As throngs of delighted fans departed the arena, there seemed to be an unspoken consensus among all the attendees. The amoeba of people gradually found it's way to neighboring Beale St., just past the Gibson Factory located directly outside the Forum.
Beale St., for those not from Memphis, is akin to Pittsburgh's Southside, New Orleans' Bourbon St., or Philadelphia's South St. The cops blocked off both sides of this two-block haven, making it the perfect spot to vent a little post-concert glee. Each side of the street is home to bars, music shops, live music outlets, blues gift shops, and more. Beale Streeters can purchase a "Big Ass Beer" for a small fare, and everyone is encouraged to walk around sporting their drink of choice.
As you walk down Beale St., you are hit with a blast of culture absent in most cities. Instead of seeing four different Starbucks in a one-block stretch, you see small businesses rich with culture as you hear blues music pour from the windows of the clubs into the streets. Essentially, it is one big party, but something about it makes you feel more refined than walking down the usual stretch of neon-signed bars.
Marc and I drank our beers while carelessly perusing the sights Beale St. had to behold. We saw what Marc referred to as "Bo's," a term for young, Southern gentlemen with top loafers, button-down shirts, and frayed-brim hats. I unknowingly dressed the bill by wearing the style of the South, minus the hat.
Our travels in downtown Memphis didn't last longer than a beer, knowing that we had a long day of travel ahead. In a different time (hopefully a warmer time), I would love to return to this place and participate in the party. Maybe, if the stars aligned, I would get to pick up a guitar inside one of these places and force my own sloppy version of the blues upon this crowd. Pipe dream? Maybe, but I guess future travels will tell. As for the sights, I'll let them speak for themselves.
Beale-ive it or not,
CPS
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