Memphis to Jackson

Monday January 30, 2007

I get up way too early to go to the Greyhound Station to catch the bus to Jackson. The cab driver is one of those who is really interested in history and you wish that it was actually light out so you could see the downtown area. I do look around and check out hotels so when I come back, I can spend a night or two in the downtown area so I can pick up the flavor of the town.

I remember the downtown area surrounding this bus station. Last year on my way to visit my parents I had a layover here to change busses. On the way in to town on that trip, I was looking around trying to find a better place to eat breakfast than in a Greyhound Bus Station and saw a Denny’s. When I had walked over to that Denny’s the waitress was totally rude and even though the restaurant was less than half full told me that there was no way I could be served.

I asked her why and she just said that was the way it was. I got the idea that they didn’t like serving people who came in on the busses. When I left that Denny’s kind of irate, I looked up and saw a sign for TGIFridays. I thought, wow, I wish it was later, they serve some decent food. When I walked by it, I had realized that the restaurant was attached to a hotel and that they might serve breakfast. They did have a great breakfast buffet at that TGIFridays. If you are at the Greyhound Station in Memphis and have a layover, just walk out the front door and look up and to your left, you will see the sign.

With over an hour to wait and no decent book to read, I now wish that I hadn’t had breakfast before I left the hotel.

Instead, I watch the ASAP Security Service randomly checking out people for weapons and whatever, before they get on the bus. I saw some really interesting knives and bottle of booze that were confiscated. And I have two wonder what Greyhound does with what they confiscate. I mean, these were not cheap knives.

ASAP Security Service has a man on its shirt that has an automatic rifle. Nothing makes me feel safer than the thought of someone who through inadequate background checks could easily be an ex-con proficient in killing people and drug running being issued an M-16.

My bus is picked to be checked out by security and I have to laugh, unless they unload my bag entirely, there is no way they can see even close to every thing. My huge pair of scissors makes it through easily and while the guys having smaller knives are having those smaller knives getting confiscated. Ahh yes, you have to brood upon the insanity of life when you think in terms of world safety and racial profiling. I am an older white woman. The men were young African American gentlemen. The guy doing the checking was a younger African American gentleman.

Huge bottles of booze and knives. Is that rally a bottle of Ripple that I see before me? O-M-G, how can he stand to drink that nasty stuff. Kind of like that old Boone's Farm I used to drink. Where were my brains. Anyhow, I am glad the world is such a safe place now.

On the way to Jackson I shoot some pics out of the bus windows. Here we are in Grenada where there is a dive called Catfish Corner. Most of the bus drivers and several others seem to like to eat there. It looks a little like a hole in the wall, but then again, some of those are the best places to eat.

Now both times that I have been through Grenada, I have not been hungry. Maybe next time I should plan better. As I think about it, I realize that even I couldn’t eat Catfish for Breakfast. It’s next to a tiny mall called Stewart’s Square.

There is a lady on the bus who is just now heading back to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. She was talking about how she lost everything, but that she still thought of NOLA as home and wanted to go back there to live.

I have needed to make some phone calls and I found out that it is 8* up in Michigan pretty near to where I live, not including wind chill. Gee, I am sorry about your luck. Grin.

In the town of Durant there is a sign painted on the side of a wall that says: “Farmer’s Market and Salvage Groceries.” It is painted on the side of a tire store. I have to wonder if the building has changed hands or if something different happens on weekends. I try to get a pic, but can’t get one.

The next shot however is why/how I love the interesting aspects of searching and confiscating stuff from the passengers on a Greyhound Bus. One of the bus stops around this area is in a gas station/food stop which says:

Amigos Gas Station: Cold Beer Hot Food

I mean, why take something away from someone when Greyhound Stations on down the road, sell what is being confiscated?

After they took we leave the town of Durant, I randomly shoot some pics. I was fascinated for a bit by some clouds that looked as if there was a rip in them.

mI understand that a lady on the news said that things that look like that are caused by the heat from jet planes.

Next stop: Jackson

I take some random shots along route 462 to catch the area flavor.

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Exciting stuff, huh?

Here is a shot down at I55 on the way to Jackson. The clouds still look as if there is a rip in them.
I got to lead a teleconference call and enjoyed that. I took some time to look at a pattern for a train afgan. (I like trains, remember when I was at CAlifornia Adventure and had my pic taken by the train that was there?) Then sat and talked with some friends. I did, I did, get to see the Wizard of Oz Conference Room. Film at eleven.

Later that night, we were watching a spot of TV when my daughter called. She wanted me to talk to my grandson to calm him down as he was in the middle of a drug bust. Even though the police knew there was a kid in the bedroom sound asleep, the policeman decided to use utmost caution and to wake him up while holding a gun fully cocked and loaded about four inches from his nose.

Now there has to be something wrong when you are 12, it’s around 10:30 at night, your mother requires you to be home to baby-sit your little sister and you get caught in a drug sting when you don’t do drugs.

I try to calm him down. Having your life threatened at any age is something that you don’t really ever get over. And for him it will be worse as his mother chooses to put him in that situation. Everyday he will think about it while he tries to go to sleep and will wonder if it will happen again. It took me years to get over being cut in a robbery and I wasn’t in that situation again.

My daughter commented that he will grow up to hate the police. It’s interesting, as I see that she hates the police as they drag off her friends who sell drugs. I don’t see it the same way.

It’s not the police who put him in danger, but his mother. They have up to six weeks to charge my daughter. One of my friends owns the house they live in.

My daughter talks about buying a house. She’s just damn lucky she didn’t lose her car. Actually, she still easily could if she doesn’t get a good lawyer. She asks me if I know of one. No offense, but why would I? I don’t do a whole lot that would mean that I would need them.

I miss them all and wish that I could be home.

Happy trails, Marty