My Vacation

[custer]

Because I worked so hard this fall cheering for men to run fast and catch balls, I deserved a vacation. So on January 6th, me and my 2008 BMW M3 (brag post on my new car coming soon I feel) hit the road.

January 6
My 1st stop is the Fiesta Bowl. Because I'm not a credit card person, I decide that I should keep my speeding to a minimum for this trip. Somehow, I still do the 5 hour drive to Phoenix in 4:30. I'm trying to eat better and exercise more, so I park as far away from the stadium as possible. This backfires when my new shoes give me awful blisters.

Awesomeness

They have built an outdoor mall just North of the stadiums (the Coyotes Arena is also in this complex). Not only is there a band playing and good sausages (I said TRYING to eat better), there's a shoe store! So I dump off my blister causing K Swisses for a shot at something new, Sketchers! There have been no blisters since.

More Awesomeness

They have what they call an "authorized ticket selling area". Its a 12x12 area fenced in with police barriers containing about 87 ticket scalpers. Not only is it hilarious to watch them all leaning over the barriers hawking their wares, but it makes shopping a breeze. You can check out all the tickets and their prices, and then make the best purchase. Great for the buyer, not so great for the seller.

January 7
Drive for 16 hours. Listen to 'Call me Ted', an autobiography of Ted Turner. Book should have been titled 'If I could suck my own knob I'd be perfect'.

January 8
Wake up in Arkansas at 10:00. Feel great. I have just enough time to drive to Knoxville for Tennessee/Gonzaga. When I get in the car, however, its 12:15. Nice clock in that hotel. On the plus side, 10 hours of sleep! I love vacation.
When I call home, I find out that Memphis plays tonight as well. Perfect. I'll be into Memphis in plenty of time to eat ribs before the game.
I cross the Mississippi at 3 PM, 5 hours before the game. I'm starving. So I decide to find the best ribs in Memphis. I'm armed with an Iphone, the restaurant finding application for the Iphone and the car's navigation system. My 1st move is to google famous bbq in memphis. This gives me 2 hits that i can see without crashing, Rendezvous and Willies Famous BBQ. Sweet! Both sound delicious. I enter the address for Rendezvous into my nav system. I'm led into Downtown Memphis, a combination of rundown buildings and urban renewal. This will be the 1st time I get to use my car's handy dandy back-up assistant to parallel park, and let me tell you, I'm pumped. As I begin to back into the space, my right side mirror automatically tilts all the way down, so that I can see the curb! Holy shit! How did it know to do that? I love this car.
So I get out and walk around the corner to Rendezvous. A calender on the front lists 'Special Holiday Hours'. There are 7 or 8 random days with a big red X through them. January 8 is one of those days. Nice business they're running, closing for whole days at random. So its off to Willies.
Willie's is in the ghetto, which I'm soon to find out is a popular location for BBQ restaurants. And its not even there. There's a sign for it, but the connected building does not contain a restaurant. It seems that Willie's wasn't quite famous enough. I've now been to the 2 most famous BBQ restaurants in Memphis, according to Google, and I haven't eaten a rib.
I decide its now time to use the 'information' section of the nav system. As I scroll for BBQ restaurants, I spy Corky's, and off I go. As I leave one 'ethnic' neighborhood and head into another, I think about how my outlook on those less fortunate has changed as I've become more successful. 10 years ago or so, I delivered pizza's in the worst neighborhood in Pittsburgh. Now, I'm kinda scared and would rather not be here. Maybe its my 'Rob Me! I Have Money!' car.
On my way through ghetto #2 I spy a place called Interstate BBQ, although technically, the sign reads 'World Famous Interstate BBQ'. As much as I've seen 'famous' advertised today, I have to wonder if these people understand what the word means. I mean, if your BBQ restaurant is really 'world famous', do you really need to tell anybody? They already know, right? So I go inside and find a seat. Considering that I haven't seen a white person for 8 blocks, it comes as quite a surprise when 80% of the seated customers are crackers, most wearing 'dressy casual' (is there really such a thing?) work attire. The service is good, and the ribs are good but not great. Its now after 5:00, and I'm mostly happy that I finally ate something.
I get back in my car and continue my trek to Corky's. As I make my final turn, a man standing on the side of the road yells something at me or my car. I'm not sure exactly what he said, but my feeling is that he would like me to stop for more conversation. I decide against that. Just then, the car says, "You've reached your destination." But there is no Corky's in site. Hell, I don't even see a building that still possesses its full allotment of windows. I decide to circle the block and look one more time. As I come around the final turn, I see the same man on the side of the road. He yells the exact same words he yelled at me the 1st time. Again, I can't quite make them out, but I can tell by the rhythm that its the same message. I wonder whether his short term memory doesn't work or he thinks this is just a duplicate car going by. I definitely had some serious Ground Hog Day vibes, however. I was convinced that as soon as I got out of the car, a truck would drive by and splash me. And it wasn't even raining. So I decide to give up on this Corky's. I'm very disappointed that me and my technology have found zero restaurants, and my old style of driving around until I saw something good is 1 for 1. I'm also tired of neighborhoods with character. So when I see another Corky's on my Navigation system that's 10 miles away, I figure this has to be in the burbs and I point my car toward the freeway.
I find this Corky's, congratulating the car on its 1st official restaurant success. The Ribs were not as good as Interstate, but my lessened concern of my tires being stolen while I ate them made them slightly more enjoyable.
After the game, I took in Beale St. What a tourist trap this has become. Lots of beggars and franchised bars. BB King's Blues club was the only place I found live music and it was a lousy classic rock cover band. Where were the blues!? They did have ribs, though, and this gave Memphis BBQ chefs one more chance to impress me. Unfortunately, the ribs were unimpressive. In a taste test, I would not have been able to differentiate them from Tony Romas. Boss Hog's in Topeka, KS is still way at the top of my all time rib list.

more tomorrow

[ahearnb]

I'm tired of writing about this, and I don't think its particularly funny, so I'm gonna stop.
Dude, until you said that, this was your best post ever. Coincidentally, it was your first post here.

And we need pics of the car. Thanks.

[WarDekar]

As much as I love to argue with you, tough to argue about an M3...

[ahearnb]

And I thought you'd be used to the 'ethnic' parts of Memphis...it's the highlight of the trip to Tunica. Cmon now...

[custer]

January 18
Not much tonight. I'm exhausted. Went to brunch. It sucked. Zefferino's it was not. Nicest hotel in the city, too. I guess I get spoiled on Vegas. Steeler game was awesome. Polamalu's touchdown was very bittersweet. Lost all our under money. That sucked. But my team is going to the superbowl. And my family and friends who were there were extremely happy. The place was going completely nuts. Which is good, cause I'm going too, and them being there will definitely make it more fun. Cardinals being in the superbowl is cool too. Tickets will be cheaper than if it were the Eagles.
Helluva year. Rays get to world series, Arizona gets to the super bowl, and a black man gets elected president. What would you have said if someone told you that a couple years ago?

My next stops are College Park, MD on Tues, Chapel Hill, NC on Wed, and Washington, DC on Thurs, if anyone wants to grab a drink or join me at the game.

[PerpetualCzech]

My next stops are College Park, MD on Tues, Chapel Hill, NC on Wed, and Washington, DC on Thurs, if anyone wants to grab a drink or join me at the game.

Forgive this foreigner's knowledge of US geography, but this route seems highly inefficient.

[Drizzle]

Forgive this foreigner's knowledge of US geography, but this route seems highly inefficient.

It may seem that way, but I think he has a decent CBB trip that week.

[LVHCM1]

BMW's suck. Lexus son, Lexus...

[custer]

BMW's suck. Lexus son, Lexus...

Manual transmissions are not an option on the ISF.

[custer]

Dude, until you said that, this was your best post ever. Coincidentally, it was your first post here.

And we need pics of the car. Thanks.

Good call. Editing was thanks to you.

Pictures

I don't take pictures. Ever. I used to take pictures when I traveled. But then, instead of enjoying rest and relaxation, vacation turned into unpaid work as a professional photographer, taking pictures that very few were ever going to see. Seriously, I couldn't help myself. Literally hundreds of pictures a day. So I made a rule, and all travel has been much better for it ever since.

There's nothing special about the car. Its a black 2008 m3 coupe. Google for picture.

[custer]

January 19
I slept till 11:00 this morning. I love vacation! Went to Pitt/Syr tonight, but was very disappointed in the crowd. Very lackidasical, except for the students. The best part of the night was clearly the carrot cake at the pre-game buffet offered in the club. Was heavy on the cinnamon, which now appears to be key in great carrot cake, for you chefs out there.
The new arena here, Peterson Events Center, was a real disappointment. Its obviously built to get the most out of luxury suites, and the set-up is great for the students, but the regular fan is left out in the cold. The 2nd and 3rd levels are given over to suites, which is normal in new arena's, but what sets Peterson apart are 4 suites right at court level, behind the benches (you might have seen this on TV). Although it answers my constant question of why people would want to spend more money on a 3rd level suite rather than getting a 1st row seat, it eliminates about 250-300 of the best seats in the house in favor of suite seating for approx 50. Furthermore, in the never ending quest of universities across the country to be more like Duke, the 1st 12 rows or so all the way around the rest of the court (besides the area for the luxury boxes) have been given over to the students. While I feel that the students are a hugely fun part of college basketball, and one of the main reasons I love going to the games, they don't need every good seat to have an impact. To be fair, the Pitt students were the best I've seen (I haven't been to Duke), but I find it hard to believe that would have changed if they had given a section or 2 over to regular fans.
What this meant was that my seat in the 2nd row above the luxury boxes (the 1st row being the closest I could have possible sat to the court) was on par with approx the 12th row in a normal arena.

[custer]

Does anyone know why the indentions to start paragraphs aren't showing up on my posts?

[custer]

January 9th

When I decided to go to the National Championship, I knew this was my price. It was 11:30PM on Wednesday night and I was walking to my car from disappointing Beale St., in Memphis. I had a flight from Nashville, 170 miles away, to Miami that left at 6:15AM. Not a great situation.

I start driving, figuring I'd decide when and where to get my 2-3 hours of sleep later. My 2 choices were to stop and nap in the car, or to get to the airport, check in, and then nap there. Sleeping at the airport seemed preferable, as I'd be able to sleep right up until boarding, instead of getting less sleep in the car and then having to wait a little while at the airport. So after driving for and hour and a half or so, I stopped at a truck stop for a shower and a red bull.

Unable to convince the cashier I was a trucker and should get a free shower (something I had no trouble doing in my broke days; can they see it on my face?), I paid $10 for a dirty shower (I also remembered these being fairly clean), and $3.99 for half a gallon of red bull. Why, when faced with choices for various sizes, do I always choose the biggest one? I can tell myself that I don't have to finish it, and better to have too much than not enough, but I rarely follow through on the idea of not consuming the entire quantity.

So I get back in my car, drink my half gallon of red bull, and immediately pull over for a nap. Man, that stuff works great!

Needless to say, I'm feeling tired and shitty when I get to the airport. Having booked my flight late, I also have a middle seat, which is not where you want to be when you're 6'4'' two-too-much. As I check in on one of the neat little machines, though, I see a question. "Would you like to upgrade to 1st class for $90?" Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes! Hurry, hurry, take my $90 before you realize what you're doing!

I wake up in my Miami hotel room at 2:15PM. 6 hours till game time, so I grab a cab and head to Miami Beach. I've never been to Miami, but I figure I can get a good meal there, see the ocean for 15 mins, and then take another cab to the game. Miami Beach is a potpourri of human kind. Every type of person is there. Except poor people of course. They're in Memphis. Most of the restaurants have 50% off for the less busy afternoon period (wow, must those mark-ups be high!), so when I find a Cuban place not offering me a discount and without a paid beggar standing out front begging me to eat there, I ask for a table. The food is bland, unfortunately. More unfortunately, its not bland the next day. We had a small bet on Oklahoma and a big bet on under, but I felt like I needed a side so I bought an Oklahoma T-shirt and put it on. As an added bonus, this gave me an in to talk to a couple very pretty ladies ('I went to school there but no longer live Las Vegas now'), but that fizzled as these things normally do with me. Why is it that in the movies I'd have gone to the game with them before retiring to the hotel for a menage e trois, but in reality the rest of their group catches up with them, they say goodbye, and I go back to where meeting them gave me nothing more than a few minutes of fantasy? Maybe I watch the wrong kinds of movies.

I see the beach and head to the game. The cab costs $70, and would have undoubtedly cost more if the cabbie had sat in the parking lot that was I-95 instead of taking the side streets. "Worst neighborhood in Miami," he told me as we cruised past the 3 L's of low society, Liquor stores, Litter, and Loitering. When I arrived at the stadium, which is basically thrown down with some parking lots in the middle of the ghetto, I was dismayed to find lots of people looking for tickets and very few people selling them. I finally found a lower level end zone seat for $700, after passing on some upper levels for $1000, and figured I might not find a better seat.

I'm seated in a Florida section. Of course, besides 5 or 6 sections in a corner, they're all Florida sections. Gainesville is only a 5 hour drive from Miami, but I know Oklahoma has an excellent following and travels well, so I'm amazed at the disparity. At least 80% of the crowd was cheering for the Gators. The Florida fans on either side of me are very nice people, and when they find out that my only real connections to Oklahoma are a small bet and a T-shirt I bought 2 hours ago, they tell me they're going to adopt me. Which would have been fine if their seats hadn't sucked. After only really being able to see plays on half of the field for the 1st half, I decide to go searching for greener pastures. We bet some Oklahoma at half time anyways, and I don't mind rooting for them with other like minded folks.

I walk around to the best Oklahoma section, lower level at about the 30 yard line, and go to the top where I can lean against the wall. "Do you mind if I stand here if he (motioning towards the usher) doesn't bother me," I ask the Oklahoma booster in the mid fifties sitting beside me, on the end seat in the row. His expression does not portray welcomeness, so I continue, "I'm sitting next to a drunken Florida fan that won't stop talking to me. I had to try to find somewhere else."

This perks him up. "That's about the only thing you could have said," he says with a smile.

My bliss doesn't last, however. Not minutes after the 2nd half starts, a drunk man with a Florida shirt and a cast on his foot saunters up the steps and begins wedging himself between me and the railing I'm leaning against on my left. "I need to lean against the railing because of my toe," he tells me. "I hurt it in the Keys last week. This is my life story. This is more of my life story. Blah-blah-di-blahblahblahblahblah. Blah blah blah, blah blah blah." That's what he said verbadum. I made up a story about a drunk Gator fan that wouldn't stop talking to me. And one appeared within minutes. More proof that life if often stranger than fiction. He went on to tell me that he had a seat way down in the 8th row (where we were was about the 30th row), and that with his toe it was very hard to keep going up and down. It was all I could do to keep from telling him that there was no requirement that he keep making a circle from seat to beer stand to pisser and back to seat, that he could just sit in his seat and watch the game, and then go drink at a bar afterwards, but I restrained myself. I've really made some strides in the restraint department over the last couple of years.

Overall great atmosphere, great game, shitty stadium. After the game, I went outside to find a taxi back to my hotel, but there weren't any. Just lots of people looking for cabs. It had been a long day of walking, and my legs were dead. A cab came past a group of us, and as a couple of others started talking to the driver through the passenger window, I climbed in the back seat of the mini van. "Wyndam Airport," I said. "I'll make it worth your while." The driver continued negotiating with the guy through the window.

"Miami beach, $140," the driver said straightly in an Island accent. It would have been about a $50 ride. The guy balked, and the driver turned to me. "$140," he said. A $30 fare on a normal night. I thought about getting out. When I said I'd take care of him, I'd meant he should put the meter on and I'd give him a $20 tip. Not a $110 tip. But my legs hurt, it was past midnight, and I hadn't slept the night before. I got him down to $120 and we were off. "Do you like music?" he asked me.

"Doesn't matter," I replied. As soon as the words left my lips I wanted them back. Reggae was playing at a decibel level meant for dogs within seconds. Next we cleared the last stadium light, and were back in the ghetto. The speed limit was probably 35. We were doing 80 in a mini van with no shocks. It was at this point that he started flashing the dome light, disco style, in rhythm with the music. This was too much for me, and I demanded that he stop. He started telling me how much he liked America and white people. I just prayed that we were heading back to my hotel at this break neck speed and not to some back alley. I don't think I'll go back to Miami for a game.

[LVHCM1]

Alright, which one of you jokers gave Dan Gordon Custer's password??

[WarDekar]

Was your cabbie Haitian?

[The Chaperone]

Good call. Editing was thanks to you.

Pictures

I don't take pictures. Ever. I used to take pictures when I traveled. But then, instead of enjoying rest and relaxation, vacation turned into unpaid work as a professional photographer, taking pictures that very few were ever going to see. Seriously, I couldn't help myself. Literally hundreds of pictures a day. So I made a rule, and all travel has been much better for it ever since.

There's nothing special about the car. Its a black 2008 m3 coupe. Google for picture.

I made this same change around 2002. I have enjoyed the travel more, but now with facebook and other such sites, I am regretting not having pictures to share. It seems the paradigm has shifted and now all the pictures I thought no one would see, would in fact be seen. I still can't get out of the no picture habit though. The best was 1999-2002 when I dated a girl who was a semi-professional photographer. Got all the pictures without much of the work.

[The Chaperone]

January 9th

When I decided to go to the National Championship, I knew this was my price. It was 11:30PM on Wednesday night and I was walking to my car from disappointing Beale St., in Memphis. I had a flight from Nashville, 170 miles away, to Miami that left at 6:15AM. Not a great situation.

I start driving, figuring I'd decide when and where to get my 2-3 hours of sleep later. My 2 choices were to stop and nap in the car, and to get to the airport, check in, and then nap there. Sleeping at the airport seemed preferable, as I'd be able to sleep right up until boarding, instead of getting less sleep in the car and then having to wait a little while at the airport. So after driving for and hour and a half or so, I stopped at a truck stop for a shower and a red bull.

Unable to convince the cashier I was a trucker and should get a free shower (something I had no trouble doing in my broke days; can they see it on my face?), I paid $10 for a dirty shower (I also remembered these being fairly clean), and $3.99 for half a gallon of red bull. Why, when faced with choices for various sizes, do I always choose the biggest one? I can tell myself that I don't have to finish it, and better to have too much than not enough, but I rarely follow through on the idea of not consuming the entire quantity.

So I get back in my car, drink my half gallon of red bull, and immediately pull over for a nap. Man, that stuff works great!

Needless to say, I'm feeling tired and shitty when I get to the airport. Having booked my flight late, I also have a middle seat, which is not where you want to be when you're 6'4'' two-too-much. As I check in on one of the need little machines, though, I see a question. "Would you like to upgrade to 1st class for $90?" Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes! Hurry, hurry, take my $90 before you realize what you're doing!

I wake up in my Miami hotel room at 2:15PM. 6 hours till game time, so I grab a cab and head to Miami Beach. I've never been to Miami, but I figure I can get a good meal there, see the ocean for 15 mins, and then take another cab to the game. Miami Beach is a potpourri of human kind. Every type of person is there. Except poor people of course. They're in Memphis. Most of the restaurants have 50% off for the less busy afternoon period (wow, must those mark-ups be high!), so when I find a Cuban place not offering me a discount and without a paid beggar standing out front begging me to eat there, I ask for a table. The food is bland, unfortunately. More unfortunately, its not bland the next day. We had a small bet on Oklahoma and a big bet on under, but I felt like I needed a side so I bought an Oklahoma T-shirt and put it on. As an added bonus, this gave me an in to talk to a couple very pretty ladies ('I went to school there but no longer live Las Vegas now'), but that fizzled as these things normally do with me. Why is it that in the movies I'd have gone to the game with them before retiring to the hotel for a menage e trois, but in reality the rest of their group catches up with them, they say goodbye, and I go back to where meeting them gave me nothing more than a few minutes of fantasy? Maybe I watch the wrong kinds of movies.

I see the beach and head to the game. The cab costs $70, and would have undoubtedly cost more if the cabbie had sat in the parking lot that was I-95 instead of taking the side streets. "Worst neighborhood in Miami," he told me as we cruised past the 3 L's of low society, Liquor stores, Litter, and Loitering. When I arrived at the stadium, which is basically thrown down with some parking lots in the middle of the ghetto, I was dismayed to find lots of people looking for tickets and very few people selling them. I finally found a lower level end zone seat for $700, after passing on some upper levels for $1000, and figured I might not find a better seat.

I'm seated in a Florida section. Although besides 5 or 6 sections in a corner, they're all Florida sections. I mean, Gainesville is an 8 hour drive from Miami, and I know Oklahoma has an excellent following and travels well, so I'm amazed at the disparity. At least 80% of the crowd was cheering for the Gators. The Florida fans on either side of me are very nice people, and when they find out that my only real connection on Oklahoma is a small bet a T-shirt I bought 2 hours ago, they tell me they're going to adopt me. Which would have been fine if their seats hadn't sucked. After only really being able to see plays on half of the field for the 1st half, I decide to go searching for greener pastures. We bet some Oklahoma at half time anyways, and I don't mind rooting for them with other like minded folks.

I walk around to the best Oklahoma section, lower level at about the 30 yard line, and go to the top where I can lean against the wall. "Do you mind if I stand here if he (motioning towards the usher) doesn't bother me," I ask the Oklahoma booster in the mid fifties sitting beside me, on the end seat in the row. His expression does not portray welcomeness, so I continue, "I'm sitting next to a drunken Florida fan that won't stop talking to me. I had to try to find somewhere else."

This perks him up. "That's about the only thing you could have said," he says with a smile.

My bliss doesn't last, however. Not minutes after the 2nd half starts, a drunk man with a Florida shirt and a cast on his foot saunters up the steps and begins wedging himself between me and the railing I'm leaning against on my left. "I need to lean against the railing because of my toe," he tells me. "I hurt it in the Keys last week. This is my life story. This is more of my life story. Blah-blah-di-blahblahblahblahblah. Blah blah blah, blah blah blah." That's what he said verbadum. I made up a story about a drunk Gator fan that wouldn't stop talking to me. And one appeared within minutes. More proof that life if often stranger than fiction. He went on to tell me that he had a seat way down in the 8th row (where we were was about the 30th row), and that with his toe it was very hard to keep going up and down. It was all I could do to keep from telling him that there was no requirement that he keep making a circle from seat to beer stand to pisser and back to seat, that he could just sit in his seat and watch the game, and then go drink at a bar afterwards, but I restrained myself. I've really made some strides in the restraint department over the last couple of years.

Overall great atmosphere, great game, shitty stadium. After the game, I went outside to find a taxi back to my hotel, but there weren't any. Just lots of people looking for cabs. It had been a long day of walking, and my legs were dead. A cab came past a group of us, and as a couple of others started talking to the driver through the passenger window, I climbed in the back seat of the mini van. "Wyndam Airport," I said. "I'll make it worth your while." The driver continued negotiating with the guy through the window.

"Miami beach, $140," the driver said straightly in an Island accent. It would have been about a $50 ride. The guy balked, and the driver turned to me. "$140," he said. A $30 fare on a normal night. I thought about getting out. When I said I'd take care of him, I'd meant he should put the meter on and I'd give him a $20 tip. Not a $110 tip. But my legs hurt, it was past midnight, and I hadn't slept the night before. I got him down to $120 and we were off. "Do you like music?" he asked me.

"Doesn't matter," I replied. As soon as the words left my lips I wanted them back. Reggae was playing at a decibel level meant for does within seconds. Next we cleared the last stadium light, and were back in the ghetto. The speed limit was probably 35. We were doing 80 in a mini van with no shocks. And now he started flashing the dome light, disco style, in rhythm with the music. This was too much for me, and I demanded that he stop. He started telling me how much he liked America and white people. I just prayed that we were heading back to my hotel at this break neck speed and not to some back alley. I don't think I'll go back to Miami for a game.

And to think you were afraid no one would look at your pictures...

[WarDekar]

I made this same change around 2002. I have enjoyed the travel more, but now with facebook and other such sites, I am regretting not having pictures to share. It seems the paradigm has shifted and now all the pictures I thought no one would see, would in fact be seen. I still can't get out of the no picture habit though. The best was 1999-2002 when I dated a girl who was a semi-professional photographer. Got all the pictures without much of the work.

It seems all women LOVE to take pictures.

On a related note, I have almost no pictures of myself since college ended... Shit...

[custer]

Was your cabbie Haitian?

yes

[custer]

January 10

No 1st class upgrade this morning, but it was much less necessary after 8 hours sleep. While waiting for the plane, I look up the most expensive hotel in Nashville, and since its only $250, I book a room. When I do so, I ask if they can direct me to a carwash on my way in from the airport, as my black car is practically white from the salt on the roads (at this point I did not realize the futility of trying to keep the car clean while driving 200 miles a day through the northeast in January). To my delight, they inform me that they will arrange to get the car washed while its parked in their garage. Boom! I just got a free 45 minutes of life thrown in for my $250.

After check in I went to the country music museum. So-so. I like country music, but I think you need memories like "I was hanging out with the hip cool cats outside the soda shop when I 1st head that song" to really enjoy the museum. On my walk back to the hotel, I hear live music. When I get there, I realize there's a whole street of bars with live music blaring out of their doors. And this is at 4:30 in the afternoon.

The 1st place I stop in has a mediocre singer covering popular mediocre country songs. But his stage presence is excellent, and he has the biggest crowd on the street singing along with all the songs. Then a middle aged man walks up to the stage, says something in his ear, and hands him money. The next thing I know, an 11 year old girl is on the stage, and an amazing rendition of 'Bobby McGee' is coming out of the speakers. Quite a town, I guess.

I went to the Grand Ole Opry. It was ok. I did like Loretta Lynn. During the show they gave away a free dinner for 2 from one of the sponsors, Cracker Barrel. It was probably a $25 gift certificate worth $15 or so. The tickets to the Opry were $50+. The people that won the prize went nuts like had just won a car.

[The Chaperone]

I always do find it entertaining how people go nuts for the smallest prizes. Actually, outside of a casino it's entertaining. Inside a casino it's just fucking annoying. I mean some chick hits a $5 blackjack and goes nuts. Yeah that pisses me off.

And LMAO at Cracker Barrel.

[Ace]

Because I worked so hard this fall cheering for men to run fast and catch balls, I deserved a vacation. So on January 6th, me and my 2008 BMW M3 (brag post on my new car coming soon I feel) hit the road.

January 6
My 1st stop is the Fiesta Bowl. Because I'm not a credit card person, I decide that I should keep my speeding to a minimum for this trip. Somehow, I still do the 5 hour drive to Phoenix in 4:30. I'm trying to eat better and exercise more, so I park as far away from the stadium as possible. This backfires when my new shoes give me awful blisters.

Awesomeness

They have built an outdoor mall just North of the stadiums (the Coyotes Arena is also in this complex). Not only is there a band playing and good sausages (I said TRYING to eat better), there's a shoe store! So I dump off my blister causing K Swisses for a shot at something new, Sketchers! There have been no blisters since.

More Awesomeness

They have what they call an "authorized ticket selling area". Its a 12x12 area fenced in with police barriers containing about 87 ticket scalpers. Not only is it hilarious to watch them all leaning over the barriers hawking their wares, but it makes shopping a breeze. You can check out all the tickets and their prices, and then make the best purchase. Great for the buyer, not so great for the seller.

January 7
Drive for 16 hours. Listen to 'Call me Ted', an autobiography of Ted Turner. Book should have been titled 'If I could suck my own knob I'd be perfect'.

January 8
Wake up in Arkansas at 10:00. Feel great. I have just enough time to drive to Knoxville for Tennessee/Gonzaga. When I get in the car, however, its 12:15. Nice clock in that hotel. On the plus side, 10 hours of sleep! I love vacation.
When I call home, I find out that Memphis plays tonight as well. Perfect. I'll be into Memphis in plenty of time to eat ribs before the game.
I cross the Mississippi at 3 PM, 5 hours before the game. I'm starving. So I decide to find the best ribs in Memphis. I'm armed with an Iphone, the restaurant finding application for the Iphone and the car's navigation system. My 1st move is to google famous bbq in memphis. This gives me 2 hits that i can see without crashing, Rendezvous and Willies Famous BBQ. Sweet! Both sound delicious. I enter the address for Rendezvous into my nav system. I'm led into Downtown Memphis, a combination of rundown buildings and urban renewal. This will be the 1st time I get to use my car's handy dandy back-up assistant to parallel park, and let me tell you, I'm pumped. As I begin to back into the space, my right side mirror automatically tilts all the way down, so that I can see the curb! Holy shit! How did it know to do that? I love this car.
So I get out and walk around the corner to Rendezvous. A calender on the front lists 'Special Holiday Hours'. There are 7 or 8 random days with a big red X through them. January 8 is one of those days. Nice business they're running, closing for whole days at random. So its off to Willies.
Willie's is in the ghetto, which I'm soon to find out is a popular location for BBQ restaurants. And its not even there. There's a sign for it, but the connected building does not contain a restaurant. It seems that Willie's wasn't quite famous enough. I've now been to the 2 most famous BBQ restaurants in Memphis, according to Google, and I haven't eaten a rib.
I decide its now time to use the 'information' section of the nav system. As I scroll for BBQ restaurants, I spy Corky's, and off I go. As I leave one 'ethnic' neighborhood and head into another, I think about how my outlook on those less fortunate has changed as I've become more successful. 10 years ago or so, I delivered pizza's in the worst neighborhood in Pittsburgh. Now, I'm kinda scared and would rather not be here. Maybe its my 'Rob Me! I Have Money!' car.
On my way through ghetto #2 I spy a place called Interstate BBQ, although technically, the sign reads 'World Famous Interstate BBQ'. As much as I've seen 'famous' advertised today, I have to wonder if these people understand what the word means. I mean, if your BBQ restaurant is really 'world famous', do you really need to tell anybody? They already know, right? So I go inside and find a seat. Considering that I haven't seen a white person for 8 blocks, it comes as quite a surprise when 80% of the seated customers are crackers, most wearing 'dressy casual' (is there really such a thing?) work attire. The service is good, and the ribs are good but not great. Its now after 5:00, and I'm mostly happy that I finally ate something.
I get back in my car and continue my trek to Corky's. As I make my final turn, a man standing on the side of the road yells something at me or my car. I'm not sure exactly what he said, but my feeling is that he would like me to stop for more conversation. I decide against that. Just then, the car says, "You've reached your destination." But there is no Corky's in site. Hell, I don't even see a building that still possesses its full allotment of windows. I decide to circle the block and look one more time. As I come around the final turn, I see the same man on the side of the road. He yells the exact same words he yelled at me the 1st time. Again, I can't quite make them out, but I can tell by the rhythm that its the same message. I wonder whether his short term memory doesn't work or he thinks this is just a duplicate car going by. I definitely had some serious Ground Hog Day vibes, however. I was convinced that as soon as I got out of the car, a truck would drive by and splash me. And it wasn't even raining. So I decide to give up on this Corky's. I'm very disappointed that me and my technology have found zero restaurants, and my old style of driving around until I saw something good is 1 for 1. I'm also tired of neighborhoods with character. So when I see another Corky's on my Navigation system that's 10 miles away, I figure this has to be in the burbs and I point my car toward the freeway.
I find this Corky's, congratulating the car on its 1st official restaurant success. The Ribs were not as good as Interstate, but my lessened concern of my tires being stolen while I ate them made them slightly more enjoyable.
After the game, I took in Beale St. What a tourist trap this has become. Lots of beggars and franchised bars. BB King's Blues club was the only place I found live music and it was a lousy classic rock cover band. Where were the blues!? They did have ribs, though, and this gave Memphis BBQ chefs one more chance to impress me. Unfortunately, the ribs were unimpressive. In a taste test, I would not have been able to differentiate them from Tony Romas. Boss Hog's in Topeka, KS is still way at the top of my all time rib list.

more tomorrow
if you ever get to Kc try arthur bryants or gates bbq or oklahoma joes or smokehouse or haywards oh hell just find a joint and eat till your bbq heart is full

[jabjazz]

I see the beach and head to the game. The cab costs $70, and would have undoubtedly cost more if the cabbie had sat in the parking lot that was I-95 instead of taking the side streets. "Worst neighborhood in Miami," he told me as we cruised past the 3 L's of low society, Liquor stores, Litter, and Loitering. When I arrived at the stadium, which is basically thrown down with some parking lots in the middle of the ghetto,

wtf are you talking about? that stadium is no where near Miami, more like West Hollywood in the suburbs. Not even remotely a bad neighborhood.

[jabjazz]

the old Miami Heat arena was in the middle of Overtown, the worst possible neighborhood. Ive never been to the new American Airlines Arena, its near the water and nice Ive heard. When you parked at the old Miami Arena, you had to pay a couple dollars to some homeless person who would "watch your car" for you.

If you didnt, when you came back your car would probably have smashed windows. The NBA was apparently on a "revitalize downtrodden areas" kick for awhile and wanted arenas placed in areas like this. Yes, they really did.

Joe Robbie Stadium, Dolphin Stadium, whatever you call it is way out of inner city Miami. They have Super Bowls there. It is not roughing it.

[kimlee]

I always do find it entertaining how people go nuts for the smallest prizes. ... I mean some chick hits a $5 blackjack and goes nuts.

I visited Vegas with my wife's poor social worker/teacher friends. She took them to pool their money on a 50-line quarter video poker machine, $62.50 per spin. They each put in $20 and lost several times, quickly running out of money and confidence. The poor ones felt bad, and my wife felt even worse because she had led her friends to quickly lose all their discretionary money. Then they were dealt a natural 3-of-a-kind which recouped all their losses plus a small gain. I think the payout was only around $250. But they were so happy and relieved to win that the group of women screamed and jumped around. A small crowd gathered because everyone thought the women had hit Megabucks or something.

[TJMAXX]

ah shucks, it warms my heart to hear aristocracy slummin' with those poor teachers.