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My first stop was Phillip's Grocery. Phillips Grocery began it's life as a two-story saloon in 1882. In 1919 it was converted to a grocery store. Since 1948 they've been serving tasty, tasty burgers. The restaurant has a palpable sense of history. A decades old display case remains and the owners have filled the walls with vintage advertising signs. I suspect it's changed very little in years. The burger... was... great! Seared on the outside to give it some crunch, and juicy inside to complete the powerful one-two flavor punch. In these parts they're are served with mustard, pickles, and tomatoes so that's what I ordered. I sat down, took one bite, stood up, and ordered another. This was the latest in a growing number of "oh my god!" food experiences. Why on Earth would anyone set foot in McDonalds?
It was a terrific meal in a one-of-a-kind setting. Another in a growing list of unique and wonderful experiences. There was little reason to suspect that shortly I might find myself buried under Paul McLeod's house.
Before my second stop in Holly Springs I decided to buy gas. I filled the tank and put the car in gear. Just then a Cadillac pulled in front of me, blocking my exit. It was driven by none other than Paul McLeod. Paul McLeod is the curator of Graceland Too! He has devoted his life wholly and unconditionally, too Elvis. His home has been utterly transformed into a shrine to The King. His collection of Elvis memorabilia is as unparalleled as it is bizarre. If a TV Guide has an Elvis reference, he marks the page with a paper clip and adds it to a collection dating back to the 1950's. He cuts Elvis' name from newspapers and pastes them in scrapbooks... hundreds of scrapbooks! He has recorded countless hours of Elvis related video off his televisions. His home is a labyrinth containing records, DVD's, photographs and countless varieties of memorabilia. Anyone can knock on his door at any time of any day and receive a tour of his home... 365 days a year!
It would have been a travesty to miss such an otherworldly weirdness. To come all that way only to find him not home was unthinkable. Bumping into him at the gas station felt like destiny... kismet! I stepped out of the car, introduced myself and asked for for a tour. "Yup, an' if ya don't like it, I'll give ya yer money back and pay ya fer comin' " Things were looking up indeed. At long last I stepped into the house, signed the guestbook, and the tour began. Not surprisingly, Elvis music fills every room. Every inch of which is covered with Elvis. There is a wildness to Paul McLeod that belies his sixty plus years. He claims to drink a case of Coca Cola per day and I believed him. He speaks very quickly. His speech was at times slurred. At least in part due to a difficulty keeping his dentures in place, as I surmised (he really struggled with it). He punctuates statements with loud claps. He stares intently. It was both fascinating and a little creepy. When he found out I was from NYC and worked in television his eyes lit up. He asked if I knew TV people, lawyers, or publishers... anybody who could help market Graceland Too!. He offered me a 50/50 split on the profits. Shortly after the tour began there was a knock at the door. It was three college students looking to see the house. Safety in numbers! The tour resumed. In one room I noticed a dancing, singing Elvis telephone. I remarked that I owned one as well to which he responded "I got forty more...mint!" He talked about spending $3000 at Walmart so he could... no kidding... spray paint his house! A bit later he showed us the backyard where I noticed evidence of conspicuous Coca Cola consumption. Then things got dark. Paul created a kind of folk art piece... an electric chair with a gurney next to it (and yes, there was a body laying on it... I'm pretty sure it was fake). "Lot's of folks been ee-lectrocuted in that chair!" Paul McLeod laughed... Al Aitchison shivered. Yikes! How was I gonna get out of there? Back in the house he showed us plank after plank of 4'x8' sheets of plywood. All covered with photos of previous visitors. I began to think it was some kind of scoreboard of death. Then he grabbed his camera a took a picture of the group. Oh boy, I'm next... I'm next! I began to feel only marginally better when I realized there was no odor of rotting flesh coming from the floorboards. Paul decided I was "nice to talk to" and kept me there after springing the college students. As they scooted out the front door I asked them to "tell my family I love them!"
In truth, the several hours I spent with Paul McLeod at Graceland Too! were oddly wonderful. I would have died had I missed it... that was my near death experience...
Walking through the house I began to think there's no way I can justly describe how bizarre and surreal was the experience. So I shot some video...
I left Paul McLeod and Graceland Too! and drove to the heart of Delta blues country... Clarksdale, MS. I would be spending the night at The Shack-Up Inn. I guess it could be called a bed and breakfast. The main building was once, I think, a factory of sorts. The owners created rustic yet fully modern rooms. They also preserved a cavernous space for live music. The place was huge. It could host a heck of a party! Also also on the grounds were a series of cottages made to appear like dilapidated, backwoods "shacks." I elected to stay in the "Tinth" shack. It was the TenTH shack to be constructed and was made from TIN, hence the name. It should be noted the folks at The Shack-Up Inn are not trying to give customers an authentic Mississippi Delta juke joint experience. This was a delightfully tongue in cheek alternative to a Days Inn.
However, I came to Clarksdale for two reasons... The Delta Blues Museum and to hear greasy, primitive, stripped down blues. I completely failed on the latter. Most blues clubs in the area only offer live music on weekends. This was Thursday so only one was open... The Ground Zero Blues Club. It was created by actor Morgan Freeman as a showcase for local musical talent and, I suppose, to encourage tourism. The place looked pretty cool in perfectly coiffed, movie set kind of way. On stage, hosting the open mic night, was a painfully pretentious white guy who refused to remove his Jim Morrison sunglasses. I began to think how much I hated the whole thing. Import beer and chardonnay at a "juke joint?" I had two quick beers and left.
I arrived back at my The Shack-Up Inn in a foul mood. Before turning in for the night I decided to check my email and write. The Wi-Fi didn't reach my cabin so I had to go to the main building. In the office some of the staff were working late. So, I'm typing away when this young guy, Heath approaches me. "You want a rum and coke... it's free." I happily accepted. Heath was quite likeable in the manner of Jeff Spicoli from Fast Times At Ridgemont High. He was a musician/handyman who came to Clarksdale by way of Oklahoma. On one of his visits he brought friends along who saw how much he liked the town and decided "we should just leave him here." Which is exactly what happened. By day he helps out around The Shack-Up Inn and by night sleeps in an old Air Stream trailer on the grounds. Now that's livin'! We were becoming buddies. He would bring me rum and cokes and I would show him dirty pictures from my hard drive. Heath confessed in a slow drawl that "we're tryin' to get the boss drunk so she'll be nice." I was becoming quite fond of the dude. After a bit more writing I noticed the staff was doing more partying the actual work. I decided to join them... we had a blast! The boss, who was in actuality a sweet lady, finally closed the office so a few of us went to a cabin and hung out for a bit. I chatted with a couple of the other guests as Heath and his buddy Lance played lazy blues riffs on the guitar. It was a hot, damp night and their playing reflected as much. I'll stop just short of calling it authentic blues, but on that night it was far superior to anything available in downtown Clarksdale. My evening didn't turn out as planned but it did turn out to be pretty darned great!
The following day before leaving Clarksdale I checked out The Delta Blues Museum. It was just okay. There was a ton of pictures from a local photographer whose book "Blues, Booze, And BBQ" was readily available in the gift shop. There was also performers clothing and a Muddy Waters video presentation... little else. I was in and out in 15 minutes.
As I pulled out of the parking lot of The Shack-Up Inn for the last time I snapped a photo of what was purported to be the "Bluesmobile"... made famous by John Belushi and Dan Akroyd in the classic film "The Blues Brothers." Pretty cool if true...
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