I woke up in a roadside motel in what I had been certain the night before had been Tennessee, but it turned out that I was in Arkansas. I should have guessed. The carpet was a wet spot. No, I didn’t mean to type that the carpet HAD a wet spot. I stepped out the door in the morning and my four hundred pounds of dog cowered behind me when they saw my motel cohorts–to say that banjos were playing in my head might be the understatement of the century. Sad to say, we missed the continental fare that had been offered at my late night check in as, “cheesy grits and honey buns–there’s coffee if ya move yer ass early enough.” Since we were in Arkansas, I am guessing the motel would be about a three star. I mean, there weren’t stains on the towels or anything.
The day was AMAZING! I found a fantastic dog heaven for my pooches to get some exercise while my mom, Melody Minx and I ran to Graceland. So here’s the DL on that…if you have the means, I highly recommend it. :). It wasn’t gaudy at all. It was lovely and thoughtful. A family home. It makes you rethink all the bloated, raunchy, baubled opinions you might be harboring about him and is kind of a great experience. I have included photos of Elvis’s plane (and the bed in his plane’s master suite–giggle). Please don’t tell Graceland. I wasn’t supposed to touch.
A friend suggested some fried chicken in Memphis would change my life. I like fried chicken. My life’s a little weird right now. I decided, “why not? What’s better than deep fried food in the humid heat?” You’ve seen the posts. She didn’t lie.
We made a quick stop to visit some good ole boys. They were meanin’ no harm. I tried to sneak into the General….there was no room at the inn for two Great Danes in Nashville, so we are at another roadside motel somewhere about 25 pitch black minutes outside of the city limits. The wet spot on the carpet is smaller here. And only ONE of the dogs felt the need to sleep by the door….