Carbon Dating

I’ve been dating professionally for over thirty years.

Before that, a few years of pure amateur dating (yes, the terms "professional" and "amateur" are intended to be provocative). I do, however, think I it would be a fair guess that I’ve been on around 75-100 first dates. Without question, I’ve met many wonderful women and am proud to say that I am still, at minimum, amicable with most I still encounter and even have genuine friendships with many of their husbands. Some dates bloomed into wonderful relationships (and certainly friendships) while others, not so much.

Within this count, I imagine I’ve been on a few dozen blind dates. These are risky propositions – not so much because I would experience the stereotypical clunker, but that she would. And, honestly, I’m certain I’ve played that role from time to time.

This, of course, brings us to another file deeply hidden in the memory banks.

During my blues phase (if Picasso can have a “blue phase” I can refer to my Memphis experience as a “blues phase”), I was introduced to many wonderful women by my friends who thought a thirty-something should be in a relationship (or married) even if he was from the North.

A magnificent pair of friends thought I should meet Suzanne. A couple of phone calls later, we had a general plan for a Sunday afternoon – lunch and an activity I’d plan; and, indeed, that was the rub.

I was still a bit of a Mid-South neophyte, and figuring out an activity that would impress a local was daunting. Graceland wasn’t an option and I didn’t think I dared suggest touring a Civil War battlefield (the closest was Shiloh – where the South held the advantage on Saturday, but the North ultimately was victorious on Sunday – none of my Memphis friends would go on the Sunday tour).

After many suggestions, I went with the Sun Studio tour.

Sun Studio is located at 706 Union Avenue – nestled between downtown and mid-town Memphis. It is arguably the birthplace of rock & roll as Jackie Brenston and his Delta Cats recorded “Rocket 88” in 1951 – the song Sam Phillips called the first rock & roll recording (of course, as Sam owned Sun Studio, his claim isn’t a huge surprise!). Also, blues legends such as BB King, Rufus Thomas, Junior Parker, Little Milton and many others laid down tracks at Sun.

I pick Suzanne up at her home just before noon and we head into mid-town for lunch. She's a beautiful, bright professional and, although she didn't seem to appreciate that I had washed my pickup, she thanked me for opening her door.  I order ribs and a cold beer; she, a side salad and water with lemon. Riveting conversation ranged from place of birth to number of siblings. Things were going astonishingly fair.

We headed west toward downtown and found Sun Studios. Fortunately, even as a local, she hadn’t been there although she drove by it daily on her way to work. Admission was $15 per adult, fine. Just then I wished I had charged lunch. I had $28 and had to borrow $2 from her – nice move Rockefeller!

Once admitted, we had to kill about 20 minutes in the gift shop where we ignored logo-ed shot glasses, and glittering snow globes. At last, the tour started.

For our $30 (well, my $28 and her $2) we were led into a single room – gray acoustical tile lined the walls and ceiling, a dusty drum set was on the west wall and a single old fashioned microphone was on a small stage. In the corner was an oversize reel-to-reel tape machine. Our docent was an acne-splattered teen delivering the history of Sun in a bored rote softened nicely with the local drawl. I also remember it being an oppressively stuffy 80 degrees in there. So far, I’ve orchestrated a catastrophe.

I have by now learned that Elvis sung into the featured microphone and that an impressive list of performers graced this very room. What turned the corner, however, was when our guide flipped the switch on the reel-to-reel and the magic began. On the tape were snippets of sessions featuring Elvis, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins and Jerry Lee Lewis among others. More fun were the outtakes included: Elvis teasing Cash, Perkins fussing with Lewis, and many other incredibly personal and intimate encounters between these and other legends of rock and R&B. For the next 40 minutes, the music and chatter enchanted. . .we were sharing the room with the happy ghosts of these artists. I’ve included a YouTube video that gives a taste of this experience.

The tour was over, I was feeling a true privilege for this experience and excitedly jabbered all the way back to Suzanne’s house. I walked her to her door and we embraced – she said that she was sorry that the tour was such a bore.

What a shame she was such a clunker.





Original illustration from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, drawn by John Tenniel

For more information, see:
http://www.sunstudio.com/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sun_Studio
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rocket_88