photograph by BG
You’ve called Memphis home for some time now, but perhaps you need a gentle reminder of why, exactly, people spend a month’s salary crossing oceans to visit Tennessee’s southwest corner. This magazine has been describing all varieties of “staycations” for 42 years now. But never before have you seen a what-to-do description with the hour-by-hour precision you’ll see below. So tighten your shoe laces, and come along:
7 a.m.: Breakfast at the Blue Plate Café — We must be discretionary about the amount of sawmill gravy we allow in our lives. Same goes for waffles, sausage links, and such. But with a big day ahead, this East Memphis institution offers the proper fuel, with menus featuring life wisdom you’ll carry beyond today’s venture.
8-9:30 a.m.: Hyde Lake at Shelby Farms — A big breakfast is rightfully followed by a gentle stroll around the region’s prettiest — and most accessible — body of water east of Ol’ Man River. One lap around the expanded lake will put two miles on your Fitbit, so you’re already ahead of your workday pace. No paddle-boating today. Too much on the itinerary.
10-11 a.m.: Sun Studio — Bless the good folks at Graceland, but a visit to the King’s castle requires a half-day, minimum, to fully absorb Elvis Presley’s influence on the world. For a fraction of the time (and cost), you can walk where a 19-year-old Elvis walked, and even belt out a refrain from “That’s All Right” or “My Happiness” precisely where Sam Phillips first recorded them. Memphis has its share of goose-bump spots, but that “X” on the floor where a legend first made himself heard? Gold.
11:30 a.m.-12:30 p.m.: Greenbelt Park at Harbor Town — Just stare at it. Take a seat on your picnic blanket and stare at the Mississippi River as it eases its way south. (Those pork sandwiches you grabbed at Cozy Corner can wait for half an hour.) Memphis would not be here today were it not for this liquid highway, the metaphorical embodiment of the steady — if sometimes swollen — flow of life itself. It was here, doing its natural thing, long before we arrived, and will happily carry on after we’re gone.
1-2:30 p.m.: National Civil Rights Museum — It’s a heavy tour; there’s no getting around it. Particularly since the museum’s 2014 renovation, the interactive trip alongside those who built, suffered, and maintained the Civil Rights movement will sharpen the senses and shift perspective on the nature of life as not just a Memphian, but as a human being. Room 306 has life to this day. That lump in your throat is healthy.
3-4 p.m.: A. Schwab’s on Beale Street — If Schwab’s doesn’t have it, you don’t need it. If there’s an Elvis Presley eyebrow brush in town, this is where you’ll find it. (I haven’t yet.) But I have found the best throwback soda fountain since George Bailey scooped ice cream and coconut shavings in Bedford Falls. Back away from the MoonPie counter and grab a stool.
4:30-5:30 p.m.: The Peabody — We’re snapping pictures in front of three statues — W.C. Handy, Elvis, and Bobby “Blue” Bland — before strolling over to “the South’s Grand Hotel” at the corner of Union and B.B. King. (Take a shot of the Chisca building, too, where Dewey Phillips first spun an Elvis record.) Ducks are royalty in The Peabody’s lobby and we’ll catch their red-carpet march from the glorious marble fountain they call home during the day to the elevator that returns the feathered rock stars to their rooftop perch for the evening. You’ll never look at a rubber ducky the same way.
6-7 p.m.: The Rendezvous — How hungry are you? A slab of ribs — coated with dry rub — from this subterranean, back-alley institution will make you forget barbecue sauce and remember salvation comes in tasty packages. If you’re still full from our riverside picnic, snack on a cheese plate and introduce yourself to a waiter. You’ll learn something about Memphis you didn’t know before.
7-10 p.m.: AutoZone Park or FedExForum — If it’s baseball season, we’ll catch the most distinctive Memphis sunset — and they are glorious — from the rightfield concourse at the finest ballpark you’ll find below the major leagues. And the Redbirds — reigning champs of the Pacific Coast League — play a good brand of baseball. If it’s basketball season, we’ll catch the Grizzlies or Tigers (you may have heard Penny Hardaway now coaches the latter) and count on a return to Hoop City status in the near future.
10-11:59 p.m.: Beale Street — It’s the happiest three blocks you’ll stroll all year. Find a joint with a local band (my favorites are the Rum Boogie and King’s Palace Café). Venture into Silky O’Sullivan’s for dueling pianos and, depending on your tolerance for such creatures, live goats. It’s well nigh impossible to leave Beale Street without a Memphis smile on your face.
