"If whiskey ran ankle deep in Memphis, and each front door had a dipper tied to it, you could not get drunk quicker than you can in Memphis now."- Evangelist Sam Jones during a visit to Memphis in 1893
In Midwest College Town 90% of the fun we've experienced in the past few years has taken place in our basement, backyard, or front stoop. All our like minded consorts departed for greener pastures years ago leaving us to find companionship with the sorts of people who own "fuzzbusters" and bring sudoku to poker nights. Since the bars here cater to those born in the 1990s most bartenders around these parts do not know how to make anything that doesn't have "mojito" in its name. Lines are firmly drawn between townies and the University crowd with our neighborhood fitting primarily in the last category. In the four years of owning our house we have met but a handful of our neighbors, all medical school residents at the University who refer to themselves jokingly as "the working poor." Of course to be fair we haven't done much to attempt to fit in with the 'hood-- the plates of cake with cigars snuffed out in them in the yard, the light up Joseph that comes out for our annual Christmas party, and the drunken obscenities yelled in the direction of the most disliked neighbor during a particularly heated game of Girl Talk-- all do not make us the darlings of the drive.
Needless to say, the thought of living in a place where one can partake in "synchronized drinking" (without being a fraternity member) and walk to neighborhood bars where everybody knows your name and have some $1 Depression era cocktails, then have the most delicious dinner in an art deco movie theatre turned restaurant, then stumble home to a condo in a "pie shaped" building; is infinitely appealing to us. (Now that was a run on sentence!) Sure there are panhandlers-- call me crazy, but I'd much rather hear "Can I axe you a qwestion?" than the sounds of neighbors yelling their children's trendy names.
Only a few things stand between us and our paradise in the Mississippi Delta. Fortunately (or unfortunately in many ways) Z was able to find a job as a stop gap so we were able to quit living off our savings, thus allowing us to move in a sane manner. Going about this sensibly is terribly difficult as we are both creatures who demand instant gratification. After our last trip to Memphis in February, our house and Midwest College Town just aint a home anymore. We have emotionally split from our surroundings, which is a terrible place to be. The few joys this town used to offer us no longer satisfy and most of the time I venture out I feel like Kirstie Alley in Drop Dead Gorgeous after losing her daughter to an exploding swan float and I just want to yell "What are you lookin' at?! A whole town full of nobodies is what I'm lookin' at!" But I don't, because that would be cruel and I hate when people quote movies.
It feels fantastic to know exactly where we're going and where we want to be and for the first time in our lives I feel like we're actually working for something. I'm sure there will be a lot of gin fueled tears and anxiety and stress as we begin our slow descent out of this life we no longer want to be a part of, but at the end of the rough road ahead of us lies a platter of deep fried pickles and a pitcher of sweet tea vodka to be enjoyed in a place that doesn't see snow in April , and where the guitar and piano that "Suspicious Minds" was composed on are just a few blocks away. And if that ain't worth fighting for, I don't know what is.
In Midwest College Town 90% of the fun we've experienced in the past few years has taken place in our basement, backyard, or front stoop. All our like minded consorts departed for greener pastures years ago leaving us to find companionship with the sorts of people who own "fuzzbusters" and bring sudoku to poker nights. Since the bars here cater to those born in the 1990s most bartenders around these parts do not know how to make anything that doesn't have "mojito" in its name. Lines are firmly drawn between townies and the University crowd with our neighborhood fitting primarily in the last category. In the four years of owning our house we have met but a handful of our neighbors, all medical school residents at the University who refer to themselves jokingly as "the working poor." Of course to be fair we haven't done much to attempt to fit in with the 'hood-- the plates of cake with cigars snuffed out in them in the yard, the light up Joseph that comes out for our annual Christmas party, and the drunken obscenities yelled in the direction of the most disliked neighbor during a particularly heated game of Girl Talk-- all do not make us the darlings of the drive.
Needless to say, the thought of living in a place where one can partake in "synchronized drinking" (without being a fraternity member) and walk to neighborhood bars where everybody knows your name and have some $1 Depression era cocktails, then have the most delicious dinner in an art deco movie theatre turned restaurant, then stumble home to a condo in a "pie shaped" building; is infinitely appealing to us. (Now that was a run on sentence!) Sure there are panhandlers-- call me crazy, but I'd much rather hear "Can I axe you a qwestion?" than the sounds of neighbors yelling their children's trendy names.
Only a few things stand between us and our paradise in the Mississippi Delta. Fortunately (or unfortunately in many ways) Z was able to find a job as a stop gap so we were able to quit living off our savings, thus allowing us to move in a sane manner. Going about this sensibly is terribly difficult as we are both creatures who demand instant gratification. After our last trip to Memphis in February, our house and Midwest College Town just aint a home anymore. We have emotionally split from our surroundings, which is a terrible place to be. The few joys this town used to offer us no longer satisfy and most of the time I venture out I feel like Kirstie Alley in Drop Dead Gorgeous after losing her daughter to an exploding swan float and I just want to yell "What are you lookin' at?! A whole town full of nobodies is what I'm lookin' at!" But I don't, because that would be cruel and I hate when people quote movies.
It feels fantastic to know exactly where we're going and where we want to be and for the first time in our lives I feel like we're actually working for something. I'm sure there will be a lot of gin fueled tears and anxiety and stress as we begin our slow descent out of this life we no longer want to be a part of, but at the end of the rough road ahead of us lies a platter of deep fried pickles and a pitcher of sweet tea vodka to be enjoyed in a place that doesn't see snow in April , and where the guitar and piano that "Suspicious Minds" was composed on are just a few blocks away. And if that ain't worth fighting for, I don't know what is.
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