Sometime in the middle of the night, on the road to Memphis, I decided that I didn’t have the patience to travel by Greyhound. Having no control of where or when I would arrive at a destination started to frustrate me, so I decided I’d re-group for a few days in Memphis over the 4th of July, and then figure out my next course of action.
And hell, Memphis is the perfect place to drift around for a few days. Home of the Blues, Elvis, Eggleston. The minute I stepped off the bus, barely able to keep my eyes open, I knew the trip would take on a different meaning from this point forward. Memphis was a place I wanted to see.











