Date: Wed, 12 Feb 1997 22:26:44 -0500 To:heublein@bellsouth.net, cal@gsbs.uchicago.edu, Danielle_Fuchs@peoplesoft.com, ecb5u@virginia.edu, homunculus@mindspring.com, Rich_Fuchs@peoplesoft.com, SNAFU@CC.MUSIC.UGA.EDU, smw4s@virginia.edu, ryssa@virginia.edu, geof@neuron.nrl.navy.mil, joeboy@VNET.IBM.COM, cbw2c@virginia.edu, weishaupt@aol.com, WeilacherG@lynx.aon.af.mil, brs@s-1.com, fife@s-1.com, abhijit@s-1.com From:fuchs@med.stanford.edu (Michael Fuchs) Subject:Day 1 Fuchs Overland Dispatch, Day 1 Dateline: Memphis TN 2.12.97 Exited west out of Georgia at about 1pm, crossed through Alabama, Mississippi, and Tennessee. Saw such novel places as Birmingham, and Tupelo, birthplace of Elvis. Didn't stop. (Except at one big truck stop, for $40 worth of diesel fuel and a quick 2-handed game of 'Lethal Enforcers II, Gunfighters'. And coffee.) Terrain mostly flat with scrub pines through first part of drive, turning slightly hilly, then slightly swamply in MS, then dark so I couldn't tell. At one point, I entered an area of western Alabama where the density of country radio stations was so high (closely approaching unity, in fact) that I succumbed and listened to some. I heard a country singer recollect sitting on the front porch of "that ole grey house where I was born and raised." He felt his father was slightly disappointed when he asked him, "I understand there's much that I don't know But don't you ever dream of life where the corn don't grow?" His father responded that he was young and so it probably seemed that the world turned very slow around there, and that he might think he can find the answers to all of this where the corn don't grow. However, "Hard times are real There's dusty fields everywhere you go You might change your mind When you find the weeds are high where the corn don't grow" Of course, the narrator did eventually go to the big city, and found that his father was of course correct, and life was hard there as well. Having absorbed this, I was thinking that there might be some real wisdom in country music, and in rural culture in general. That was right when I passed the "Boar's Butt Restaurant". I sped up, and switched to NPR. Total miles travelled: 395.5. Tomorrow: No bike ride through Memphis, as hoped for (the weather's going to suck, 40s w/80% rain). On to Little Rock and beyond. *If you do not wish to receive Fuchs Overland Dispatch, send an email message to this address with the subject, "test - please ignore". Or don't.*
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