Tuesday 3/11

Location: Gatlinburg to Meridian, MS by way of Chattanooga and Birmingham
Weather: Sunny, low 60s
Music: Pigeon John - …And the Summertime Pool Party, Peeping Tom – Peeping Tom, Radiohead – In Rainbows, Sunny Day Real Estate – The Rising Tide, The Shins – Chutes Too Narrow, Porcupine Tree – Stupid Dream, Beck – Guero, Deeper Shades of House

One ongoing traveling dilemma is how to deal with things that are “touristy”. One instinct, easily drawn from having grown up in a summer resort, is “touristy things are bad! You pay too much and/or miss out on the real essence of a place!” Another, sometimes stronger, is “Um, you ARE a tourist, and it’s laughable to try to pretend otherwise. Some of your favorite things to do back home are very touristy; would you tell people not to go to the beach or walk the Marginal Way?” The feeling of irony that comes from doing some touristy things is kind of like what comes from the institution of attending parties and other ritualistic behavior…but too much irony without accompanying flirting can get awkward real fast. There’s one easy mantra out of this, but it’s hard to just trust to instincts when Parent says you simply must see this or Good Friend strongly suggests that and there’s just that general pressure to get the most out of a vacation. As usual, ignorance ends up being pretty darn blissful.

Wait, all that about where we went for breakfast? Maybe the mantra should be “don’t take things too seriously.” Nervous laughter…

Anyway, we ended up at the Flapjack’s Pancake Cabin across from our trusty lavender Super 8 for breakfast, not fully aware that it was actually a chain. There’s no moral here; the pancakes were good, my omelet was pretty tasty, Alex thought it was a little pricey, AND IT WAS JUST BREAKFAST. WHY ARE YOU STILL TALKING ABOUT THIS?

150 miles later, we were at the International Towing and Recovery Hall of Fame and Museum. This was an easy one—irony galore and legitimate interest! Learning about offbeat stuff is fun, but what’s really great is getting insight into why people really care about things. I’m certainly not ashamed of not having anything in my life that I care about enough to develop a museum around, but it sure is great that other people do.

We barely paused to glance at the names and photographs of the members of the Hall of Fame, but the short clip of “average Joe tower” talking about how the Hall is “something to aspire towards” during the introductory video really stuck with me. OK, yes, it’s funny that there’s a tow truck hall of fame. But, again, what hall of fame do you get to shoot for? Oh, you’re trying to save the world—who needs halls of fame? Fine, fine, fine…

All that aside, it was fun to see one wrecker with a grille as tall as me and another that went 107 MPH while reading the stories of the people who drove them. Ignoring any analysis of what it means for people to care enough about recovery to compile large collections of toy tow trucks, they were still neat to look at. We left with a t-shirt each and I now finally own a shot glass. Ironic, sure, but also just cool.

Everyone’s less flustered when Alex drives and I look at maps, but we were reversed heading into Birmingham and had a mild adventure before pulling into a 25 cents / hour metered spot. Even cheaper than Portsmouth, NH! Well I’ll be. I had a higher opinion of Birmingham than Alex—I focused on the nice architecture, attractive park, and general safe feeling while he very reasonably pointed out that a number of buildings were for rent and we only saw one part of town, but I’d say we both had our expectations bettered.

We spent a couple of sober hours at the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute. I thought back to Urooj saying how much “minorities” appreciate when white males come to cultural events, but also that they tend to count how many show up. There was no reason to feel that at the Institute since it’s a well-known and recognized “tourist destination” beyond just being an interesting place to go. Still, whether due to the high concentration of Blacks in the city streets and institute staff, my general unfamiliarity with the south and artificially low expectations of it coming in, or to uncertainty as to my role in society, I had a hard time getting comfortable. Of course, maybe that’s what’s supposed to happen. In high school, the complete lack of diversity didn’t seem like a big deal but now I’m left still trying to catch up.

I kept thinking about what to say if someone asked “What are you learning here?” and couldn’t come up with anything beyond blurting out something trite “Wow, they really went through a lot!” or artificially subdued. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned at four years at Swarthmore,” I thought, “it’s that some of the things that I thought were over really aren’t over after all. And then there’s the politics of a city like Birmingham—how does the past affect what leaders do to publicly acknowledge civil rights struggles today? Since it was a great experience; let’s focus not on this but on the remarkable primary sources, generally flowing narrative of exhibits, and friendly staff.

All of the area eateries seemed to be lunch only, but eventually we found a Quizno’s in the storm and left feeling great. I had been dying to see Vulcan Park, home of the world’s largest statue, great views of the city, and a “celebration of Birmingham’s past, present, and hope for the future” or something or another, and not surprisingly it was somewhat underwhelming. It wasn’t the offbeat, somewhat quirky place I’d hoped for but instead fronted by a massive parking lot and playing host to at least one giant, well-dressed group. After viewing Vulcan from afar, we both were immediately turned off by the $3 admission fee; it’s good to share obsessions.

Along the way, we realized that we’d get more time in New Orleans if we knocked some drive off tonight, so after consulting the map we set out for Meridian, MS. Two hours and one smoky Chevron later, we pulled into a Motel 6 on Frontage Road, where Alex once again did all the talking above the loud roar of an ice machine while I tried to disappear. Sometime, I really need to stop being a loser…our room was new and attractive, and after watching some Office, I couldn’t even make it through ten pages before falling asleep.