St. Louis is baseball crazy. Last Monday, when the Cardinals opened at home against the Houston Astros, productivity levels in the city plummeted. At noon, thousands of fans streamed out from office buildings around the city, loosening their ties and rolling up shirt sleeves, heading to watch the game down at Busch Stadium or to join friends crowded around big screens at the local bars.
They delivered a win that night and again on Wednesday, when my family and I were lucky enough to have been offered seats at the game. It’s already so hot here that we had unearthed our summer clothes weeks ago, including all the Cardinals paraphernalia: red hats, red t-shirts, red flags, red, red, red...! We donned the colours and joined 40,000 other fans to enjoy our strong roster of talent, including a first basemen that is well on his way to becoming legendary.
The Cardinals were due to wrap up their three game series against the Astros on Friday night. That morning, on the way to drop the kids at school, I was tuned into my favourite St. Louis radio station when I heard something that convinced me that this city is CRAZY. Crazy, I’m telling you! The weather guy comes on and says, “You may have noticed that we got some rain last night, but don’t worry; it’s going to clear up for the game tonight.” Then, they were on to the traffic and a couple of songs – the usual morning show line-up. No temperature. No forecast. No storm warnings. No nothing! Weather forecast: baseball!
It’s not just baseball; this city regularly sells out its NHL and NFL games as well. At the beginning of March, when St. Louis hosted the “Arch Madness” Mississippi Valley conference, every seat was filled. Even at my daughter’s volleyball game today, not one parent left. Every one of them spent the entire gruelling day there, camped out on folding chairs, clapping, cheering, and giving the players free tips at the top of their lungs (ugh). I’m telling you; it’s this city! They are sports mad here!
My husband and I attended a fabulous black-tie fundraiser last night: the Bob Kostas event for Cardinal Glennon Children’s Medical Center. During his welcome and introduction and then in between the wickedly funny stand-up performances by Wayne Federman and Jimmy Fallon, Kostas kept the anxious audience updated on the Cardinals progress throughout the entire 20-inning game, which eventually ended in a loss for us! He even invited audience members to shout out score updates if they should happen to be tuned in via i-Phone or Blackberry devices! Good thing the game ended before Jennifer Hudson sang! What a night!
Tonight, we played out of town against the Mets, so the weather forecasts were back to normal. I heard the usual dawn temperatures and precipitation predictions, followed by the expected high of the day and any other meteorologically important fact that we needed to know. After the Friday forecast, it seemed so ordinary, so boring. I can’t wait ‘til the Cards play at home again!
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
A preacher, a carpenter and a king
We are determined to take advantage of our posting in St. Louis to get to know the United States better. We are planning to travel to as many states as we can while living here to broaden our understanding of this great country and to see its many natural wonders.
Although Canadians learn American history and geography in school, first-hand experience is so much more relevant. For example, when we first arrived, I was desperate to stand on the shore of the Mississippi River, to see for myself that it really existed and was not just a figment of Mark Twain’s imagination. I had heard of Lincoln – I mean, who hasn’t? – but, he became living history to me once I had visited his home and museum in Springfield, Illinois.
This past Easter weekend, we drove down to Memphis, Tennessee for no other reason than to see it. It is a good four-hour drive south of St. Louis. We didn’t have a guide book and, quite honestly, had nothing but the hotel and a Friday night basketball game pre-booked. But, we all love history and I love Elvis, so we roughed out some plans to see the Civil Rights Museum on Saturday and to visit Graceland on Sunday, after Easter services.
Nothing could have prepared me for the museum, located at the Lorraine Motel, where a very determined, charismatic, and well-spoken preacher named Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. was gunned down on April 4th 1968, one day later and forty-two years earlier than our April 3rd pilgrimage to the memorial. He was 39 years old. In his short life, he had been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, led national organizations, boycotts and marches against injustices for Negro Americans and fought for civil rights everywhere. He had been arrested, beaten, and abused multiple times. This amazing museum tells the story of the civil rights movement from the time of the first immigrants and colonies in America, through the Civil War and its ensuing years, especially during the civil rights movements of the 50s and 60s. The museum is full of photos, artefacts and newspaper clippings, as well as sobering black-and-white film footage of lynchings, burnings, and beatings.
On Sunday, we attended Easter services at the beautiful St. Peter’s Church in downtown Memphis. The church dates back to the mid-1800s and is one of the oldest buildings in Memphis today. In addition to fabulous artwork, statues and light fixtures, the church’s windows shine with vibrant stained glass, including several panels constructed in Germany and installed in the early 1900s. The windows depict what are known as the Joyful and the Glorious mysteries, the latter of which includes fundamentals of the Christian faith, especially as it differs from other religions. In particular, one window tells the story of Easter: Jesus, known also as God, appeared on Earth as a man – the son of a carpenter – and was resurrected after his death.
After a lovely breakfast, we joined a tour going to Graceland, the home and final resting place of a singing and movie sensation known as the king of rock ‘n roll: Elvis Presley. It was his home for over twenty years. His young wife and baby girl lived there with him, as did his parents. His doors were always open to friends and family and, according to personal accounts, there were always people around enjoying Elvis’ effervescent and creative spirit. But, it is a sad place. It is a tribute to a man who died young, at only 42 years of age. The museum rooms are jammed with tributes, awards, plaques, photos, movie posters, old cheque stubs and innocuous telegrams. His music plays and many of the visitors sing along or tap their toes to the catchy tunes.
As we got back in the car to return to St. Louis, the whole family agreed that we’d had a lovely time (including the ribs at Rendezvous and the duck parade at The Peabody Hotel!). Though we had not expressly planned to do so, we felt that we’d stepped back in time on several occasions during the weekend. I think Memphis does that to you. There, history simmers just below the new veneer of a revitalised downtown, seeping out like a vapour, showing itself in the cobblestones that peek from under broken cement on Beale Street and in the Mississippi mud bricks of the old warehouses. It was the perfect place to re-live history; to consider the lives of a preacher, a carpenter, and a king.
Although Canadians learn American history and geography in school, first-hand experience is so much more relevant. For example, when we first arrived, I was desperate to stand on the shore of the Mississippi River, to see for myself that it really existed and was not just a figment of Mark Twain’s imagination. I had heard of Lincoln – I mean, who hasn’t? – but, he became living history to me once I had visited his home and museum in Springfield, Illinois.
This past Easter weekend, we drove down to Memphis, Tennessee for no other reason than to see it. It is a good four-hour drive south of St. Louis. We didn’t have a guide book and, quite honestly, had nothing but the hotel and a Friday night basketball game pre-booked. But, we all love history and I love Elvis, so we roughed out some plans to see the Civil Rights Museum on Saturday and to visit Graceland on Sunday, after Easter services.
Nothing could have prepared me for the museum, located at the Lorraine Motel, where a very determined, charismatic, and well-spoken preacher named Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. was gunned down on April 4th 1968, one day later and forty-two years earlier than our April 3rd pilgrimage to the memorial. He was 39 years old. In his short life, he had been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, led national organizations, boycotts and marches against injustices for Negro Americans and fought for civil rights everywhere. He had been arrested, beaten, and abused multiple times. This amazing museum tells the story of the civil rights movement from the time of the first immigrants and colonies in America, through the Civil War and its ensuing years, especially during the civil rights movements of the 50s and 60s. The museum is full of photos, artefacts and newspaper clippings, as well as sobering black-and-white film footage of lynchings, burnings, and beatings.
On Sunday, we attended Easter services at the beautiful St. Peter’s Church in downtown Memphis. The church dates back to the mid-1800s and is one of the oldest buildings in Memphis today. In addition to fabulous artwork, statues and light fixtures, the church’s windows shine with vibrant stained glass, including several panels constructed in Germany and installed in the early 1900s. The windows depict what are known as the Joyful and the Glorious mysteries, the latter of which includes fundamentals of the Christian faith, especially as it differs from other religions. In particular, one window tells the story of Easter: Jesus, known also as God, appeared on Earth as a man – the son of a carpenter – and was resurrected after his death.
After a lovely breakfast, we joined a tour going to Graceland, the home and final resting place of a singing and movie sensation known as the king of rock ‘n roll: Elvis Presley. It was his home for over twenty years. His young wife and baby girl lived there with him, as did his parents. His doors were always open to friends and family and, according to personal accounts, there were always people around enjoying Elvis’ effervescent and creative spirit. But, it is a sad place. It is a tribute to a man who died young, at only 42 years of age. The museum rooms are jammed with tributes, awards, plaques, photos, movie posters, old cheque stubs and innocuous telegrams. His music plays and many of the visitors sing along or tap their toes to the catchy tunes.
As we got back in the car to return to St. Louis, the whole family agreed that we’d had a lovely time (including the ribs at Rendezvous and the duck parade at The Peabody Hotel!). Though we had not expressly planned to do so, we felt that we’d stepped back in time on several occasions during the weekend. I think Memphis does that to you. There, history simmers just below the new veneer of a revitalised downtown, seeping out like a vapour, showing itself in the cobblestones that peek from under broken cement on Beale Street and in the Mississippi mud bricks of the old warehouses. It was the perfect place to re-live history; to consider the lives of a preacher, a carpenter, and a king.
Wish you were here.
April 2010
Dear Kelly,
We’re on a tour of Graceland, near Memphis, in Tennessee. I have been thinking of you the whole time I have been here seeing Elvis’ house and reliving his songs and films at the various museums that showcase all of his awards, movie posters, records and other memorabilia. You would love it here. I wish you were here!
Do you remember that summer when we were around twelve or thirteen years old, when we spent one entire week in August on the anniversary of his passing, glued to the TV, watching rerun after rerun of every Elvis film ever made? Even now, when I see an Elvis movie advertised or hear an old recording of one of his songs, I think back to that great summer, before we had jobs, when it was okay to have absolutely nothing to do.
Remember how corny those movies were? Remember how Elvis always played the poor “hard-done-by” boy? He was uncommonly handsome and we were in love! In the movies, do you recall how he always succeeded despite some major adversity and how he always won the love of the scantily-clad, beautiful leading lady? We’d be pie-eyed from watching back-to-back movies during the long, hot summer days when Mom was at work. Where was Kevin? I think that was the summer he went to sailing camp but, if not, I don’t remember what he did while we hogged the TV all day, do you?
We’d study the TV guide, looking ahead to see what movies were coming up, circling our favourites, so we wouldn’t miss them for sure. I’m always trying to explain to the kids how there were no DVDs in those days, so you could only watch a show on TV when it was scheduled to be shown. It was even before VCR machines, so you couldn’t tape a show and watch it later. Do you remember that time I wanted to watch The Unsinkable Molly Brown, which aired at two in the morning? My crying, when it concluded at half past four woke up Mom, who thought something horrible had happened!
That’s what it was like, though, right? I mean, you just had to watch a show when it was being shown, no matter what time of day or night. So, that’s why the anniversary of Elvis’ passing was sad but also kind of fun: they showed three or four Elvis movies a day for a whole week! Had he lived, he would have been about three times our age that summer, when we stretched out on the carpet, plumped up on the sofa pillows, and got lost in his silly movies! But the beauty of those pictures is that they captured The King at his prime, when his body was still lithe, his skin clear, his eyes seductive and his hair black as night.
Graceland is a wonderful showcase for Elvis’ remarkable recording, acting and touring career. But, it is bittersweet because everywhere you are reminded that his life was cut short. There are no pictures of him as a middle-aged man, nor as an old man, as he would be now. There are no pictures of him attending his daughter’s graduation or walking her down the aisle when she got married. His hair didn’t go grey and he didn’t need glasses. He’s captured in time as a young man. His stories are finite, like yours. They just ended suddenly one day. It’s like a book whose final chapters were ripped out and thrown away. You just never know how it might have ended. I sure wish you were here.
Signed,
Your loving sister
Dear Kelly,
We’re on a tour of Graceland, near Memphis, in Tennessee. I have been thinking of you the whole time I have been here seeing Elvis’ house and reliving his songs and films at the various museums that showcase all of his awards, movie posters, records and other memorabilia. You would love it here. I wish you were here!
Do you remember that summer when we were around twelve or thirteen years old, when we spent one entire week in August on the anniversary of his passing, glued to the TV, watching rerun after rerun of every Elvis film ever made? Even now, when I see an Elvis movie advertised or hear an old recording of one of his songs, I think back to that great summer, before we had jobs, when it was okay to have absolutely nothing to do.
Remember how corny those movies were? Remember how Elvis always played the poor “hard-done-by” boy? He was uncommonly handsome and we were in love! In the movies, do you recall how he always succeeded despite some major adversity and how he always won the love of the scantily-clad, beautiful leading lady? We’d be pie-eyed from watching back-to-back movies during the long, hot summer days when Mom was at work. Where was Kevin? I think that was the summer he went to sailing camp but, if not, I don’t remember what he did while we hogged the TV all day, do you?
We’d study the TV guide, looking ahead to see what movies were coming up, circling our favourites, so we wouldn’t miss them for sure. I’m always trying to explain to the kids how there were no DVDs in those days, so you could only watch a show on TV when it was scheduled to be shown. It was even before VCR machines, so you couldn’t tape a show and watch it later. Do you remember that time I wanted to watch The Unsinkable Molly Brown, which aired at two in the morning? My crying, when it concluded at half past four woke up Mom, who thought something horrible had happened!
That’s what it was like, though, right? I mean, you just had to watch a show when it was being shown, no matter what time of day or night. So, that’s why the anniversary of Elvis’ passing was sad but also kind of fun: they showed three or four Elvis movies a day for a whole week! Had he lived, he would have been about three times our age that summer, when we stretched out on the carpet, plumped up on the sofa pillows, and got lost in his silly movies! But the beauty of those pictures is that they captured The King at his prime, when his body was still lithe, his skin clear, his eyes seductive and his hair black as night.
Graceland is a wonderful showcase for Elvis’ remarkable recording, acting and touring career. But, it is bittersweet because everywhere you are reminded that his life was cut short. There are no pictures of him as a middle-aged man, nor as an old man, as he would be now. There are no pictures of him attending his daughter’s graduation or walking her down the aisle when she got married. His hair didn’t go grey and he didn’t need glasses. He’s captured in time as a young man. His stories are finite, like yours. They just ended suddenly one day. It’s like a book whose final chapters were ripped out and thrown away. You just never know how it might have ended. I sure wish you were here.
Signed,
Your loving sister
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