We're Going to Graceland

Graceland, Graceland, Memphis, Tennessee...
We drove through most of Tennessee with the excitement of going to Graceland flowing through our veins. Elvis was shaking on the dashboard and we were wishing we brought the Paul Simon CD with us. It was slightly off route, but it wasn't too far out of the way and all I really wanted was a picture of me in front of the gates or dashboard Elvis or Humphrey the Gnome with Graceland in the background.

Dashboard Elvis is visably shaken by the uneventful day

Humphrey wonders why we can't all just get along.

We took the exit that Dame Judy told us to take (because you don't want to get on her bad side) and merged onto a four land highway (very Kirkwood Hwy. /Concord Pike-ish) . It was lined with souvenir shops, gas stations, motels (including Heartbreak Hotel), strip malls....not the sort of place you would picture Graceland to be situated. Kurt and I both gave Dame Judy a look when she claimed , "Destination ahead in one mile". What?! This can't be right. We pulled in to the driveway, and were immediately faced with a booth - with a little man inside waiting to collect the parking fee of $6.00. Kurt rounded the turn-out right in front of the booth and headed back out - we weren't about to pay just to park there. He drove around the corner and, insisting that I take charge, we switched places.

There had to be a way to see Graceland. I knew it was super expensive to get in, but we just wanted to see it from the outside. Was that so much to ask? I drove all around the block, trying to catch a glimpse. I couldn't figure out where the house was in the mess of tourist trap buildings. I drove through a ghetto apartment complex that backed up to Graceland, but we still saw nothing. Did Elvis live underground? I didn't see a pool or anything. Just the extemely touristy front gates (?). We were starting to give up on Graceland, but I wanted to at least stop at a souvenir shop so I could buy a post card or something. Traffic was so heavy, though, I couldn't even get across the street. We were both frustrated and All Shook Up with disappointment. We high-tailed it out of there and crossed the Mississippi River into Arkansas. It looked just like Blowklahoma to me. The roads were horribly "paved" and there was nothing but flat fields of mud and cloudy skies. I started yelling that Arkansas was just as bad as Blowklahoma. I even gave Arkansas its own nickname. Sorry Danielle. :(

Next installment: Nightlife in Fort Smith!