Categories
Politics Politics Feature

‘Keeping Ourselves Safe’: A Q&A with Michelle Taylor

Dr. Michelle Taylor was nominated last week by County Mayor Lee Harris to be Shelby County’s new Health Department director. Pending a favorable vote from the Shelby County Commission, she will succeed longtime director Dr. Alisa Haushalter and interim director Dr. LaSonya Harris Hall. Here she discusses taking the reins.

Memphis Flyer: Obviously, you’re taking over at a very strategic time when the pressure from the state government is overwhelming. 

Michelle Taylor: But we are more independent than some of the more rural county health departments that are under the state health department umbrella. I believe that Shelby County Health Department has already put out a statement that we intend to continue to push vaccines, in the safety of vaccines, and the importance of vaccines to our county residents and their families. So there’s no pressure to follow the state model. And that’s the nice thing about being a metro health department — we can set our own tone about how we want to message to the population here in Shelby County. We’ll let the state take care of the state, but we’re going to continue to practice good public health, which we’ve been doing for a long time.

What do you recommend about continuing to wear masks?

I like to use myself as an example. When you see me wearing a mask, it doesn’t mean that I haven’t been vaccinated. It doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m immuno-compromised. I wear a mask because I have a daughter who is seven and doesn’t have the opportunity to be vaccinated. And if I am exposed to someone who may have COVID, I don’t want to take the chance of bringing that home. So I mask whether I’m going to the store, whether I’m coming into the county building, when I go to the restroom. I wear my mask. But do I still go out to restaurants? Yes. Do I still go out to walk with my mom? Yes. But every encounter is an opportunity for me to possibly bring something back to my daughter, and so I have to deal with the risk of that. And I wear my mask appropriately, thinking about that. That is a personal decision right now. So you may decide to take a different approach. But for me, in my family, I feel like my approach works best.

But it seems clear to me that if you’re not going to be vaccinated, at least you should wear a mask, right?

I believe so. And that’s what the CDC says. 

Why is there so much resistance to the idea of taking the vaccine?

Well, I will tell you that, you know, even when I was training at East Tennessee State, we had parents that came in that didn’t believe in vaccines. This is not a new issue. This is not new for people. A segment of the population believes that you shouldn’t be taking vaccines. I could go through a week in clinic and have at least one or two sets of parents come in and say, “Well, we’re coming in for a checkup. We’re not coming in for any shots.” So this is not new. I think that with many things, the presence of COVID-19 has magnified what we see but what some people were calling an antivax movement. You know, there are some people who just don’t believe in vaccinations, there are people who don’t believe in all kinds of modern advances in medicine. That’s not a new thing.

Is there any likelihood that the Delta variant can build to the proportions that we had last year?

Well, I hope not, but the Delta variant is very much with us, and it’s very much a risk. And what we can see from the numbers right now is that most of the people who are being hospitalized with COVID, right now, more than likely have the Delta variant, and more than likely have not been vaccinated. And so I think what is going to be important to do, from the health department standpoint, is to make sure that we are messaging what the risks are to the community, so that folks can make decisions about how best to protect themselves, their families, and the community at large.

How important in the chain of  possible infection are teenagers as a group?

Oh, wow. That’s a great question. So teenagers, as we know, are very social human beings. So it is good that the FDA has approved kids 12 and up to be able to get COVID vaccinations, in consultation with their families, if they feel like that’s the right choice for their families. But we know that teenagers, speaking as a pediatrician, tend to their bodies, and their immunities start to act more like adults than children. So at the beginning of COVID, we knew that children were less likely to become infected. And when they did become infected, they were less likely to have severe symptoms. But now that we know COVID has mutated, that maybe that landscape may be changing a bit. And so we really do need to know what’s going on in our teenagers going forward. I do think that that’s going to be important to know what the landscape with COVID is going to look like going forward.

You’re aware of the the campaigns were directed against vaccine chief Dr. Michelle Fiscus, who, of course, lost her job, and state Health Commissioner Dr. Lisa Piercey, for that matter, who’s under a great deal of pressure. Can you foresee that kind of pressure being directed at you?

I cannot foresee that. But I would say that if you interviewed public health professionals across the country, and really across the world, none of them foresaw what we have seen with COVID-19. So if it comes, it comes. it’s not something that would deter me from wanting to step into this role. In fact, that motivates me.

How important a factor in the current state of things is politics ?

Well, politics is quite important. Right now, we know that we’ve seen that over the last 12 to 15 months. A lot of the debate about whether to get vaccinated or not get vaccinated has been driven by politics. But we also know that at the end of the day, for most people, most families, most communities want to be safe. And they’re trying to figure out the best way to be safe, given what they see on the news, given what they see is happening in their own families. So yes, politics plays a part. But I believe that it doesn’t have to be the whole ballgame if we message the people how to protect themselves.

You know, we’ve had enough folks finger pointing. Now let’s get back to some civil conversations about things that we have in common — like how to keep ourselves safe. You know, I tend to look at a community as really a mixed bag of folks. So whether you’re talking about, you know, right versus left, conservative versus progressive, however, you want to turn the population once again, at the end of the day, everybody within the community most of the time, down to a person is really trying to figure out how to keep themselves safe, how to keep their family safe, how to be safe when they go to work. How to be safe when they go to pray, how to be safe when they go out to play. And we have people in this community who like to do that. So no matter what their ideology is, or any contradictions that you may see, that folks may perceive in an ideology, that’s the bottom line. Public health works best when people don’t even know that it’s happening.

I believe most of the people in this community in Shelby County want to get back to that, no matter what their ideology is.

Categories
Letter From The Editor Opinion

Shouting Fire, Playing Telephone

Last week, the Flyer editorial staff had our regular Wednesday meeting in the office. We crowded around the big table in the “fishbowl” (so called because of its glass wall) conference room and dared to breathe the same air. In person! I don’t typically use exclamation points, but I feel the previous sentence warrants some excitement.

Michael Donahue, our inimitable food and party writer, author of the popular “We Saw You” column, made the mistake of saying he would see everyone at next week’s meeting — on Tuesday. I corrected him, but he somehow planted that little bit of misinformation in everyone’s brain, where it took root and bore poisoned fruit.

Why would we meet on Tuesday morning — before the issue has gone to press? It makes no logical sense and flies in the face of a Flyer editorial tradition that long predates my time with this estimable publication. Nonetheless, a third of the staff remembered and seemed to take as gospel Donahue’s slip of the tongue.

I spent the last week fielding emails, texts, and in-person(!) questions about our untimely Tuesday meeting.

My intention here isn’t to tease my editorial staff — well, not only to tease them — but to point out in practice something that has been clearly demonstrated in studies. Gossip, rumors, and misinformation travel much faster than proven fact.

After an analysis of 126,000 rumors spread on Twitter over a period of 11 years, a 2018 study by researchers from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology found that false news travels more quickly and reaches more people than true news. Rumors and false news were found to be 70 percent more likely to be retweeted and reached people up to six times faster than actual news. Of course, this study is limited to stories spread on Twitter, but what is the bird app if not society’s rumor mill?

Of course, I am once again referring to the propagation of vaccine-related misinformation online. (I don’t want to talk about it anymore, folks, but for the moment it seems to be one of the more immediate dangers disproportionately affecting our region. We’re a hot spot again, one of the top five states for increases in case counts.) But I’m not just thinking of vaccine and coronavirus misinformation.

There’s also the Big Lie, the belief that the most recent presidential election was stolen, and all of the dozens of smaller lies it’s spawned. There’s a crisis at the southern border. President Joe Biden will soon give the signal to the Chinese army (currently hidden in Canada) to invade. Or, as Senator Marsha Blackburn tweeted on Monday, President Biden is using his political power to silence his opponents. Well, Marsha, he’s doing a downright terrible job of it if that tweet is still up. All of this — these flurries of fearmongering tweets and email blasts and news spots, the needless trips to inspect the troops at the border, this grandstanding — serves only to distract from real issues affecting real people. Our neighbors and friends and family and coworkers aren’t being served by trips to the border between Texas and Mexico. I’m much more concerned with the bridge that spans the border between Tennessee and Arkansas, thank you. Or with the way certain county borderlines seem to demarkate a dramatic difference in vaccination levels.

Disinformation is deadly. I’m not up in arms about a difference of opinion, but spreading patently false information for political credit is another thing entirely. “Almost all the patients that get admitted to the hospital and admitted to me in the intensive care unit are unvaccinated patients,” Dr. Todd Rice, the director of Vanderbilt University Medical Center’s COVID-19 unit, told Nashville’s WKRN last week.

I wish we could get past all this. It’s like we have our own 21st century version of Vichy France, with outposts in most communities in every state, remotely governed from Mar-a-Lago. (And yes, I am aware of all the xenophobic, authoritarian, and Nazi-collaborator connotations of my reference to Vichy France. Can you honestly say it doesn’t fit?)

Look, there are no Chinese troops stationed in Canada waiting on an order from an American president to give them the signal to invade and subjugate Tennesseans. The level of coordination that would take is, put simply, beyond the realm of possibility. If anyone is that put together, it flies in the face of the evidence of every meeting I’ve ever tried to schedule.

See you next Wednesday.

Categories
News The Fly-By

MEMernet: Flyer Meta, Two Cities, and “Corporate Memphis”

A roundup of Memphis on the World Wide Web.

This Checks Out

Posted to Twitter by @madmolecule

Two Cities

Posted to Twitter by @Jak46Judith

What’s In a name?

Posted to Twitter by @EvanCollins90

True fans of Memphiana will know the 1980s “Memphis Group” (of Italian designers and architects) launched a new design style of cartoony-looking furniture, fabrics, lighting, and more. It was named “Memphis” for Bob Dylan’s “Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again.”

The style reemerged recently in illustrations of large, cartoony-looking people, now referred to as “Corporate Memphis” and widely used by companies. Design expert Evan Collins explained why the name may be misplaced in a long thread on Twitter.

Categories
Cover Feature Food & Drink News

Burger Bonanza: Celebrating Burger Week with 10 Bluff City Burgers

Everybody loves Burger Week. At least, everyone on the Flyer editorial team certainly seems downright hungry to devour a burger (and write about the experience) for this annual cover story.

And why shouldn’t they be? Hamburgers are the black T-shirt of American cuisine — they go with almost everything. Whatever your palate, you can dress them up or down to your taste, even eschewing the meat if that’s what floats your burger boat (and as 20 percent of this story’s samplings do). This roundup of 10 Bluff City burgers runs the gamut, from the classic to the most gourmet of garnishes.

Whet your appetite with these helpings of hamburger, and then see page 17 for a full list of the Burger Week specials available around town. In the meantime, if, like Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention, you find yourself “Cruisin’ for Burgers,” we hope this list will be your burgerific guide.

The Bishop Burger at Bishop
Bishop, inside Central Station Hotel at 545 South Main, feels both familiar and otherworldly: You’re in the heart of historic Memphis, but with a French twist. A light Eurodisco take on Françoise Hardy’s “Le Temps De L’Amour” echoes through the room when the burger enters, buttered brioche buns gleaming, a steak knife plunged into the center, and all else is forgotten. Much care has gone into this creation, which some food-savvy friends have dubbed the best burger in town.

The double patties are made with beef from Evans Farms, blended with filet and short rib trimmings, topped with cheddar cheese and “all natural, humane” bacon from Niman Ranch. And then there are the enhancements: a B1 sauce, “a play on A1 sauce,” essentially a red wine and butter demi-glace incorporating more bits of filet, and a tomato aioli. The latter is made with tomatoes fermented for several days in the Bishop kitchen, adding a subtle tartness to the profile.

If you opt for pommes frites, try them with the garlic and dijon aioli, which takes the French penchant for mayonnaise with fries and throws a mustardy bite into the proceedings. Merveilleuse! — Alex Greene

Bishop, 545 S. Main Street #111

Steakhouse Burger at RP Tracks (Photo: Shara Clark)

Steakhouse Burger at RP Tracks
“Proud loser of the Best Burger in Memphis award for what, 30 years now?” That’s the text on an advertisement RP Tracks ran in this publication a few months back, poking fun at the fact that they’ve never made it to the top in the Flyer’s Best of Memphis “Best Burger” category. That may well be true, but their burgers are the business.

The standard RP Burger is a good go-to if you’re looking for a classic (8-oz. Angus patty and your choice of cheese, alongside a setup of lettuce, tomato, onion, and pickles), but don’t stop there. The bacon cheddar and jalapeño burgers are both solid choices, but — being a fungi fanatic — I opt for the steakhouse. A thick, juicy beef patty is topped with grilled red onions and mushrooms, covered with melted Gouda shreds, and sandwiched in a potato bun. You can add the fixings to it, if you’d like, but with or without the extras, you’re gonna need to take a tip from Guy Fieri and do “the Hunch” — cradle it from underneath to hold it all together, tilt your head to the side, and open wide to get all that goodness in one bite. Any of Tracks’ burgers can be made with a Beyond Burger veggie patty, and they’re served with hand-cut fries. I go for the tots because that’s how I roll. — Shara Clark

RP Tracks, 3547 Walker Avenue

The Fye Junt at Plant Based Heat (Photo: Samuel X. Cicci)

The Fye Junt at Plant Based Heat
It’s fire, fire, everywhere with one of Plant Based Heat’s signature burgers. The new vegan restaurant by Ralph Johnson brings in all the traditional flavors of Southern cooking, just without the meat. For burger time, I emerged slightly singed, but none the worse for wear, after diving into the Fye Junt burger.

The Beyond Meat patty is simply the canvas for the firestorm to come. Jalapeño peppers? Check. Vegan pepper jack cheese and spicy mayo? Absolutely. But instead of a simply overwhelming heat wave, PBH’s secret sauce, coupled with Memphis Sweet Heat BBQ sauce, brings the spice back down to a manageable level just before things get out of hand. For good measure, toss in fresh spinach, tomato, and caramelized onions.

The Fye Junt fresh off the grill sure feels like messy and greasy goodness, with a texture akin to biting into a regular ol’ beef patty. Even if you’re a devout carnivore, like me, the Fye Junt will satisfy, I promise. Just maybe make sure there’s a glass of water nearby. For it’s all in the name: The Fye Junt truly brings plant-based heat. — Samuel X. Cicci

Plant Based Heat, 669 S. Highland Street

Ostrich Burger at Off the Hoof (Photo: Julie Ray)

Ostrich Burger at Off the Hoof
I’d heard about two great places for a burger in Arlington — Off the Hoof and Slingshot Charlie’s. I planned to try both and the best burger would get a write-up. By default Off the Hoof won the competition. Slingshot Charlie’s was shuttered for the week so that the owner and staff could celebrate the Fourth of July. Don’t fret, Charlie should be slinging shots by the time you read this.

At Off the Hoof, I had planned to have the $5 house burger. But then I saw the “Big Game” menu. I had to go there. It boasted buffalo, elk, wild boar, ostrich, and venison burgers. I was informed that fresh ostrich meat was shipped in on Tuesdays and Fridays. This tasty trek was on a Friday. Score.

I made a mistake. It tasted like beef. I expected more. There were some interesting sides ordered — Frito Pie (Fritos corn chips, chili, and cheese) and Freta Fries (hand-cut battered fries with feta cheese and buffalo sauce).

I wish I’d tried the $5 burger. The place was full of regulars. You don’t get regulars with a $19 ostrich burger that tastes like beef. Google informed me that ostrich was a lot healthier than beef and an ostrich looks like Big Bird.

My apologies to Sesame Street, but I took that as a win. — Julie Ray

Off the Hoof, 12013 US-70, Arlington, Tennessee

Mr. Good Burger at Roxie’s Grocery (Photo: Chris McCoy)

Mr. Good Burger at Roxie’s Grocery
“I hope you don’t have any work to do this afternoon.”

I’m standing next to Daris Leatherwood, chef and owner of the Sum Light Bistro food truck. We’re in line at Roxie’s Grocery, waiting for our orders. The cooks are presiding over a full griddle. It’s lunchtime, and we’re behind a big order destined for workers at nearby St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. Roxie’s is an Uptown landmark, the kind of place where you take time to talk to your neighbors. Leatherwood’s been telling me about launching his food truck when he asks what I ordered. I’m getting the Mr. Good Burger, the H-bomb of the Bluff City burger scene. I tell him I’ve got to write about it once I’ve eaten it. “You’re gonna have to take a nap,” he says.

The Mr. Good Burger comes wrapped in a foil package that’s bigger than both my fists — and I’m a bass player with long fingers. It’s a double bacon cheeseburger with all the trimmings, but that generic description doesn’t convey the sheer magnitude of this classic. The four strips of super-thick bacon are bent double and inserted between the patties. I have to unhinge my jaw to take the first bite and blast off to carnivore heaven. They call it “Mr. Good Burger” for a reason. This is the Platonic ideal of the two-patty griddle burger, a mixed-meat masterpiece.

Now I’ve got to lay down. The things I do for journalism … — Chris McCoy

Roxie’s Grocery, 520 N. 3rd Street

The Bshop Wagyu Burger at the Beauty Shop (Photo: Jon W. sparks)

The Bshop Wagyu Burger at the Beauty Shop

My burger of choice, the Bshop Wagyu Burger at the Beauty Shop, is daunting, understandably pricey, and a thing of wonder. The $12 delight comes with a tasty special sauce, lettuce, tomato, cheese, pickles, and onions. I ordered bacon, avocado, and mushrooms on top of that (75 cents each) because I could. Cheeses available are American (my choice), cheddar, pimento cheese, provolone, and gruyère. And you can get an egg in the mix for another buck.

Once you’ve outfitted it, you’ll find it difficult to deploy in the traditional way. There is a top and bottom torta roll, but everything in the middle makes it difficult to chomp without dislocating a jaw, so you may want to have utensils at the ready. Still, going at the mushrooms with fingers or the avocado with a fork doesn’t diminish the pleasure in the slightest. The beef is sublime and the veggies are yummy. It is fairly typical of what you get at the Beauty Shop — or any of Karen Carrier’s eateries — in bringing forth the freshest ingredients and splendidly prepared dishes. — Jon W. Sparks

The Beauty Shop, 966 S. Cooper Street

Firecracker Burger at Clancy’s Cafe (Photo: Michael Donahue)

Firecracker Burger at Clancy’s Cafe

I can’t resist saying the Firecracker Burger at Clancy’s Cafe bursts with flavor. But it really does. It’s delicious.

But I won’t say “explode” because it’s not one of those so-hot-it’s-inedible food items.

“It is two 8-ounce patties, ground beef, that’s stuffed with our homemade pimento cheese and pickled jalapeños,” says Tyler Clancy, owner of the Red Banks, Mississippi restaurant.

“And then we fry the burger, of course. It’s on a toasted sourdough bun with our hand-breaded onion rings. The onion rings are on the burger. And then we do our in-house queso cheese dip on all of it.”

The burger is just one of those things that was so good it stayed around. “This was like a Fourth of July special probably five, six years ago. It had great success. People really liked it. It eventually made its way on the menu.”

And, again, this isn’t some fiery burger that will make you run for water. “I would just describe it as more of a mild to medium heat. The jalapeños aren’t very hot. So it’s more of a spiciness than it is a real tongue-burner.” — Michael Donahue

Clancy’s Cafe, Hwy. 178 West, Red Banks, Mississippi

Chipotle Black Bean Burger at Evelyn & Olive (Photo: Abigail Morici)

Chipotle Black Bean Burger at Evelyn & Olive
As a Catholic, I’ve made my fair share of mandatory confessions, but this is, perhaps, my most embarrassing one yet: I tried my first burger in 2019, not as a curious toddler but as a semi-functioning 20-year-old picky-eater. It was a veggie burger on a certain local college campus, where my options were limited, my standards sinking, my expectations low, and, man, that burger was sinfully bad. Thankfully, I had the wherewithal not to give up just yet on expanding my palate, and I tried the Chipotle Black Bean Burger at Evelyn & Olive. And hallelujah, what a delight!

The ciabatta bun is lightly toasted, and the black bean patty, topped with tomato and lettuce, has just the right amount of crisp. But the mango-barbecue sauce is the real star of the show with a smoky but sweet flavor. Plus, the dish came with a side, so I also devoured some fried plantains, which mmmm, I could snack on all day and night and the next morning, too. Overall, the black bean burger is pretty simple compared to the other Jamaican and Southern dishes on the menu, but Evelyn & Olive can never disappoint. — Abigail Morici

Evelyn & Olive, 630 Madison Avenue

No.1 Farm Burger at Farm Burger (Photo: Courtesy Farm Burger)

No. 1 Farm Burger at Farm Burger
The eponymous sandwich at Farm Burger in Crosstown Concourse is exactly what you’d want something called a “farm burger” to be — fat, juicy, but tight enough in its bun to be easily managed by hand. Cooked to your order (I like mine medium well), the patty I had was topped with cheddar and a generous layer of caramelized onions and marinated in the establishment’s “f.b. sauce” (mayonnaise, garlic, and a touch of chili were some of the recognizable components). The bun encasing all these goodies was an integral part of the package, as well, its breaded halves neither melted on nor floppily separate.

The burger, which is served in a basket, can be further customized more or less to the customer’s taste, and a variety of sides is available. I was happy enough with the basic Farm Burger as normally prepared, but I was curious enough about what was billed as “pimento cheese fries” to give that menu item a try. It turned out to be a delectable (and generously proportioned) selection of french fries smothered in melted pimento cheese and crowned with sliced jalapeños. Forks are available. You can eat as many of the peppers — or as few — as you choose. It may depend on what your drink choice is; mine was a glass of a refreshingly light pilsner beer. Standard teas and soft drinks can be had as well. — Jackson Baker

Farm Burger, 1350 Concourse Avenue #175

Assassin Burger at Wally Hatchet’s (Photo: Toby Sells)

Assassin Burger at Wally Hatchet’s
Drive east past the Malco Summer Drive-In, cross the Wolf River, pass Golf and Games, and drive past the Shoney’s graveyard of Summer and Sycamore View. Find self-control enough to pass Elena’s Taco Shop, cross Elmore Road, and you’ll find Wally Hatchet’s, nestled in a strip mall with a how-can-this-still-be-Memphis address.

The lunch-rush crowd was finishing up as I entered. Customer graffiti covered the walls in between colorful prints of Hank Jr., Merle Haggard, and the like. The aesthetic was NASCAR-dad man-cave with a collage of art (like a painted board that reads “rock me baby”), a dented piece of a race car, a giant Harley-Davidson sign, and a toilet-roll holder shaped like a revolver. One wall was dedicated to military veterans.

Given the drive, I wanted the wildest burger Wally Hatchet’s had to offer. The Assassin Burger was tasty but mild, given an ingredient list that included pepper jack cheese, grilled jalapeños, and pepper sauce that tasted an awful lot like A1.

Wally Hatchet’s won’t become my next burger obsession. But, if you’re out that way, give it a try. — Toby Sells

Wally Hatchet’s, 6439 Summer Avenue

Categories
Music Music Features

Howard Grimes on His New Book and Bulldogging the Beat

When I walk into Electraphonic Recording to meet Howard Grimes, I hear him before I see him. He’s behind the drum kit, recreating a beat he used to do when he backed a doo-wop group, the Largos, at Currie’s Club Tropicana. He’s laughing at the memory as he plays the shuffle he’d start when Roosevelt Green did his comedy bit. “He would pantomime this whole scheme, and it was all based on the rhythm I was playing. Boom-chick, boom-chick. The funniest part was when he got in his car, and he’d slam the door and I’d catch him — it was tight, man! — then he’d crank the car up, and you’d see him still moving and dancing inside as he drove away.”

Club Tropicana is fresh on my mind, as I’ve just read Grimes’ new autobiography, Timekeeper: My Life in Rhythm (Devault Graves Books), written with Preston Lauterbach. Yet having it spring to life with his actual playing and stories from his youngest days feels like some kind of miracle. It makes one grateful to be around when legends like Grimes still walk the earth.

Reading the book, to its credit, is very much like hearing stories from the great man himself. Only the beats are missing, though you can listen along to the accompanying “Howard Grimes ‘Timekeeper’ Playlist” on Spotify. It presents hit after hit that Grimes played drums on, from Rufus and Carla Thomas’ “Cause I Love You,” a significant early single on Satellite Records (before it became Stax), to Willie Mitchell’s “Soul Serenade” from 1968, to the silky funk of Al Green’s greatest chart-toppers. Few figures span the transition from early ’60s R&B to the smooth, funky soul of the ’70s with such aplomb, but hearing the span of his work on the playlist as you read, a direct connection between the herky-jerky “Frog Stomp” and the smoldering “Love and Happiness” becomes apparent: a relentless, driving rhythm.

That driving, steady quality led Willie Mitchell to call him “Bulldog.” As Grimes recalls, “Willie Mitchell told me, ‘You know, Howard, when you play, I can hear you coming.’ I didn’t know what he was talking about. But when I cut a track, he said, ‘I can hear you coming. That foot!’ Willie was very distinct on listening to musicians. That’s how I learned so much.” The nickname has stuck to this day with variations. “Teenie [Hodges] always called me Pup. ‘Hey Pup, what ya doing, Pup?’ Leroy [Hodges] called me Dog. When I cut a session, Willie would always go, ‘Hey Dog! There’s the Dog! Here he comes!’”

Speaking of the many iconic tracks he laid down with the Hodges brothers and Mitchell, I can’t resist asking Grimes about one beat in particular, so distinctive as to have been subsequently sampled on nearly 200 tracks, from The Notorious B.I.G. to Massive Attack: the introduction to Al Green’s “I’m Glad You’re Mine.”

“Well, I love Ernie K-Doe and Lee Dorsey. So Lee Dorsey had this record out, ‘Working in the Coal Mine.’ The day ‘I’m Glad You’re Mine’ came up, I couldn’t hear nothing but that ‘Working in the Coal Mine’ pattern! So something guided me to play the first four bars of that because I knew it would fit with the way we had worked up the song. When we put the song together and we cut it, [Willie] said, ‘Man, you crazy as hell! Drummers ain’t never gonna figure out what the hell you did! Where in the hell did you come up with that?’ So I told him, and he said, ‘You just as crazy as Earl Palmer. You all is tit for tat.’”

Some rhythms that Grimes put on wax years ago mystify even him. “I cut a song on Ivory Joe Hunter, called ‘This Kind of Woman,’” he relates. “There’s no cymbals, just bongo drums and rhythm, and I don’t know what I did! It’s a difficult song, man, and I’ll be playing it now every day, trying to figure it out, could I ever bring that back? I haven’t figured it out yet.”

Howard Grimes and Preston Lauterbach will appear at the Stax Museum of American Soul Music, Live from Studio A, on Wednesday, July 21, 7 p.m. Live attendance is at capacity, but viewing by Zoom is offered at this link. The Bo-Keys will also perform with Grimes and singer Percy Wiggins. Free.

Categories
At Large Opinion

The True-Life Adventures of Retiree Man

People keep asking me how this whole “retirement” thing is going, so I’m going to give y’all a brief summary.

First, I haven’t been in the actual Flyer office for more than five minutes at a time since March 2020, so the transition to pseudo-retirement was made a bit easier. The Flyer Slack channel — which is basically a group text that never ends — was the office. I still monitor Slack, but not as relentlessly.

I’m writing a couple hours a day and also putting together a collection of my stuff for publication at some point. I’ve been taking French classes on Duolingo for about a year, but I’ve ramped that up lately. I do laundry. I water the garden. I mow the yard. I’m living on the edge, basically.

The main change in my life is that I’m now a dog. I’m the alpha of my pack, and why not? I mean, the other two are co-dependent slugs who lack all ambition. They spend the day lying at my feet, waiting for me to move, which, to be honest, is a big responsibility. I get up and walk toward the kitchen and they follow, tails wagging, wide-eyed: “OMG, is he going to eat something??”

Or, if I should casually walk toward the back door, they’re up in a flash, dancing around like idiots. If they had pants, they’d be peeing in them: “Is he gonna grab the leashes? Huh? Huh? HE IS! HE’S GOT THE LEASHES! OH MY GOD, THIS IS AMAZING! WE’RE GOING FOR A WALK!! OH, HAPPY DAY!! HOLY CRAP!!!”

Oh to be a dog and to be able to get that ecstatic over something that happens Every. Damn. Day. It’s a gift, I swear. Lucky dogs.

Sometimes we go to Tobey Dog Park, which has a self-appointed park monitor: “Olive just pooped down in the corner, just past the third tree!” she’ll say, helpfully. Yeah, I saw that, thanks, Pat. She means well, but I’m the alpha here.

Most of the time, I drive them to Overton Bark, where they can hang with other hounds for a bit before we venture off onto one of the countless trails and paths of the Old Forest. I’m still finding new ones. Our walks are quiet, shady, soul-cleansing — and even informational. If I hear an unusual bird sound, I record it on my BirdNET app. When I learn that it’s a great crested flycatcher, I dutifully pass along this knowledge to my pack. I like to keep them updated. I also check plants, so I can let them know that those blue blossoms we’re walking past are American bellflowers.

After 45 minutes of hiking and learning, my girls are panting — bushed and ready for some air-conditioning. Who’s a good alpha? Who’s a good alpha? Me. That’s who.

Back home, as the dogs return to their spots under the table, I check Duolingo. I’ve gone from spending 30 minutes a day when I was working full-time to as much as a couple of hours a day now. Yes, it’s because I want to get better at French, but I must admit it’s also because Duolingo (le batard!) has figured out a way to make language learning a competitive sport. There are “standings” — a league where you get points for how many lessons you take each day and how many points you get on your tests. I like to win, mes amis, and Duolingo knows this — and knows how to suck me back in.

During my walk in the park, for example, I could have gotten an alert (I did) that “Amelie” has moved into first place in our league. You can be sure, now that I’m home, I’m going to be taking an unstoppable hour-long dive into passe imparfait. “Amelie” won’t know what hit her. She may be good at French, but she’s no alpha. She is powerless against Retiree Man.

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We Recommend We Recommend

Preview Ephraim Urevbu’s Newest Exhibition Before it Heads to Nashville

Ephraim Urevbu has held down the corner at Huling and South Main since 1998. Prior to that, Urevbu migrated from Nigeria in 1980, earned a bachelor’s and master’s degree in fine arts from the University of Memphis, and opened the Art Village Gallery on Beale in 1991, which was moved to the current location. Recently, the gallery was rebranded as Urevbu Contemporary.

A new exhibit, “The Naked Truth: An American Story in White, Red and Blue,” is headed to Belmont University in Nashville and will be shown in the university’s Leu Art Gallery this fall. The full exhibition consists of more than 50 original paintings inspired by the advent of public demonstrations surrounding issues of social justice, the unjust treatment of African Americans, and the normalized presence of systematic racism.

Ahead of the university exhibition opening in late August, the artist will hold a preview exhibition, an artist-led talk, and private tour with a cross-section of paintings on display — a suite of 20 abstract expressionist paintings from the series. Many will be paired with a short essay or reference material, which function as key components to provide interactive and layered experiences to viewers.

“For 400 years, American culture and nationhood has been haunted, stalked, and tormented by the reality and symbols of racial injustice — the chains, the noose, the statues, the bullets,” says Urevbu. “Now, well into the 21st century, the labels, suspicions and accusations, the protests and riots, the righteous indignation, and ‘good trouble’ rise again and again as a shadow on the land and as a spotlight on the hypocrisy of a nation that saw itself as the standard-bearer for freedom.”

A line of limited-edition candles titled “Good Trouble” and a coffee table book titled after the exhibition are to be released in late fall of 2021. Both items can be pre-ordered at the event.

Exhibition preview for “The Naked Truth: An American Story in White, Red and Blue,” Urevbu Contemporary, 410 S. Main, Saturday, July 24, 4-6 p.m., free with registration.

Categories
Art Art Feature

Particle Man: Amir Hadadzadeh’s “Micro-Aesthetic”

If you were to zoom into a piece of metal — and I mean really zoom in, down to the atom, down to a billionth of a meter — you might get an image similar to those captured by Amir Hadadzadeh, whose microstructure images are now on display in his “Micro-Aesthetic” exhibition at the Art Museum of the University of Memphis.

An assistant professor in the department of mechanical engineering, Hadadzadeh uses these images in his research on the nano- and micro-features of metals to evaluate the determining properties of the internal structures. “We find a connection between the properties and the features that we see on the very small-scale,” he says, “thinner than the thickness of a hair.”

While working with these images, taken through electron microscopy, Hadadzadeh realized that “whether I’m thinking about it or writing a scientific paper or trying to interpret all of the images, I have the same feeling as being high.” To him, this tiny science contained an unexpected beauty. “They are all scientific images,” he says, “but they have artistic features — colors, lines, patterns, and there’s similarity to what we see in our everyday life.”

Amir Hadadzadeh (Photo: Courtesy U of M)

So with the help of his wife, Sepideh Dashti, who is an artist working in both photography and performance art mediums, he selected a dozen or so images for his exhibition out of the hundreds stored on his computer from his time as a postdoctoral fellow at the University of New Brunswick and CanmetMATERIALS in Canada. “I tried to pick images with some features that can have a connection to our everyday life,” Hadadzadeh says. He even titled the images of the zoomed-in fabricated aluminum or titanium as objects they resemble — “Hot Peppers,” “Hairy Back,” “Horse Head,” “Atomic Heart.”

“My purpose here was to engage the general public with what I have been doing during my research,” Hadadzadeh says. While to the average onlooker the “hairs” on “Hairy Back” might be just that, engineers like Hadadzadeh use the hair-like lines to characterize the strength of the metal. Though the colors on some of the pieces may appear abstract, engineers use them to understand and interpret the image according to a color-coding system.

All of these features are important to Hadadzadeh’s research, but, he says, “I don’t expect the general public to understand the science.” In fact, he encourages visitors just to look around and enjoy what they see. “People can know that scientists are doing something that has scientific value and artistic value,” he says. “I’m trying to combine them here. This is the first step for me, and I’m trying to explore how I can do more and use the adventurous world of art to promote science and engage people and encourage them to learn a little more.”

Before this exhibit, Hadadzadeh had never really experimented with art. “I’m from Iran, and in Iran, usually families really would like their children to go to engineering schools or medical schools,” he says. “Unfortunately, at least for my generation, they didn’t appreciate art or humanities.” Even so, the professor found his passion in material sciences and engineering and can’t imagine doing anything else. “I’m not an artist,” he says. “I’m an engineer.”

But under his wife’s artistic influence, he’s learned to engage with his creative side. “Let’s be honest,” he says. “Engineers and scientists usually do not understand the art in the proper way. … She changed that mindset in me.”

Now that Hadadzadeh has had a taste of his wife’s creative philosophy, he plans to pursue his art further and hopes to have more exhibitions that can simultaneously promote art and science. “It is very helpful to have an artist in your life,” he says, “and I’m very grateful for it.”
“Micro-Aesthetic” is on view at the Art Museum of the University of Memphis until September 30th.

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Hungry Memphis

Josh McLane to Open Sandwich Shop

Josh McLane — of stand-up comedy, music, and culinary fame — will open a sandwich shop this winter in the upcoming South Point Grocery Store.

Taylor James, son of Cash Saver and High Point Grocery owner Rick James, approached him about opening a sandwich shop, according to McLane, 41. “They’re opening another grocery store downtown, South Point Grocery Store,” he says.  “And inside there I’m going to be opening a sandwich shop. They called me. And said they had an idea. They wanted to put a small, no BS, something-different-kind-of-sandwich place in it. And my name got thrown in the hat.”

McLane, who will run the sandwich shop himself, says James knew him from when he worked at the Hi Tone kitchen. “I was running the kitchen at the old location. I had six or seven sandwiches in that. I got known for pulling stuff out of thin air.”

Like vegetarian sandwiches. “My wife is a vegetarian. I got creative after eight weeks of doing that. I wanted to make sure she had a decent variety of things to eat. By proxy, I had a decent vegetarian menu.”

His HEELS sandwich, named after the band consisting of himself and Brennan Whalen, is how he “got known as a sandwich guy.”

The HEELS sandwich is composed of spicy peanut butter, jalapeño strawberry jam, bacon, and provolone cheese. “Something I’ve eaten my whole life. Being a blue collar kid, I’ve eaten PBJ forever. You’d add another fancier element to it. When I was at Fino’s [on the Hill] I started taking provolone home. That’s how that came together.”

McLane began cooking when he was a child. “It was very important for both of my parents that I knew how to cook a meal for myself. They’re both big cooks themselves. My mom was showing me her spaghetti sauce when I was like 5 years old. And, to this day, that’s how I make my spaghetti sauce. My dad is a life-long hunter, so I knew how to do that stuff.

“I went to culinary school instead of college. A place not here any more. It was more like a course. This was like 2005, at a house over on Central and Peabody. I did the usual Domino’s when I was in my twenties. I’ve been cooking my whole life. I cooked when I was at the P&H, Fino’s, and, after I left Fino’s, I opened the Hi Tone kitchen. That was all me. [Brian] Skinny [McCabe] helped me come up with things on the menu, but that was my whole deal, my business to run. And then I was the prep guy at Little Italy Downtown for a year.”

Recently, McLane has been a “stay-at-home dad” to his and his wife, Cara’s, eight-month-old son, Gideon.

McLane describes himself as a “whatever’s in the fridge” type of chef. “A lot of chefs are good at taking an expensive piece of meat and elevating it into something and not messing it up.”

McLane can take whatever he already has around “and make it awesome. I am going to blow your minds with what we have in the fridge.”

As for sandwiches at the upcoming shop, McLane says, “We’ll definitely have a Reuben on it. Plan on having my garlic bread, pesto garlic butter, and mozzarella cheese. I’m sure a club sandwich with deli meats. And a good vegetarian one that I had at the Hi Tone — the Care Package — with olive tapenade, lettuce, tomato, two kinds of cheese, and marinated mushrooms.”

He plans to call the sandwich shop “South Point Kitchen.” “‘Cause I don’t do fancy names. I think they were expecting something clever. That’s what you get when I do music and stand up. When I work-work it’s very easy, simple. I don’t like coming up with wacky titles like people expect.”

McLane named that sandwich HEELS “to market the band at the same time.”

He will have his own “little area at the side of this grocery store. We’ll have a deli counter, too, with all kinds of meats. A little refrigerated section next to the deli with all kinds of local foods.”

McLane usually wears a suit and tie when doing stand up and jeans and T-shirts when he’s doing music.

So, what will he wear at the sandwich shop? “Who knows, man. Probably a chef’s coat. Basketball shorts.”

Stay tuned.

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

Roadrunner: A Film About Anthony Bourdain

It’s weird to talk about “the mystery” of Anthony Bourdain. The truth is, the chef-turned-author-turned-travel show star was one of the most visible and open people on the planet. At one point in Roadrunner: A Film About Anthony Bourdain, director Morgan Neville uses clips from a 2016 episode of the CNN travelogue show Parts Unknown in which Bourdain talks to a therapist while visiting Argentina. “I should be happy,” he says. “I have incredible luck.” 

Do you ever feel happy, the therapist asks? “No,” replies Bourdain. 

It’s true, Bourdain did have good luck. His 2000 book Kitchen Confidential defined the seedy glamour of restaurant work for a generation—more importantly, it was an inspiration to millions of talented, smart people stuck in dead end jobs. He successfully parlayed his second book, A Cook’s Tour, into a third career as a travel writer and TV host. When he died of suicide in 2018 while on a shoot in France, his friends and fans were devastated. How could a former cocaine and heroin addict who had survived 25 years in an industrial kitchen to become the voice and conscience of Americans abroad decide to check out so suddenly? 

When someone kills themselves, those of us left behind want answers. As his friend, graffiti artist David Choe says late in the film, “Tony let me down.” 

But the truth about suicide is much more mundane. Cases like Cleopatra, who killed herself because she lost the Battle of Alexandria and was about to be deposed from her throne by the Romans, are exceedingly rare. The answer to “Why did they do it?” almost never has a clear cut answer beyond lifelong mental illness. One day, things just caught up with them. 

Neville, to his credit, understands that the big risk in making this film is to focus too much on the end. This is a biography, like Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, his 2018 film on Fred Rogers. It benefits greatly from the hundreds of hours of video shot by the crews following him on his trips around the world, thanks to longtime producer and creative partner Lydia Tenaglia. Bourdain’s career arc is measured visually by the progression from blurry millennial digital video to sharp 4K. His own words, of which there are volumes, explain his growth from a rather insular New Yorker to a world traveler. “I don’t trust anything that happens out there,” he says early in the picture, gesturing to the world outside the kitchen.

But an incident in 2006, when he and his crew were trapped in a Beirut hotel while a war between Israel and Hezbollah destroyed the vibrant city around him, fundamentally changed his perspective. Later, when a Laotian man who lost limbs in an American bombing attack during the Vietnam War asks him why he used what was ostensibly a cooking show to highlight the abuses of American imperialism, he replies, “It’s the least I can do.” 

That’s the Bourdain that his audience trusted and loved: Empathetic, honest, and open about the lucky breaks he received. Yes, he was a talented writer with a magnetic persona, but he was also in the right place at the right time, and he never forgot it. Neville and editor Eileen Meyer balance potential hero worship by interviewing people who worked with him, and knew how difficult he could be to get along with in real life. Thanks to Neville’s decision not to interview actress Asia Argento, the girlfriend whose public breakup happened days before his suicide, Bourdain superfans might not find much new to learn in Roadrunner. But it was the right choice. This movie is not about “who killed Anthony Bourdain?” It is “who was Anthony Bourdain?” As the title, taken from a Jonathan Richman song, implies, he was a guy who ran all his life, until he couldn’t any more.