Memphis Blues

I walked up to the taxi stand at the Memphis airport. The dispatcher asked where I was going, I told her, and then asked if she had an estimate of what the fare would be. "Oh no, only the drivers determine the fare."

Ah, yes, I thought. Back in Memphis, the Land of the Unhelpful. Why would I have possibly thought that a dispatcher might have some guess about the fare to a major destination? (Perhaps the for same reason that later, I had the crazy idea to ask one of the security guards at the art museum whether photography was allowed. By the boggled look that I got, apparently I was the first to ever make such an inquiry.)

But at least I made it to my destination without incident. My grad student's cab driver 1) had a screaming argument with someone on his cell phone in another language while driving, and then 2) got lost.

And then my student went to the accounts office to pay for his lodging, since he was staying in the dorms. They were supposed to be open until 4:30. He arrived at 4 PM, and good thing, because the woman helped him and then slammed the window shut on the three people waiting in line behind him. So much for that legendary Southern hospitality.

The conference hotel was located across a busy-ish street from the conference location. I had the sense that should you make a mistake in crossing, the Memphis drivers would just mow you down -- not out of malice, but out of sheer bovine inertia. After all, it's not their job to stop, is it?

(In fairness, I should note that the actual conference organizers were great -- the rest of the city isn't their fault!)

The hotel is associated with the university's hospitality school, and it was built because of a major donation from Kemmons Wilson, the founder of Holiday Inns. Part of the second floor is an exhibit in his honor. And you do have to give him credit; at least according to the PR, he was the first to come up with the idea that people wanted consistency when they traveled along the new interstates -- that they might want to go where they knew what to expect, rather than having to figure out what lodging might be good in any particular new city.

Apparently when Kennons wasn't building new hotels, he was dispensing homespun wisdom. The back wall was covered with various "inspirational" quotes from him. For instance, his Garden Planting Time includes: "Three rows of Turnips: Turn up for church, turn up for new ideas, turn up with the determination to do a better job tomorrow than you did today."

But I did like the one pictured here about the wolf. :)

And as much as I appreciated Kennons's hospitality, I'm delighted to be back home again.