My birthday!

And the SK had brought along my birthday cards! Another local brunch - boldly sitting outside, then off we sped down Highway 40. My passenger took the photo of the parting of the ways (extra). This is what I’ve come to see.
First stop, Jackson, where it was indeed hotter than a peppered sprout. 101°F on the dial. Iced coffee please.
Then into Memphis, and a room with a view up on the 13th floor. Back at street level, a very different vibe from Nashville. With only one night in the place we trotted off to Beale Street. Expectations weren’t high. It had all been swept away in the 70s we’d heard - indeed, as Joni had sung.
Blimey - it was terrific. The music in the bars was sooo good, and there was a complete absence of pissed up party-goers. And we found Charlie Wood’s pavement thingy.
Back to the hotel to "freshen" as is sometimes said and blimey the sky rapidly darkened from out of nowhere. Kaboom! Downpour. After half an hour we scuttled through rain drenched streets to the Flying Fish. Catfish and shrimp combo washed down with a Crosstown Traffic IPA. No greens again! I think I could be missing my five a day.