Left or Right project

No sleep till Brooklyn

cduggan9 — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 03:42:56 +0000

Back home, will do the math later.

Day 6: I thought you would be bigger

cduggan9 — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 20:10:42 +0000

After Sun Studios I made a mad dash out to the original Corky’s BBQ for some lunch, again on a suggestion of a friend. And holy cow was it a good suggestion. Started out with one of those clogged artery fried bloomin’ my blood is 3 times thicker now onion things. Then came the dry rub ribs. Absolutely phenomenal. If you ever find yourself in Memphis, take the time to get out of downtown and eat here.

After chow, it was off to finish my Elvis story, at Graceland. As long as I could make it there in time, which fortunately I did. When you arrive at Graceland there is a big hubba-loo parking, buy tickets, wait for a bus, drive across the street thing you have to go through before actually getting to the house, but overall not too torturous.

Once on the bus you are literally carted across the street and through the famous gates adorned with musical notes, then up the driveway to the front door of the mansion. And here was my first surprise, it’s not that big. Granted, we didn’t get to see the second floor, which was Elvis’ private area when he was alive and they have kept it that way, but all the other rooms we did get to visit where rather average in size. Crazily adorned, but just regular sized. Even the famed Jungle room was less “junglely” than I had expected.

After the house, the tour takes you to an exterior office and some other small places until you hit the Trophy House, where all his Grammys, gold records, and other awards are housed, the sheer numbers of which is exceptionally impressive. Near the end of the Trophy House are some displays that show some of his outfits from his film career and such, including his tux and Priscilla’s dress from their wedding. I’m not sure which was more shocking, Elvis’ black crushed velvet paisley embossed tux (which seemed to me to be the beginning of Elvis’ downward spiral in style choices), or Priscilla’s rather plain white wedding dress which someone deemed it necessary to have hard nipples on the mannequin that held it.

From the Trophy House you are lead to the handball court, which houses a bar/lounge area complete with original pinball machines, and a room that was originally the handball court. The court is now home to Elvis’ Vegas years, the outfits, the records, the sequins, the capes, the end of the uber cool young man that changed music forever and the beginning of the glitzy showman that got lost in the trappings of celebrity. I know a lot of people loved this Elvis, with all the cheese, flair, and big ass gold sunglasses that went along with him, but after spending the earlier part of the day at Sun Studios I couldn’t help but feel a little sad. I loved the raw, young man that shook our country, both with his music and his hips, and to see such a great talent turn into something that is badly bejewelled and impersonated around the world just feels wrong. May the King RIP.

A few pics here: Day 6 pics

Day 6: May the Sun always shine

cduggan9 — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 07:41:33 +0000

Luckily, for all of us, the small music studio on Union Avenue in Memphis, and the birthplace of rock-n-roll, still stands.

What started out for me as a quick trip of musical curiosity, became something much more, bigger, and unexpectedly powerful. In an unassuming section of east Memphis sits a very unassuming building, aside from the giant guitar that hangs from the facade. I walked into the main entrance of Sun Studios and found a small shop and cafe, with an even smaller record shop in the rear. The only way to see the rest of the studio is to take the tour, and it is well worth it. The tour starts with a guide walking you up a small stair case to the second floor gallery, a small museum of sorts, where the story of Sun Studios, rock-n-roll, and all the people that played a part is told. Then you get to head down to the recording studio itself where these giants of music, Carl Perkins, Roy Orbison, Jerry Lee Lewis, BB King, Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, worked their craft.

As an aspiring artist myself, that has a desire to do something truly great with my work, I couldn’t help but be moved by what this small group of individuals, with a common interest, and a common love of an art form, achieved. How they made history, a history that would effect the world, and to hear how they did it and see where it took place was… Inspiring is the best word I can think of, just not a word of the right magnitude.

What was also fortunate about Sun Studios being my second stop of they day, was to see the origins of the King himself, Elvis Presley, because later in the day would come Graceland.

Find some shot here: Day 6 pics

Day 6: You don’t step on Superman’s cape, and you don’t mess around with…

cduggan9 — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 06:56:51 +0000

Jim. My pal Jim here wasn’t as menacing as he appears. He was very helpful panhandler (just one of many roaming around Beale Street) that I encountered on my morning visit back downtown to see some sights, take some shots, and visit the Gibson Factory Store. Jim filled me in on all the locations I was hoping to take in and was more than willing to ham it up for the camera… in exchange for a little lunch money and listening to a poem he wrote (which he managed to get the first 3 lines out before giving up).

Directly after my chat with Jim, I took in the Gibson Factory Store and pretty much drooled for an hour, played some amazing guitars, and found what I wanted for Christmas. So if any of you are shopping for me out there… Gibson AJ birds eye maple. Only about $6000.00

Next stop would be Sun Studios.

Photos from all of Day 6′s events here: Day 6 pics

Day 5: Music City (blues edition)

cduggan9 — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 06:28:28 +0000

Just outside of Memphis I got a call from my cousin Dawn that lives in the Memphis area and she was kind enough to put me up for the evening with her husband Chip and son Austin. Unfortunately for me Austin had a concert performance that night, so the time I was going to have with them was going to be short. But before we departed company for the evening, I was armed with all the information I would need to get me down to Beale Street and out of any trouble should I have gotten myself into some.

Much like Broadway in Nashville, Beale Street wasn’t as busy as I had expected. So I saddled up for some grub and started hopping bars again. No raven haired vixen drummers on this night, but what I did find was pure musical fire. A blues quartet,that was ridiculously tight, yet raw and honest all at the same time. Couldn’t have asked for a better night of blues that had a first set ending with a brilliant and thunderous version of “Voodoo Child” that I will be remembering for a long time.

Thank you for sending me to Beale Street.

Shots from the day here: Day 5 pics

Any guesses where I’m at?

cduggan9 — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 22:34:19 +0000

On my way…

cduggan9 — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 15:41:11 +0000

You have no idea how stoked I am to actually be at a point in my life where this song is actually relevant. Now all I need is a schweet red cowboy shirt, big ass hat, and a basset hound named “Fred”.

I will continue to catch up on posts from the past days on my trip back, so keep your dial on channel 9 and let me know about the where-a-bouts of them county mounties.

Day 5: Who wants to go fast? Granny wants to go fast!

cduggan9 — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 06:43:47 +0000

Spent the morning cruising around downtown Nashville, snapping some shots and visiting some music shops. Lunch time was spent around the Vanderbilt campus grabbing some eats, and visiting the Bookman/Bookwoman used book store, on a suggestion of coworker and friend Stacy. Very cool place, wall to wall books, and a couple weirdos.

After the book store ya’ll had me heading to Memphis, and en route I picked up an odd travel companion. Bombing my way east on route 40 at about 90 mph, I noticed a car in my rearview gradually gaining ground. After a while said car had caught up and was working it’s way past me. To my surprise and delight, the driver of the little green Chevy was a silver haired old lady, easily 75 years young, peddle to the metal, wheels on fire. She eventually took the lead and cut in front of me, after a while I returned the favor and the two of us played car tag around the century mark for a good hour and half before her exit from the interstate. Maybe she just liked to literally drive her age (+20), but she was great fun “company” cutting through western Tennessee.

Some Day 5 selects here: Day 5 pics

Day 4: Music City (country edition)

cduggan9 — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 01:21:56 +0000

Nashville arrival was later than expected, after check in I realized that I hadn’t eaten yet and took the easy way out by letting you all vote on the closest 3 places, first vote won, and it was nothing worth writing about. But with a full gullet I was off to experience the legendary music scene of Broadway.

Unfortunately, the cold and the rain kept Broadway rather quiet, real quiet, minus the sounds of live music spilling out of all doors. But inside those doors where very few people. So I just hopped from bar to bar listening to some very good musicians until finding myself in the Second Fiddle, watching a very attractive female drummer playing the part of a raven haired vixen on the skins, to a T. I think there may have been some other people on stage as well… I do recall them doing a killer version of the Cranberries’ “Zombie” with a slight country slant.

Some pics here: Day 4 pics

Day 4: Ride the Dragon

cduggan9 — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 00:20:29 +0000

Woke up with a slightly fuzzy head, more rain, and a quest to slay a beast Wednesday morning. That beast came in the form of Tennessee’s Tail of the Dragon, a winding, twisty road up the side of a mountain that actually ends in North Carolina. And it was raining. And a tremendous amount of deadfall littered the road. Here is a recap of the drive.

At the bottom of the drive, there is a motel/bar & grill/souvenir shop that happened to be closed for the season. But on the property grows the “Tree of Shame”, which is armored with pieces of vehicles that wrecked on the road, and by reading some of the inscriptions on the tree, some wrecks that claimed lives. Understanding that fact makes the “Tree of Shame” a rather insensitive name, don’t you think? If a road like this existed back in New York, with these conditions, and the unfortunate possible outcomes that come with it, the road would be shut down in a heartbeat. But not here in Tennessee, where if you’re dumbass enough to drive like a maniac over one of the craziest roads on the planet and get yourself killed… so be it. Actually, on second thought, “Tree of Shame” is the perfect moniker.

After surviving the drive myself, I continued my rainy drive back north-west towards Nashville over what I would have imagined to be a very picturesque road, the Cherohala Skyway, but alas, everything was grey and fogged out.

Some pics here: Day 4 pics