May 2007 - Page 6 of 9 - Bumblebee Blog

Bzzzz May 14th, 2007

Hey. Sophie here yet again. It’s Mother’s Day and Mom is taking the day off. She also says that since she was traveling all week and worked outside all day, she just doesn’t have the wherewithal to do her Bumblebee work. So, here I am.

Frankly, I’m starting to worry that Mom is getting too old for all this travel stuff. This morning, she woke up bright and early as always at 6:00 a.m. She had a couple cups of coffee while watching the birds, but no sooner had Dad ambled downstairs than she announced that she was going back to bed. I suppose she thought it was still nighttime because it was rainy, dark and windy outside.

It didn’t last long though.

“There’s too much to do!” she started complaining as soon as the sun came out.

To tell you the truth, I think she brings these things on herself. I mean, she could have asked Ben to mow the grass while she was gone, but noooooo. She says he doesn’t do it right. She says he mows the lawn with all the precision of a Navy barber. She would rather do it herself. And today being Mother’s Day and all, Dad announced that he had plans to “attempt a quiche” for dinner. Mom got this pained look on her face and immediately piped up that she thought she might like to make spanikopita (spinach pie), which Dad suddenly thought was a great idea. More work for Mom.

She was a little bit perturbed, however, that no one noticed the handy new garden cart she bought for herself needed assembly while she was gone. I hate to say this, but I’m not sure which is worse: Mom assembling things by following instructions or Dad assembling things by following instructions.

When Dad assembles things, he always shakes his head a lot and mumbles about things like “poor engineering design” and “design flaws.” Mom says he takes too much time reading directions and not enough time DOING things. And she says he uses all the wrong tools.

When Mom assembles things, she generally complains about the way the instructions are written and says bad words. Only now she’s trying not to say bad words so she says things like “dagnabbit,” “drat it all,” “what in the tarnashun!” and such. But she always pulls out ALL the power tools.

I generally think Mom is better at assembling things because she always had parts left over.

Tonight, Mom is trying to decide what to do with all the souvenirs she brought back from Graceland. She told Dad that she bought them as gifts, but I also see her eyeing her office to try and find room for them all. Honestly, I don’t know what gets into her sometimes.

In the meantime, I hope all you are ready for the coming onslaught of photos she has in store. She apparently took an amazing number of photos when she was “traveling on business.” Tough work that.

Until next time when Mom is tired,

Sophie

Posted In: Dogs and Cats, Lifestyle

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Bzzzz May 12th, 2007

Since I know you’re going to ask, yes, I made it to Graceland. Harry asked if I cried. No I did not. (Okay, almost.)

I WAS a bit sad that someone with so much early talent and good looks spiraled out like that. Elvis weighed 350 pounds when he died. He had spent most of his last years secluded in his room reading books on spirituality. (And taking pills.)

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Graceland itself is utterly tacky. Not just because it gives us a slice of a tacky era, but the presentation itself is decidedly downscale. Signs are cheap. The grounds are poorly maintained. The shops are filled with snow domes, bendy Elvis dolls, ash trays, thimbles, spoons and key chains. There are movies and CDs, of course, but the only books to be found are the Presley family cookbooks and the Graceland commemorative books. That’s probably because any biography would present a decidedly different view of his last years from the rosy one painted on the tour. (He died of heart failure, according to them. Yes, technically his heart DID stop.)

Priscilla is fairly well marginalized and Lisa-Marie is featured prominently in the audio tour. (To be expected, I suppose since she still owns Graceland today.)

About Memphis…

I do believe Memphis is the most friendly city it has ever been my pleasure to visit.

Now, that’s not to say I want to move here or anything drastic like that. I mean, it is a city whose officials feel the need to post billboards extolling the fine citizens to “Call on common sense before calling 911.” And there is clearly an issue with poverty that they’re working on.

Nevertheless, the people I met are fine, fine, fine (pronounced fahn, fahn, fahn).

I was chatted up by everyone I met, and I’m not just talking about “How are you today?” “Have a nice day.” People actually take the time to TALK with you, and especially to have a LAUGH or two. I had people flag me down after walking away from a posted map to ask if I needed help finding my way. A woman nearly threw out her back flagging me down as I was driving through town. When I pulled over she wanted to let me know, kindly, that my tire was nearly flat. Everyone wants to know where I’m from and the response is often “Oh, my! You like it there?”

The folks here display their sense of humor in a number of ways, most particularly in what they name things. There are establishments such as the Mo’ Money Taxes, Pony Up Cleaners and the Normal Hair Salon. (I guess they don’t do oily or dry hair.) And they have fine (fahn) names for roads too, like Getwell Road.

I was excited to say at the Peabody Hotel, home of those famous ducks that parade through the lobby and spend their days in the fountain. I have to say that what began as a drunken stunt by the hotel manager and his whisky swilling pal back in 1932 has probably contributed to keeping the Peabody alive in times when more grand hotels were biting the dust.

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These ducks have become internationally famous. Twice a day—when the ducks parade in and when they saunter out—HUNDREDS of people with cameras line up on either side of the red carpet to take pictures, as if they were movie stars. HAVEN’T THEY EVER SEEN A DUCK?

Of course, the Peabody shamelessly promotes the duck connection in ads and with images of the ducks on everything from napkins to coasters to little soaps in the bathroom and embellished on the towels.

The hotel itself is nice enough—not great. It lacks the refinement of a place like a Ritz-Carlton (whose doorman and car valet greeted me by name when I checked out in Phoenix). But they do compensate for any lack of refinement with the aforementioned Memphis friendliness.