself by howling at the moon from his rooftop, walking an invisible dog and always going barefoot, even in the winter. When he hears that somebody thinks he’s crazy, he states that he is, in fact, “misunderstood.”

Prince Mongo made national news when he appeared in court for violations of dumping trash in an enemy’s yard. The reason he made national news was because of his apparel in the courtroom: green body paint, a green cape, green goggles and he was wielding a rubber chicken. (It is unclear to me whether he was wearing anything under the green cape). When the judge ordered him to wear normal clothing in the courtroom he refused, and was jailed for 10 days and fined $13,875.

 

Built in late 1800's to
resemble a castle

The prince states that he is the 333-year-old Ambassador who came to Earth from the planet Zambodia. Prince Mongo’s mother, Mrs. Hodges (no royal title) would likely disagree and say that she named her son Robert. The prince is a former nightclub owner and owns several pieces of real estate here in Memphis. His other homes are in Virginia Beach and a million-dollar mansion in Fort Lauderdale. His stated plans for the future include starting a Zambodian Planetology Church, which he says, “will be a very interesting church.” (I can’t imagine anyone disagreeing with that prediction).

You can’t make this stuff up.

A Spate of Silly Bedclothes

Two people who had become accustomed to
wearing few clothes. And seeing lots of sun.

I am just now coming off a spate of wearing silly clothes to bed. Not tutus and clown suits, nothing like that, but clothing that most people (I am only guessing here) do not wear to bed. I mention this by way of explaining one of the awkward transitions to terrestrial life.

When we left Annapolis in our rearview mirror, our car was packed with as much of our property from the boat as was possible.  Our galley cookware and dishes would serve us in our new land-based kitchen. And we packed all of the cool weather clothing that we’d been carrying around on the boat for some years. There wasn’t much of it. There had been no need for cool weather clothing on the boat since 2015, and so it was stored very sensibly where it would remain out of our way, within vacuum-sealed bags next to the hull. Well, here’s the rub. In spite of that careful storage, apparently clothing that has not seen the light of day for quite some time takes on an aroma that is somehow more unpleasant than the place in which it has been stored. I don’t understand how that can be, but it is true, nonetheless.

 

My husband, Carl snorkeling at Thunderball Grotto, Exumas

Most people would probably just do some laundry, and get on with things, right? Well, I am not most people.  

We moved into our new 4^th floor apartment more than a week ago.  The owner of this building, eager to fill up all the units, provided an added incentive for us to take this apartment. He offered to throw in a free washer and dryer, something that would ordinarily be an additional charge.  I was thrilled! No more schlepping laundry around to a city laundromat or a marina washer and dryer where the process takes an entire morning or afternoon. Smiling broadly, I told my husband I’d hold out until the new washer and dryer was installed in our apartment before doing laundry again.

That might be Northern Star in background

The first days in our apartment saw the usual mild fall weather in Memphis. The washer and dryer had been ordered and would arrive on the following Monday. Meantime, however, Memphis entered into record-setting cold, as did much of the nation. Temperatures did not rise above freezing for several days running. Being from northern Minnesota, we were not overly impressed with the severity of the cold, but I admit to a few sardonic chuckles over the Memphis Weather News reports.

We were advised daily by the Weatherman’s sidekick to “Moisturize your skin in this dangerously cold weather.”  I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that cautionary advice in Minnesota.  Or maybe I wasn’t paying attention at the time. They also offered counsel from people who were working outdoors about how to dress for the bitter cold.  “Layers and layers and layers,” was encouraged. “And gloves.”

Blowholes and the highest elevation for miles, on
a hike around Warderick Wells

And then came the morning of blowing snow…in Memphis! People were astonished. The Weather Man encouraged driving slowly. “Increase the distance between your car and the one ahead of you.” Good advice. My husband was planning to run an errand that morning, and thoughtfully raised the question of whether he should postpone the trip until the snowplows had been out. I admit that I do appreciate my husband’s brand of sarcasm.

Our bedroom is the coolest room of the apartment with two sets of sliding glass doors. We have with us exactly one set of sheets and one lightweight comforter for our bed. My pajamas from our cruising life are one of those little numbers that adds no warmth whatsoever. I put it on out of habit and quickly decided I was cold. I scrounged around, sniffed all of the cold weather clothing once again, and finally put on the long pants that I had been wearing all day. Then I found the one fleece jacket from my cool weather clothing that fortunately did not smell too badly. And a pair of little shorty socks. It was not my finest hour in apparel.

The top of Boo Boo Hill, Warderick Wells, Exumas, Bahamas 2019

 The next night it was much the same. The same pants, but I added an additional T-shirt under the fleece zippered jacket.  I caught sight of myself in the mirror and thought of the Carol Burnett Show; remember that cartoon character of Carol mopping the floor that came out during the credits after the show. I was a cross between that cartoon washerwoman and your blind Great Aunt Edna, “Bless her Heart,” who cannot tell what clothing goes with what. Monday came, but no washer and dryer. I wasn’t about to give in to carrying everything to the open (cold) basement area where there are community washers and dryers. I’d made it that many days. Surely, it would be installed on Tuesday. It was not. At last on Wednesday afternoon the pair were installed. Life was good.

Me

I washed several loads of laundry, including those few odiferous items of cool weather clothing that we had hauled to Memphis with us.  And I did it without leaving our apartment. It felt luxurious.  That night I was able to wear indoor clothing to bed… no warm pajamas, of course, but a long-sleeved knit shirt and a pair of lightweight workout pants. And socks. Maybe only a little less silly looking but at least I didn’t smell like something that had been lying against the hull for years, just below the waterline.

Ice Cream and Moving Day

Sea Salt Caramel Truffle ice cream.  Yes, I said Sea. Salt. Caramel. Truffle. ice cream!!! That is what I am eating at this very moment, from my very own refrigerator. It is 10:35 PM in Memphis, Tennessee. People who live on land can eat ice cream pretty much whenever they want. It is one of the many luxuries of terrestrial life. (Freezers on sailboats can never get quite cold enough to keep ice cream hard.) I did miss having ice cream in our water-based life.

Our new home

Two days ago, we moved into our new apartment in Midtown Memphis. Midtown is an area that is reviving. It had fallen onto hard times and is now coming back with charm and great restaurants and cultural things like the Memphis Zoo and Overton Park, the Botanical Gardens, Pink Palace, and Elmwood Cemetery (ß where the “dead” come alive to offer theatric performances once every year). We are on the edge of the historic Central Gardens neighborhood. That and many other historic neighborhoods have big old beautiful homes and enormous trees. One of my favorite features of Memphis—the enormous trees! 

Sewing room on L; MBR on R

Trees get a chance to grow bigger here. It’s just the right climate for a longer growing season and the plant life really shows that off. Annuals have been replanted recently. Perennials have a long bloom season. Fall colors are at their peak. Daytime temperatures have been in the 50’s. Tonight it will dip down to 27 F for the first time. We will have to wear our warm outerwear at last. I have seen some of the natives wearing down jackets, prematurely, I might add.

A loft apartment overlooking downtown park has
one window.

I reported earlier that I thought that I might like to live in a loft apartment without walls.  In the last 10 days, we have explored those loft apartments and several other types of apartments in various neighborhoods of Memphis. Although I rather liked the polished concrete floors and high ceilings, I could not go with the loft apartments. 
The only window is the one that covers the entire wall overlooking the street. It felt just plain weird to have no windows in bedrooms and bath, for which there are walls. I just couldn’t do it.

north side of our apartment building, Midtown

In the end, we found a newly renovated ‘50s era apartment building and a 2 bedroom, 1 bath apartment with a large living area/kitchen combined. The big selling point for me was the natural light. Two sets of glass doors face south and one set faces west. Two balconies! The downside? We overlook a busy 4-lane boulevard. My priority is the natural light, and I am told that I will probably become so accustomed to the background traffic noise, that I will not even notice it. That might be true. At least I was willing to bet on it. There is no substitute for natural lighting for sewing. Most folks would have probably used the second bedroom for a bedroom. Not me. It will be a sewing room.

South-facing traffic side. First time ever living
in a big apartment building. 

Although our car was packed to the gills driving to Memphis, there were many essentials that we had to leave behind in Annapolis. Three days ago we went out and bought a pair of pillows, sheets and a wastebasket. Two days ago it was a toaster and a router and TV so that we can get Wi-Fi and stream movies. No cable TV for us. Just the antennae and whatever we can get on the Internet. 

This is almost everything we crammed into
our Honda CRV

Yesterday was a major shopping extravaganza…exciting things like a toilet bowl brush and other bathroom essentials, dish drainer, extension cord, hangars, broom and dustpan, etc. If someone else were paying, it would have been a lot of fun. And today, the piece de resistance…a hamper, a large bowl for popcorn, and enough groceries to cook several meals. Yes, we can eat at home now. Eating out lost its’ appeal a couple weeks back, somewhere between Annapolis and Memphis.

First meal at home. (My hairdresser and I had some
unfortunate miscommunication about what a
"short" cut meant.)

One of my husband’s two sisters and her husband are, conveniently for us, in the process of moving from their family’s home to a new smaller house. Therefore they had furniture to dispose of. We were glad to help them out by having some of it hauled away. A pair of hardy moving guys came by on moving day, undaunted by the pouring rain and moved the furniture for us. The Richards’ family members like to offer furniture ample opportunities for second, third, and even fourth lives of usefulness. The moving guys schlepped it all up the elevator to the fourth floor to our apartment.

"Second-hand hats, second-hat clothes;
All the girls call me Second-Hand Rose."

The old leather couch and ottoman are on their 3nd lives along with the dining table and chairs. The lamps and barstools are on their second lives, and the dresser is somewhere between its’ fourth and sixth life. The wrought iron chairs for the balconies were a wedding gift to Carl’s sister some 30+ years ago! This is all consistent with one of my little known, but common mantras, “Nothing goes to the landfill before its’ time.”

So, here we are. Figuring out land life again in a different state from the one we left when we moved aboard. We have some ideas about what we’ll do with our lives while we’re here. But time will tell. Right now, my most pressing need is to remember which streets will take me back to my apartment building.