Brock came to pick us up. He brought a pump for all our sports balls. He's a thoughtful and kind young man. He dropped Johnny off at the pool and Max and Phil bought the most unbelievable dried pork crackling. We ingested pure pig fat and felt weird. We headed to a famous town called Tupelo...famous cos Elvis, of Elvis Presley fame, was born there in the tiniest house you'll ever see. Ironic considering what a fatty he ended up being. Anyway, Kieran needed something fixed on his bass and a wonderful guitar shop (Main Street Vintage Guitars) was recommended to us by our producer Dennis. We saw a picture in the store of Dennis when he was 17 and it gave us a wee chuckle. He actually kind of looks younger now...he's introduced us to drinking the blood of young pigeons and eating the cartilage of raw fish. We feel younger but we smell weird.
Anyways, we went to check out the little Elvis birthplace museum thing and bought postcards with famous Elvis recipes like fried banana and peanut butter sambos and other things that make you want to cover your fat belly in a white sequenced jumpsuit. There was a great quote on the wall from his cousin, "Elvis never forgot his raisin'." Ironic again as I'm pretty sure a piece of fruit, fresh or otherwise, never passed his chubby lips.
So off to Ely's Barbeque for some local treats...shredded bbq'd pork and chicken, coleslaw, fries and the sweetest sweetened ice-tea ever sweetened with all the sugar...ALL THE SUGAR! It must be said that all the ribbing Elvis just received from us is out of love and an understanding of just how easy it is to lose oneself in southern comfort food.
We went to Parrish's again and the owner, Parrish himself, bought us a few rounds of different things and we began to reenact our shouty pool playing from the other night. To make sure we didn't go down that road again we organised to meet Dennis for dinner. Japanese. Lots of fresh tuna, salads and tempura. Our bodies were confused by the freshness but were grateful for the break. A nice time was had and he spoke fondly about our music. We like that kind of thing. A plan was hatched by Dennis to go to New Orleans for the superbowl. The New Orleans Saints are playing the Indianapolis Colts for the right to be crowned champions of the world...even though they probably wouldn't let a team from another country play...that's for the best really as someone would get hurt, and it wouldn't be the Americans. Anyway, New Orleans, if the Saints win, will erupt into a whirlwind of boozing, boxing, horn-playing, looting, pyrotechnics, bad french, a little voodoo and a lot of fun. If we're there we'll soak it up. If not then we'll avoid getting punched or looted. Win win really.
Somehow we ended up in City Grocery again having the cheapest beer in the place, Paps Blue Ribbon. Cheap and cheerful we were. Brock came to save us and we hit the sack...via a McDonald's drive-thru where we laughed so hard we couldn't even order.....we really really slept. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
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