Clap. Lurch. Testify. Repeat.

[robotnik2004]

Originally published at Route 96. You can comment here or there.

When the excitement of standing in an sweltering parking lot looking at a big featureless triangle began to pale, we shuffled off towards Beale Street, helpfully designated by the Tennessee State Legislature as the Official Home of the Blues.

En route we passed a black Baptist church that was having some kind of outdoor gospel concert thing. Wow. The whole congregation was clapping, lurching, and testifying, and with good reason. The band rocked, as did their threads, and the singers were just going crazy–howling, yowling, falling down and jumping up again, basically kicking Satan’s horny red ass. Powerful stuff for three white secular humanists from suburban Ontario.

After hitting Beale Street for cold beer, hot gumbo, and official Tennessee State Legislature approved Grade A blues, we quite literally rode off into the sunset, Jenkin hauling us across the mighty Mississippi into Arkansas just as the blazing sun went down.