Oh, Mississippi. I have spelled you for so long, but only yesterday did I visit your soil.
Today Shawn and I found ourselves on the (Texas Long-)horns of a dilemma. Do we go to “Real” Graceland and then the Bonnie and Clyde Museum before possible boat gambling, or do we go to “Fake” Graceland and then diamond mining in Arkansas?
We opted for the latter, which set us off on a day full of adventure. We drove about 40 minutes to Graceland, Too, which is a 24 hour Elvis shrine in the home of a crazy person. It looks like this…
After extensive knocking, we found ourselves unable to rouse the curator of the museum. We did, however, talk to his neighbor Charlie for quite a while. Charlie gave us the skinny on the museum. The owner, as we suspected, is crazy. He named his son Elvis Aron Presley MacLeod. Additionally, he is a paranoid schizophrenic who believes that the world is out to steal his Elvis memorabilia collection. (This same collection that caused his wife to leave him after giving him the ultimatum: Pick me or Elvis.) Charlie let us use a ladder to take some pictures of the back yard of Graceland, Too. We talked about Faulkner and racism, and he was very pleasant and asked if Shawn or I had been on Jay Leno yet.
With many handshakes we departed and headed onwards to….
Diamond mining! We were pretty sure that we would strike it rich in the diamond fields and fund the rest of our trip with diamond money. Unfortunately we arrived too late to by tickets to go mining. Fortunately, the ornery park ranger who told us so left, so we just snuck into the mine anyway. Instead of a creepy mine shaft replete with carts and canaries, what we found was more like several football fields worth of mud. So…we aren’t rich. But we did sneak into a diamond mine! So…victory!
We ate at a restaurant called Buddy’s. Apparently they are big fans of the Arkansas Razorbacks there. Who knew.
Then onto Louisiana where we did some light gambling. Unfortunately, it did not take place on a boat. Shawn won 26 dollars, so he’s paying for Waffle House tomorrow! Hip, hip, hooray!
In a side note, we have made it through much of the south without being called “Yankee,” “City Queer,” or “College Jew.”
Onward to Austin!