My Mother Sent Me to a Brothel

Yep, a brothel.

As mentioned recently, Mom's watched a lot more television than is usual for her, thanks to that June ankle break. And when she watched the movie Elizabethtown, which highlighted some places to see around the country, she wrote down the place that was highlighted for Memphis: Earnestine & Hazel's.

Earnestine & Hazel's began as a sundry store---back in the 30s and 40s (as the sign still states). In fact, it even still has the original wooden cubbies where they used to store things. And the long wooden bar is the same bar that sodas and milkshakes used to cross over. You can even still sit on those original stools.

After that time for the building, though, some time in the 50s, Earnestine and Hazel bought the store and turned it into, well, they called it a hotel. UmmHmmm.

I dropped by there with a local Memphian a couple of weeks ago on a Wednesday. Karen was behind the bar (she's worked there for years and years), and she was eager to show us around, tell us about the place, and grill us a fabulous Soul Burger. (when someone takes the slice of cheese they're about to place on your burger, but first dips it in the burger grease sitting on the grill---where the onions have just grilled---you know that's going to be quite a burger. No health food here.)

Karen showed us the two extra bars out back. If you've seen Black snake Moan, you might recognize this space at E&H---it's the location where they shot the bar scenes. Samuel L. Jackson learned to play the guitar for the role, and he played it on this stage. All that dancing took place in the large open area in front of the stage.

Finally, we wondered upstairs. Karen warned us that it was HOT---and indeed, it was. During the week, they just open the windows and turn off the upstairs AC. You could tell. It was hot. But still, wondering around upstairs must be done when you visit E&H.

Upstairs is where the, um, "guests" used to stay. They've kept the old bathrooms---tubs and all. The other rooms are now places small groups can gather to drink and chat; these are the rooms that once were the bedrooms---first for travelers (The word is that Elvis stayed there in the 50s; the place is across from the train station), and later for guests there for another sort of, um, "business." Some rooms have just six or seven chairs sitting in 'em. Others have a couch or something similar. Nothing is fancy. Everything is old. The walls are painted in vivid colors---electric blue, and in some places, deep red---and it's peeling in an eerie yet nostalgic and definitely bluesy way.


No one has made a point of refinishing the place; I guess that's the charm. Walking around upstairs, it feels old, and sure, you can even understand why some people say the place is haunted. You can just imagine Ray Charles doing those things he shouldn't have done up in those rooms. (Have you seen the movie about him? Ray? You should. It's a good one.) BB King also hung out there a lot, and people such as Ike and Tina Turner, Otis Redding, and Holwin' Wolk have all been there; it was quite the hangout for musicians in the 60s.

But it was also a house of ill repute. Yep. A brothel. I think it started as a true place for travelers, but at some point, another type of business emerged. The musicians who hung out there? Well, it's a great place downstairs, and that became a bar long ago. They hung out there. It was folks like Ray Charles who ventured upstairs---doing things behind closed doors that couldn't be done downstairs, and at E&H, he was able to have a little extra, um, "company."

Upstairs also has a small corner room with a piano, and looking out over the street is another small room with a bar. On Friday of that week, I returned with a couple of colleagues, and indeed, that upstairs bar was open. We met Nat, the old bartender who's been serving drinks on the weekends there for fourteen years. And he confirmed that he doesn't believe in ghosts. He said that when you believe in them, you can see them. And he didn't want to see them. (But he also said he knew lots of people there who had seen ghosts at E&H.)

Back downstairs, the jukebox plays on its own every once in a while. And the rumors are that it will often play a song by a musician who's being talked about by the customers. We asked Karen if she believed the place was haunted. She didn't answer completely one way or another, but as we were having the conversation, the juke box, all on its own, began playing. She raised her eyebrows to us and kinda shrugged her shoulders, walking off to check on our burger.

On that Wednesday, we'd been the only patrons there; we were there early for Earnestine and Hazel's standards. (the place usually doesn't start hopping until after midnight.) But before we left, about four different groups of people walked in. One seemed to be a young college couple. Another group looked like they might have just had a Blues gig down on Beale Street---and that they'd had that same gig for about thirty years. And still another group was obviously from out of town and around just because it was Elvis Week.

Sure, it once was a brothel. And no, Mom had no idea about that. ;-) But I'm glad I went. It is a place you just gotta see here. So I'll go back to Earnestine and Hazel's, and it'll be on my list of places to take out-of-towners---those who I know would appreciate such a place. For to me, it is indeed just a great little joint with a ton of history and stories.

Movies, Cheeks - - - and Pies?

I mentioned several movies I'd like to see, and I had hoped to see one this weekend, but alas, that didn't happen. Sometime around midnight Saturday night, the soft tissue between my jawbone and both (surprisingly this time; it's usually only on one side of the body) cheekbones began to grown---swelling for no apparent reason. The discomfort and some pain associated kept me up until after 3, sending me also reaching for various antihistamines I had in the house. I finally got to sleep, but I wasn't "right" for the next thirty-six hours or so. (Sure, most resources I consult say antihistamines don't have a great impact, but each time I've been in the ER with this, they inject me (once, via an IV) with benadryl, and symptoms subside.)

Ergo, with my exhaustion and antihistamine fog (and uncomfortable cheek area for a day or two), I wasn't up for a movie in a theater. No doubt it would not have been a pretty sight had I encountered someone not observing proper movie theater etiquette; my patience was a little thin. ;-)

(Yes, I've had more problems lately with the angioedema. No doubt, that's been because of my stress over the move, the brand new (and different) teaching, and the upcoming recruitment season (which every few days has me completely nauseated), adding to that probably new allergens weakening my defenses, and the stress over this brand new part of my career, and the move, and the recruitment. . . did I mention the stress? ;-) ). A couple of weeks ago I thought the pain in my upper ab area could only mean a terrible thing with my spleen---until I remembered the angioedema can cause swelling of internal organ areas. Um Hmm. Not pleasant. But still manageable, and I have two--- count 'em, two---epipens for just in case, and I'm less than two miles from the nearest hospital. I also have my neighbors on speed dial. (she's getting her PhD in nursing.)

(What, you ask, am I talking about? Angioedema is, ahem, let's call it a character-building condition. (life, after all, is better when your glass is half full, yes?) It's one in which, for no apparent reason, and with little notice, something swells. Maybe it'll be a finger (causing me to have a ring cut off my finger in high school), or maybe it's your bottom lip (causing my grandmother one Thanksgiving to ask who had punched me), or maybe it's patches of skin on your scalp (and who said being a law student wasn't a hair-raising experience?), or maybe it's inside of you somewhere around the area of your spleen. Most often with me, it's an eyelid. And usually just one. Maybe throw in half a lip. Oh yes, that'll build some character. It gets scary when it's been my the inside of my throat, but it's always been only half of my throat. even still, yes, that has sent me to the ER several times. Good times. ;-) And yes, stress aggravates the condition. My worst bouts were the spring during which I applied to law school, bought a house, and quit my job; during law school; and now, this summer.

I think I need to learn to meditate. :-)

Or at least I'll try to pick up an extra yoga class.

Yoga, by the way, is going splendidly. I really like this instructor's approach. We work on something specific each week. Tonight was deep breathing. And I moved another step closer to a headstand.

Anyway, what I *did* do on Sunday afternoon (after heading out to the 'burbs for a trip to Petsmart) was to get a movie from Blockbuster--recommended by dear Mom. Yes, she's still got that pesky screw in her ankle, the surgery to remove it has been postponed repeatedly. And through the summer, she's been able to (had to?) watch a LOT of movies. One of those was Elizabethtown.

It was a cute movie, but the main reason Mom mentioned it to me was its reference to Memphis. In part of the movie, one character takes a road trip that was choreographed and planned by the other main character. And she leads him through Memphis.

While here, she said he had to stop at one particular place, and Mom even wrote down the name of it to tell me where I just had to go.


(Yes, I've now been to this place where I just had to go; I'll post about that in a couple of days. Going there prompted me to watch another movie, and this one I highly recommend: Black Snake Moan (but it's not for the faint-hearted). It too was filmed on location at this particular place Mom sent me. No, Black Snake Moan didn't mention the place by name the way that Elizabethtown did, and it's a much darker movie, but it's one worth watching. Having watched that one, now I've put Hustle and Flow on my list---same director, and both were filmed in Memphis.)

Anyway, another place highlighted was the Lorraine Motel---now the National Civil Rights Museum. It was already on my list, but just glimpsing what the exhibits look like through the movie, it's moved way up higher on the list. Besides, I am sure it's going to be crazy-busy next spring, with it being the 4oth anniversary since Dr. Martin Luther King Jr was shot---at that motel.

Other than that, classes are going well. I still have lots to do to get ready for my speaking engagement next weekend, so I'll be busy for the next ten or so days.

Ah---but in the middle of everything else, it was finally time to honor my bargain and make a pie. See, when looking at my house, and upon noting the almost zero counter space in the kitchen, I (trying, naturally, to be positive) mentioned that the counter was, after all, big enough to roll a pie crust out on. My leasing agent's eyes grew, and she said, "You make pies?" We then got into quite a conversation about pies, and as we continued to walk through the house, and I kept pointing out things that needed to be done, she said, "If I get all of these things done, then you'll make me a peach pie?" I agreed.

Now, this has made a beautiful hypo for my contracts students. I've played with the words in several ways and have already planned several more. And regardless if it's actually a contract, it was a promise, and whether or not legally enforceable, I had a moral obligation.

And so yesterday, I baked my first peach pie, and I delivered it this morning. Upon doing so, my leasing agent offered to get an electrician out to fix the antique light fixture in the living room that won't work. (It's not a necessary light; it's one of five candle-like fixtures on the wall, and I also have an overhead light and a lamp.) And so, yes, keeping your moral obligations---those social promises---isn't just good for the soul, it might result in more coming your way. The way I usually see it---keep the balance of good karma points always on the plus side. :-)

Look for another post soon regarding that special place in Memphis I've visited. And in the meantime, here's a pic of Sophie in what's become one of her favorite spots:

A Little of This / A Little of That

There's no real theme to this post--just some random ramblings.

I appreciate the local television affiliates around here. I'm able to watch both Meet the Press and This Week with George (who can spell his last name, anyway?) on Sunday mornings. The DFW area had those two shows overlapping one another. (Yes, I could have recorded one, but that just didn't happen.) On the other hand, the local ABC affiliate did a dreadful job coordinating for George's extra half hour on two shows recently, cutting off a third of each debate shown. Sigh.

I went to an orientation for Spinning today at my gym. Spinning is a group class at the gym that was all the rage several years ago and is still very popular. I hadn't been at a gym that offered it--until now. I'm signed up for a class this coming Friday, and just from orientation, yep, this'll kick my hiney! But I think it'll also be an incredible workout---both cardio and strengthening.

I have a presentation to make in two weeks. What?! Two weeks?! I've kept thinking---it's not until September. Well, guess what folks, September is just seven days from now. Yowza. But it'll be fine. I've got my basic power point done, so now I'm just filling in details here and there. I'll add a lot more next weekend too. (And as of now, the Atlantic is quiet. Let's keep fingers crossed on that one as I'll be in Fort Lauderdale in two weeks. I think we've even got a dinner cruise scheduled for the Friday night activity. Finally---the ocean!)

It's hot. No, really, it's hot. Yesterday my electricity was off for almost three hours---no doubt a brown-out due to the huge demand on electricity. Sure, I am used to a hot August, and I'm used to going weeks without rain, but something mentally about knowing I've moved north and it's still this crazy hot that, well, just makes me say: It's hot.

When you rent a house with no grass to speak of in the yard, you don't water. And when you don't have to water a yard, man does that make for a nice utility bill. In Memphis, you get one bill covering gas, electricity, water, sewage, and waste all in one. Those last three together were only $29---a far cry from the $70+ I paid last summer in Texas. Then again, I did have a pretty yard there. But my gas portion was $49. Huh? The ONLY thing I've used gas for is cooking, and as you know, I like to grill a lot, so I haven't even been using my stove or oven that much. (My dryer is electric.) Something's got to be amiss with that one. I'll be making a call next week.

Football starts in one week. Hooray! I've gotten the scoop on the local A&M Club's watching party, so I'll be set up with them next Saturday evening. BTHO Montana State! Whoop!

Movies I want to see: The 11th Hour (not showing in Memphis yet); Resurrecting the Champ; Death at a Funeral; No End in Sight. Maybe I'll catch one tomorrow.

Yes, I made it to the Farmers' Market this morning. It was a close call---with the Spinning orientation too, but I made it. Peaches, sadly, are just about out of season. I need to make my leasing agent a peach pie, so we'll see if the ones I bought can work. (I promised her a pie if she'd get the house painted. I owe that woman a pie!) :-)

Ahhh---the weekend. I've got about a 1 1/2 percent chance to win a trip to Colorado this afternoon at the annual Cellerman party, so I'll check that out for the drawing. And this evening I've been invited to a party hosted by a couple of people I met when I was out recently. He owns a gym here in midtown and she is asst mng for a rug place--both wonderfully sweet and are hosting a get-together for a friend moving to Ireland. Anyway, they thought it'd be a great way for me to meet some people, so I'll check it out. I think I'll try to find a bottle of wine from Texas to take. And tomorrow---maybe I'll catch one of those movies I want to see.

Stay cool!

And We're Off!

Classes officially began yesterday. First doctrinal course for me to teach, and yep things went well!

My poor students, bless their hearts! (that's a true southerner thing to say. Well, a southerner and Texan thing. I've learned there's a difference. Sure, Texans, though, are southerners. But we're more; we're also Texan.) Anyway, my students have FOUR classes on Mondays. Bless their hearts! And I teach their last class of the day---at 2pm. After lunch. When those mixed carb/protein lunches are ripping at every bit of energy their bodies have just for digestion, making them sleepy. Heck. Bless my heart!

And like any new group of students with a new professor, they didn't know what to expect. Heck, I didn't know exactly what to expect. But it was great. I came right out of the gate, calling on a completely random student (I created a random number generator and through that, randomly ordered the students to determine an order in which to call on them initially), and it wasn't too long before a few more timidly raised hands appeared---beckoning to respond to a hypothetical question posed. As we got deeper in the discussion, even more people wanted to get involved. (I chose a book that uses a case in touch with students as the first case, which is used partly to show them how much they don't know about contract law and partly to engage them from day one.) Not that I didn't live up to my tough reputation; I called people out for having failed to complete parts of the first day assignment, but I called 'em out and moved on. Letting them know you mean what you say is vital, but picking on someone isn't part of that.

It's all about balance.

And so, I felt good about it. I even made my typical stupid jokes, which all got the expected chuckles and even some eye rolls, but I didn't sing. I'll wait for that one. ;-)

Today, although I don't have classes, was quite busy too. I met my research assistant, and she seems quite interested in my research project for her. And I had the new faculty benefits orientation. I realized, yes, in my fortieth year, I really need to get serious about retirement.

Prompted by that, I made a call to my money guy during the break, and we've agreed to talk in the next two weeks to see how far behind I am on my retirement goals. Ick. But I have to think: better late than never! (not that I've done nothing, but I've never had a plan. I have changed jobs and careers so much, with the in-between break of law school, that the goal of setting up a plan always seemed to get pushed back. Now I'm doing what I want to do---as a full career---and even if it's late in the game, it's time to really make a plan. Sure, I've got loans to deal with before a lot of that can be realized, but I feel good going in the right direction.)

I've also really gotten into a groove with the gym and walking Howard. He loves it; I love it. It's all good.

Observations

Fort Worth has a great recycling program. But Memphis is making strides---they have now started accepting boxes.

But Memphis hasn't caught on very well to the idea of a protected left-hand turn.

Then again, Memphis doesn't have a lot of congested traffic. Maybe Memphis doesn't have a need for to many protected left-hand turns.

I thought it'd be hard to adapt to a place with few protected left-hand turns, but upon reflection, I've been able to turn left during almost any green light I've wanted. I'll adapt to having few protected left-hand turns. And I've almost learned to adapt to having so many intersections on Union that don't allow any left-hand turn. I'm learning.


Originally when I got here, I was traveling the long way to work. With the short way, it's barely four miles away. And I don't have to get on any interstate.

I love doing almost all of my shopping and running around without having to get on an interstate or highway.

Memphians complain about the drivers around here. I've lived in Houston. These drivers are fine. It's the pedestrians who worry me.

Don't be surprised in Memphis when someone walks out in the middle of the road, jogs down the middle of the lane, or even rolls a wheelchair backwards down the road. And I'm not talking mad dash across the street. No, this is a leisurely stroll across the middle of a street. Crosswalks? Around here they seem to be a waste of paint.

Tennessee state law mandates any wine to be sold in a liquor stores (aka "wine and spirit stores"). But liquor stores can be open as late as 11 p.m.

Another later closing is with drinking establishments; state law here allows them to stay open until 3am. Except for Beale Street---those places can stay open until 5am. For now. (There's current controversy about whether to change that---thinking that moving the closing time up to 3 will remove a thuggish element from the street. But as most commentators have pointed out, that will remove the thuggish element only between 3 & 5. In other words, those in power aren't addressing the real problem.) But apparently there are even a few places that were allowed to keep their previous hours when state law changed---and those are open 24/7. Whoa.

It gets much brighter much earlier here---especially through the three windows facing east in my bedroom. Back in early July, the sun was up before 6am.

If you close the blinds so that the slight opening faces down instead of up, the bright light from the sun at 6 am isn't quite as bright.

A person can adapt even to bright sunlight at 6 am.

Parents should not take infants into movie theaters.

Parents who do should remove the infant for the duration of the movie at the very first sign of discomfort of the infant.

Tennessee does not require front license plates. My New Beetle is much cuter without that front license plate.

Thirty-one days straight of 100+ degree heat index eventually gets oppressive. Even walking the dog at 7:30 am is hot.

Satellite radio is pretty cool.

Satellite television is pretty cool too.

Memphis is dripping with fabulous bits of history. It's also rich in diversity and bits of culture. Okay, so it's grown, and it's become more eclectic. As one person told me: "Memphis: not as lame as it once was." Well, I wasn't here before, but I can say, it's not at all lame now.

Millipedes are creepy looking.

For the most part, millipedes are relatively harmless. But they're still creepy looking.

Even as an adult, I don't like daddy long-legs.

Sure, moving requires adjustments. But that's just part of the adventure!

Talk to Me

I used to never go to the movies alone. People never understood: I had no problem going out to eat by myself, but I felt odd going to a movie. Why is that odd? Well, as was so often pointed out to me, when you go to dinner, you usually chat and visit with someone. But at a movie, it's not a visiting sort of activity. (unless you're one of the many I've been around lately. seriously?)

But no more! Is it because I don't know anyone here? Could be, but the odd thing is that I previously so often wanted to go see movies that very few of my friends wanted to see---or had time to arrange getting together to do so. So the fabulous thing about suddenly this summer, going on my own---I get to choose the movies! (Granted, you are much more aware of people talking in the theater (or, as the case this week---a girl about four seats over who kept getting and receiving text messages throughout the show, blinding my peripheral vision. No, I wasn't watching the screen with my peripheral vision, but it was still quite distracting.)

Anyway, so on Saturday, I went to see Talk to Me--the new show out with Don Cheadle.

The show is about Petey Green---an ex-convict turned radio personalities in the 60s. It was funny, touching, and I must say, I think it did more in showing a side of the effect of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. than anything I'd seen before.

Being in Memphis, well, the city is still divided racially. This is no secret, and I don't think saying this would be offensive to anyone; it's been said to me repeatedly since I've moved here---people telling me about the city. And it's sad---this sharp division. And with Dr. King having been shot here, well, I'm glad I saw Talk to Me.

I'll admit that I was stuck in the age that education didn't really explain the full umph of the civil rights movement---coming through school in the 70s and 80s in small-town Texas, I never experienced a segregated school---only stories of them. But the civil rights movement also wasn't covered in much depth. Maybe people thought that it was so fresh in the minds of people, we didn't need to address it? Or, perhaps, maybe the thought was that if it wasn't focused on, it'd go away---and revert back? I don't know. I do hope schools do a better job these days at focusing on this huge part of our nation's history.

Granted, those two towns had a different racial makeup than many other places---first in a town that was predominantly black then one that was about fifty percent black and fifty percent white. And so, living in Memphis now, where the word "minority" is hard to define by sheer population numbers alone, well, that's not at all different to me. Interestingly, though, when some Memphians ask me "How do you like Memphis?" I can almost feel when someone is holding his breath, wondering if I'll mention something about race or the racial makeup of the city. I don't, the breath is released, and we go on to discuss the city.

But that's also allowed me to have some wonderfully frank discussions with folks about the city's history, racial divide, poverty, and yes, crime rate. (I've been a victim, by the way, of the crime I've been so warned about: my garbage cart was stolen. Yep---you read that correctly---my garbage cart! Alrighty. Well, I guess someone else really needed that cart. (which was, by the way, full of garbage.) No worries---I called the city, and the city has ordered me a new cart.) Anyway, the discussions have been fascinating---me soaking up the many views and opinions, learning about historical perspectives and current thoughts. That alone has been quite an education.

Ah---back to my past education and exposure, I didn't even read King's Letter from a Birmingham Jail until this past spring---because a colleague discussed using it as an example of wonderful persuasive writing. And indeed, it is a moving piece. I especially like one of his closing remarks: "If I have said anything in this letter that overstates the truth and indicates an unreasonable impatience, I beg you to forgive me. If I have said anything that understates the truth and indicates my having a patience that allows me to settle for anything less than brotherhood, I beg God to forgive me." Indeed.

And so, I'm so glad I went to see the movie. And yes, I recommend it.

The Fortieth Begins

What? I know; I'm not forty---yet. But last Thursday, I officially began my fortieth year of life. Alrighty.

(I know, this confuses some people. But think about it: when you were born, you began living the first year of your life, but you weren't "one" yet---not until the end of the first year did you turn one. Ergo, at the end of my fortieth year, I'll "turn" forty. Got it? :-) )

But seriously, it was a great day! After a dog walk and a good workout, I enjoyed an afternoon of self indulgence----a deep tissue massage, a pedicure, and a manicure. Fabulous! And so not knowing that many people here, I didn't have plans for the evening, but I stopped in to Bosco's for happy hour and a bite to eat, and as it turns out, I became a Cellerman!

Yes, this is the place I mentioned before. It's a great little brew pub right here in Midtown (it's located at Overton Square), and they actually make some really good beers. And better still: It's a nonsmoking establishment! WooHoo!! Anyway, each weekday around 5:30, a random drawing is held, and the winner gets to tap cask of the cask-conditioned keg. See, they brew a special small batch in the traditional British method whereby the beer has a fermentation process actually in the cask---the keg. It also isn't carbonated in the traditional method. Instead, it's dispensed with a beer engine---no gas pressure. And it's also unfiltered and they use whole hop flowers right in the cask. All I know, is that it's fabulously smooth. (The Flying Saucer in Fort Worth has a beer engine, but sadly, the supplier doesn't always keep the cask-conditioned keg in stock. Good thing with Bosco's---they make their own!)

And so, on Thursday, my number was chosen, and I got to tap the cask! (okay, admittedly---so maybe the fact that about six people gave me their tickets, upon hearing it was my birthday, that increased those odds quite a bit.) Well, they said hit the tap hard, but if you've never done it, you really don't have an idea. And I had no idea. It spewed everywhere! Oh well, they say that beer's good for your hair, right? No really---it went all over me, my hair, the bar. Oh goodness. But please---it was all in fun, and I knew it could spew. Besides, I got a fabulous round of applause! :-)

I don't have the photo of me tapping the cask, but here's one from the web, just to give you an idea. I have a feeling my spewing was twice as big as this one:



And so, what a way to begin my fortieth year. It's going to be a good one. I can feel it.

The Gift of Wellness

Satellite radio came with my car---with the initial sign-up fee paid and three months free. Listening to a station yesterday morning, called "Classic Rewind" (it plays classic rock songs not quite as old as the classic rock songs played on "Classic Vinyl"), I heard this: "Sure, you may be getting older, but you're becoming a classic."

:-)

Alrighty, then, as the day approaches that I'm closer to be coming a classic, it was absolutely time to get off my rear and find a gym. It'd been seven weeks since I worked out! Gasp! And yes, my zippers have not let me forget it.

And so, I found a nearby place, toured it, got the whole pitch, and signed up at Inside Out Gym. Why there? Well, first plus: it's oh-so-close to home (about a mile and a half). (Close to home is ideal for me; I prefer to work out in the mornings---after I walk Howard, and before I shower for work.) Second, the place doesn't charge extra for classes. (Seems that a lot of places try to nickel and dime just a little too much.) Also, the philosophy fits with me. Here's a line from the website: "We believe in total health and fitness (body, mind, and spirit), but we do it in an old fashioned way - with hard work." And although there was a joining fee (shouldn't that fee be waived for people new to town? I think so. Okay, so maybe I'm biased), I see the sign-up fee as my birthday gift to myself. (Okay, sure, it's not the only gift I'm enjoying this birthday week! ;-) ) Oh, and finally, it's not a "big box" kind of place; in fact, it was one of the owners who gave me my tour, and they work out there right along with everyone else. A noncorporate kind of place is my kind of place---I have usually found those folks care more about their clientele.

Tuesday morning was my first day back. With my different schedule, I get to use a gym that's relatively empty. But a downside exists---unless I want to be there at 6am (and I don't), I miss out most morning classes. Oh well. Still, I can catch yoga on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, and there's a Pilates class on Wednesday evenings. They also do offer midmorning classes on Wednesdays an Fridays. I'll figure out what works for my schedule.




But the other cool thing is that they have rowers! I love the rowing machine! Seriously, I get quite tired of the treadmill and elliptical for my cardio, and I've never been one for the bike. But a rower! That can provide a great cardio workout and actually work the whole body---not just lower half. Love it! And they even have rowing classes (like spinning classes on bikes)----where everyone rows as a group, with the pace set by a trained instructor. I have my rower orientation scheduled for this Saturday. After that, I'm good for classes or to just row on my own. (and I'll eventually try a spinning class too.)

Naturally, it's quite a different clientele than my old Y. (I did check into the Y here, but the hours and classes were just not worth it for one that'd be about three times as far away as Inside Out. Plus, the rowers really won me over.) I didn't ask specifically, but best I can tell, Inside Out doesn't have child care. Remember, though, this area is heavily populated by single professionals. And I didn't notice a lot of retired folks. I am going to missed those retirees from the old Y.


I also went back Tuesday evening for a yoga class. It'd been so long since I'd practiced, but what a great class! I think I'm going to learn a lot more about positions with this class. And although I never thought I'd be able to do it, I actually got into an L-handstand yesterday. (It's a handstand but you bend at the waist so that your legs are perpendicular to your torso, and your feet are against the wall while you're standing on your hands, facing the wall. (I don't think I've ever, no, not even as a kid, done an actual full handstand. That wasn't my thing.)) Our teacher does a great job of leading you step-by-step into a new position, and I tried it. And I did it. I'm so excited for my practice! (Granted, something (the lunges, no doubt) aggravated my knee, and it fussed all evening. But it's better today. I'll watch those lunges next Tuesday.)


And so, another birthday gift to me was the gift of wellness.




But not just for me! Howard met his local vet yesterday morning. He needed the bordatella vaccine (I forgot to get Doc to update that one) so that he can go get social with some more pooches and we needed to establish a relationship with someone local---an Aggie, but of course!



I liked the clinic (Memphis Animal Clinic--my neighbors Cole & Michelle referred us there), and I liked Dr. Tower. The staff all seemed wonderfully friendly and attentive, and things seemed to run smoothly. They even have a groomer on staff, so Howard went back this morning for a much needed haircut.



Why the bordatella? Well, although my neighbor has already offered to take care of Howard and Sophie during all of my upcoming fall trips, just in case I do need to board Howard with little notice, he'd need that vaccine. And see, we still haven't found a fenced-in off-leash park. Best I can tell, Memphis lacks that. So Howard might just go a few times a month to, oh heavens, I cannot believe I'm going to do this, to doggie day care. I'll keep you posted on that one! :-)

Out Back

Our new backyard---we love it! Ah, yes, Howard especially. No, we don't have the flowers we used to, but we have lots more shade from trees, and many squirrels call the trees home. Once I got my bird feeders up a couple of weeks ago, the word went out in the squirrel community: All you can eat Buffet!

Ah, but sadly, this morning after I returned from the gym, I opened the door to let Howard out, only to immediately usher him back inside. It appeared that survival of the fittest had been in action in the back. A squirrel lay on the brick patio, dead. It appeared to have fallen from the tree far, far above (there are several squirrel nests in them thar trees). I cleared the body away, called dead animal removal (so it doesn't sit in the garbage for six days), and washed away the blood. Sad, but then again, the squirrel population isn't served well by having a squirrel passing along the "I can't run along a tree branch safely" gene. Sigh.

But the birds come too! I have a lot of cardinals---males and females---and a few doves who regularly enjoy the safflower seed I put out. (Here there are more cardinals and fewer doves. Hmmm---guess being closer to St Louis, makes sense. ;-) Anyway, several other varieties have been hanging around the feeder, but I haven't been able to get a good look yet. I'd like to get another feeder up soon. But the tree branches are a bit too high for my long hanging hooks, so I need to get another ground pole. Eventually.

Howard, however, distracted by watching out for squirrels, tends to ignore the birds now. WooHoo! He'd gotten in the habit of chasing birds back in Texas---I have a strong suspicion that a mockingbird did a little dive-bombing shortly before we moved. But now, Howard will often go out the door, stop at the top of the steps of the back patio, then dash across the yard to the back where the feeder hangs. Often, two or three squirrels scatter---leaping to the safety of nearby trees. It's quite a sight!

Here are a few shots of the back. In most, you can see Howard, first surveying the trees after his initial dash out to the back, and in later shots, just hanging out, sniffing and watching. (The building at the back of the yard is my garage; yep---it has an extra room to the side of it. The building has electricity, and with a window unit, could even be useful. But for me, it's just extra storage---lots of extra storage! (which is actually mostly empty right now.))







Here are a few more of Howard---soaking up the sun while keeping watch on the trees, hanging out on the patio, then stepping up to give me a kiss on the steps. What a sweetie!







Of course, I haven't forgotten Sophie! She has wondered into the backyard once---totally under my supervision. She smelled everything and had a good time checking things out, but she still most enjoys hanging out near the air vent. I figure it's like her little spa treatment.





Sophie also has found her basket of toys. I keep them in the same spot as before--in a basket on top of the piano. Her favorite toys are pipe cleaners, of all things! Most mornings I awake to find two, three, sometimes four pipe cleaners on the floor in the study or bedroom. It's our game: I pick them up and return them to the basket, and the next night, she goes hunting again---bringing me, of course, her prey.

And thus, yes, she goes outside only when supervised. After all---pipe cleaners are a little more tame to hunt than the things that really lurk in the outdoors.

Okra and Sunflowers

But of course, I went back to the Farmers' Market Saturday morning. This seems to be a routine that'd be nice to get in to.

This time, though, Howard came with me. No, the city of Memphis doesn't allow dogs at the market, but the downtown vet clinic offers courtesy pet sitting there. How great is that! So on a Saturday morning, Howard got to go for a ride (his first in the Beetle), meet new people, see other dogs, and I got to get more veggies!

And indeed--I picked up more okra! And yesterday, I finally tried it grilled. After all, I was grilling my fresh corn and squash, so it seemed like the right time to try the okra. It was fabulous! It wasn't at all slimy, and it had a great grilled/roasted flavor that I've not had with okra before.

How did I do it? Wash the okra, then simply skewer it using two skewers. Essentially, use two skewers for as many pieces as will fit (but with a little space between each piece), creating a sort of ladder---the okra will be the rungs of the ladder. Doing it this way makes it easier to turn. Brush with a little olive oil, lightly dust with a little salt (I use freshly ground sea salt), then grill! I guess it was on for about eight or nine minutes on each side. Oh---when eating, though, don't eat the very end---it's tough.

What else did I get? This week, I splurged for the fifteen dollar flowers. I asked her to focus on lots of sunflowers with some red flowers thrown in. I love 'em!







Photos here, of course, show the flowers, but they also give you a few more views of the inside of the house. Many folks have asked more about how things look now that I'm all settled in. Well, there ya go! :-) And yes, as the first pic shows, there's Howard, keeping a watch on the front yard.

Farfegnugen

You'll understand the title of the post in a minute. To sum up, the subtitle is, "Happy!"

It's actually a dual theme: First, the primary message: Dare to be Happy. ---the current ad slogan, and one that's serving well. And the dual meaning of it? Well, gosh---Happy Birthday to Me!

Blame my father.

Or thank my father.

Either way, we do birthdays right. Okay, sure, the word is birthday. But we claim our birthday week. :-) (sometimes we'll claim a month, but you have to reserve claiming that for the folks who really love ya.)

And thus, Thursday officially began my birthday week---it was one full week before my birthday. Me? I finally have done what I've wanted to do for years:

WooHooooooo!

(and yep, that's my house the car is parked in front of! (The top photo was taken at Overton Park very near the veterans memorial. The big field in the background is an area lots of folks take their dogs. And the second photo is in front of the museum in Overton park.))

That's right---I have a new convertible! And yep---it's a New Beetle convertible. Harvest Moon Beige with a cream top. Fabulous! And yes---I love it!!!

I spent hours and hours in dealerships, I drove a lot of cars, looked in a lot of trunks, and crunched a lot of numbers.

(Note to GM: bravo to you for being the first American company to have a retractable hardtop, but the trunk---seriously? The trunk, with the top down, has a mere 2.2 cubic feet of space. Okay, I could have perhaps handled that. But here's the kicker: you cannot access the trunk at all with the top down! Not only that, but you cannot lock the glove box. What?! Thus, that car was out---well, and IMHO (in my humble opinion), the drive wasn't that smooth. (It's the G6 I'm talking about.) Granted, the G6 has a much better look that the Eos (the Volkswagen with a retractible hard top), but not to be able to access the trunk at all without having to put the top back up, well, that's just silly. Get with it, GM. Yes, the Eos, on the other hand, allows you to access a space in the trunk with the top down. Sure, it's not a lot of space, but it'd be enough for a small bag or two for a weekend get-away. (I first considered the hardtops after a friend showed me his Mercedes---similar trunk access as the Eos. Guess it's the German engineering applying to more than just the engines.))

Anyway, once I started considering a New Beetle, each time I saw the car, I knew: that's my car. I mean, come on---it's a car that smiles at you! Just look at the big grin on my car:

See?

And yes, I drove a lot of cars, and this one just felt like my car! I have another friend who, for the last two years, has been listening to me talk about wanting a convertible. He kept trying to convince me to go Nissan or something. Well, first, I wanted a back seat. A two-seater was not an option. Then my friend made a comment that I'd look sexy in a Nissan.

Okay, sure, the Nissan is a sexy car. And no, the Beetle is not exactly thought of as a sexy car. But the Beetle is FUN! It's HAPPY! I told my friend that I was buying my fun and happy car---I'd just have to bring sexy to it on my own. :-)

And yes, Beetle owners seem to be a lot like Miata owners----some sort of culture or club all their own. I have a friend who drives a Miata, and I noticed him always waving at other Miatas. He told me it's just something they do; Miata owners wave at each other. And in just two days, I've noticed a similar phenomenon with my Beetle. We smile at each other. After all, it's a happy car, and I guess, that makes us happy to see each other happy.

Ah---and the convertible? Love it! I had the top down before I pulled away from the dealership and as much as possible since then.

Howard? He had his first ride this morning. And he seemed quite pleased. He'd been in a convertible before, but it was the Miata and we were both passengers---sharing one seat. That was not exactly comfortable for either of us. But he was a perfect traveling companion this morning, happily feeling the wind on his face and through his hair.

Yep, it's true: farfegnugen.

(Ah---translation: it's German for "driving pleasure.")

Oh! And get this--I bought my Volkswagen in, of all places, Germantown. No, really---seriously. :-)

Farfegnugen!

May I Have This Dance?

It's official---I'm a part of the Fall 2007 faculty recruitment with the American Assoc. of Law Schools. I'm going to the Dance.

It's a long process, but it's a good system. And it's all about getting that coveted job in the Academy.

In August, if you're on your toes, the dance begins. Anyone who wants to participate fills out the online Faculty Appointments Register form, uploads a resume, and pays the fee. (How much? Well, it's significant, to me. I don't have to make a car payment until September, and good thing; the fee is a little more than my monthly car payment!). The deadline this year was August 3. And on August 13, the first round of candidates' information gets distributed.

I've received confirmation about the dates this year; the one-page FAR forms that each interested candidate completed will be sent to all schools on August 13 for the first round. (If you miss the first round, there are two more distributions---in September and October. No worries; I made the first round.) In all, we're talking hundreds of candidates. (I try not to think of that too much.) Once those one-pagers are sent out, recruitment commitee members sort through those forms---sometimes very quickly---looking for candidates that might match their needs.

And so, for now, I wait for that distribution and the sorting. In all reality, when the distribution happens, faculty members are enjoying their last fews days of summer before finishing up their syllibi for the fall, attending those first faculty meetings, then being busy with the first week or so of classes---getting back into the swing of things. And some schools do not start for another three weeks. (I begin in two.) And some committees will put off going through the forms---standard procrastination. And so yes, it might be a little while before my phone rings.

But in the meantime, I will receive online access to the Placement Bulletin---also a part of my registration with the FAR. That publication lists all available positions. And yes, we're talking about positions that will begin in August 2008.

But hopefully, some calls will come in, and I'll schedule some interviews for the conference---the big dance. The conference will be the last weekend in October in DC. And it's essentially back-to-back interviews for everyone---the committees and the candidates.

Here's to hoping that my dance card is decently full! :-)

Go See the Movie

Sicko.


Go see it.

Seriously---it should be required viewing for all high school seniors and college students.


I'm not saying the movie is perfect. I'm not saying it doesn't have flaws. But too many people are not willing to see the horrible problems our country has with health care----insurance companies, pharmaceutical companies, and yes, a lot of doctors.


Go see the movie. Think about the people you know who don't get an ailment taken care of because they can't afford the copay or the deductible or to have a pre-existing issue on a record. Then there're the millions of Americans without coverage.


Interestingly, the movie doesn't focus on our failure to make sure everyone is insured. Instead, it's more about those of us who are insured---who could very well face a devastating illness that could bankrupt us. As someone who is insured and yet had to pay almost $900 out of pocket for an MRI---well, indeed.

Houston, we have a problem.


Go see the movie.