Tag: Overton Square

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Cover Feature News

Bad Behavior

The world we live in today is kind of a bummer. There’s a terrorist attack somewhere around the globe nearly every day. Racism, classism, sexism, and homophobia run rampant, and Donald Trump is actually running for president. Our Facebook feeds have become a bitter war zone and a hub for narcissism and low self-esteem.

We could probably all use an escape. And how better to toss your cares aside and forget the wicked ways of the world for a few hours than with a little sex, drugs, and booze? And heck, while you’re at it, you might as well blow stuff up with guns, too.

The Flyer editorial team spent an evening getting into all sorts of trouble as we wiped our cares away. Editor Bruce VanWyngarden escaped into the river bottoms to shoot guns at all sorts of inanimate objects. Music editor Chris Shaw drank at local bars until the sun came up (or, at least, he thinks he did). Associate editor Bianca Phillips visited a strip club, and intern Joshua Cannon caught a flick at the Paris Adult Entertainment Center. An anonymous writer, identified here as Mr. X, spent an afternoon getting blitzed with his pot dealer.

After it was all over, Facebook was still at war, and the world still sucked. But at least we had fun. — Bianca Phillips

Guns ‘n’ Stuff

This cover story is about “bad behavior,” and, on the surface, there’s nothing intrinsically “bad” about shooting guns, unless it involves criminal activity of some sort. But there is no denying that something visceral is unleashed — something that sparks a surge of dopamine — when you fire a gun and watch the load hit an inanimate object, say a 64-ounce plastic Mountain Dew bottle.

Woody Allen was once asked if sex was dirty. “It is if you’re doing it right,” he replied. Same with guns. It goes back to my childhood. I grew up in a small country town. Plunking stuff with a gun out in the boonies is in my DNA. Now and then, I get the urge to relive my youth, and I’ve found a perfect spot to do it.

I won’t tell you where it is, exactly, but I can tell you it’s at the end of a dirt road in the Loosahatchie River bottoms.

There’s something a little dangerous — or at least, creepy — about being there, at least in my mind. The nearby water is slough-like, green and murky — a slow backwater bend that’s home to catfish and snapping turtles. Alligator gar cruise just beneath the surface like freshwater sharks, looking for something to eat. In the distance, you can hear the occasional whir of a car on the main road, but otherwise it’s got the feel of a swamp, quiet and filled with mystery.

You get the feeling people come here to do secret things, bad things.

Like dumping their trash.

Yes, sadly, this quiet, dead-end back road is one of those places that locals have decided is a good spot to leave their leftover building materials, bottles and cans, tires, and old furniture, etc. There are piles of junk everywhere. It’s disgusting and a crime against nature, the kind of thing that makes you ask: What the hell is wrong with people?

But, once you get past that, you begin to see it for what it is: a target-rich environment, and a great place to conduct Mythbusters-type experiments, such as: What happens when you fire a load of birdshot into drywall from 50 feet? How does a radial tire react when struck by a .22 pistol bullet? Will buckshot go through a metal garbage can lid? (Yes!) Is that old, black, pleather sofa bullet-proof? (Nope.)

It’s, you know, science.

So here’s my recipe for some mischief that feels good and hurts no one: Take a friend, a six-pack, a few boxes of shells, a couple of guns, and find some junk to shoot at. You’re good for an hour of noisy fun. And as bad behavior goes, you could do worse, much worse. — Bruce VanWyngarden

A Trip to Paris

The first rule of porn theaters: Don’t address fellow patrons. But when a faceless man walked into a dark room at the Paris Adult Entertainment Center — illuminated by one flickering corner light and a crooked flatscreen television that displayed three male prisoners and one female guard mid-foursome — I broke etiquette with a square “Hi, how are you?” No response.

The size of a modest bedroom — or a windowless chamber from the mid-2000s horror film Hostel — the room smelled like stale cigarettes and was decorated with scattered folding chairs and a broken couch. The faceless man sat near the front. When he reached into his pocket, my engineered Southern hospitality led me to extend him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was checking his phone.

Despite living in a time where access to porn is at our fingertips and more or less free, and online shopping provides discreet convenience, the Paris somehow stays in business. There are two “theaters” (a generous description) and private viewing booths. A single ticket for the theater is $7, but you can see both films for $12. A private viewing booth is $6.

The building that houses the Paris Adult Entertainment Center has a storied history. Michael Cianciolo built the theater in 1939 and named it the Luciann, an ode to his daughters, Lucy and Ann. A bowling alley moved into the building in the early 1960s and remained until 1966, when it became a nightclub complete with one of the city’s first lighted dance floors. Paris Adult Group purchased the building in the 1970s. Above a yellow marquee that reads “XXX,” the theater’s original art deco exterior still towers over Summer Avenue. Cianciolo’s daughters’ names, cemented with pure intentions, still remain.

Romantix — America’s one-stop shop for sex toys — manages the theater. There are DVDs to please all tastes, even a bargain bin (!), sweet and sour sensual body treats for you and yours, and vibrating nipple belts. While studying objects intended for my bodily orifices, Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg’s recent animated film Sausage Party, in which supermarket food items take on life, came to mind. How would that toy, if sentient, feel while serving its purpose? Not well, I imagine.

Perhaps exhibitionists, as well as those who keep the latest releases on their radar, still have access to exclusive content. After ducking out of the film, Marc Dorcel’s Hot Nights in Prison, I googled the title to see if it could be found online for free. No luck. I went home and showered, stale cigarette smoke lingering in my nose. — Joshua Cannon

Party All Night

Most of the time, when I find myself awake at 5 a.m. after a night of heavy drinking, I’ll ask the familiar question, “How did I get here?” Intentionally partying all night takes some self-convincing, so when I was asked by my co-worker to go out drinking with the notion that I was going to stay out until the sun came up, I felt a little weird about it. One might even call that fleeting feeling responsibility.

That notion quickly went away after a beer and a shot in the old Le Chardonnay side of the Bayou Bar & Grill — the watering hole in Overton Square that the salmon-shorts-and-daddy’s-credit-card sect haven’t discovered yet. It was 9:30 p.m. Game on.

Then I went back to a friend’s house so she could drop off her car, which is probably the last good decision that was made. I had another beer and another shot of tequila at her house, and then we headed to Lafayette’s to see Chickasaw Mound play a free show.

I was starting to feel good, so I decided to have another shot and another beer. I was pretty sure that Lafayette’s closed early (they do), so I wanted to make sure I got my money’s worth. Plus, you can’t really watch a band like Chickasaw Mound while you’re sober.

After the show, we headed to the Blue Monkey on Madison. Things got a little weird from there.

I remember talking to a member of Lucero about Doug Easley being cool. I remember drinking a few Wiseacre Anandas and seeing my tattoo artist and his longtime girlfriend. I don’t really remember much else, but at some point, I apparently decided to stroll down Madison and go to the Lamplighter. By that time, it was 2:04 in the morning. I had a beer at the Lamplighter, walked over to Zinnie’s for a shot, and then there is this weird time gap where I have no idea what happened.

At 4:30 a.m. I was at Alex’s Tavern putting on all of the worst music their jukebox has to offer. Y’all like the album Aja by Steely Dan? I hope so, ’cause here it comes.

I remember being really angry that an ATM wouldn’t work. What kind of shit is that? At about 5 a.m. a girl sat down at the bar next to me and started talking about the bartender’s cat and how he’s going to give it away.

This caused me great pain. Why, I had no earthly idea. I didn’t even know this cat. It could totally be an asshole. Why should I care what happens to it? A better question would probably have been, “Why am I still awake?”

I remember I suggested moving the cat to a rural area, perhaps somewhere with a barn. Everyone agreed that this was a good decision.

The sun was now coming up, and, as I rode home, I realized that my work wasn’t actually paying me to get drunk as much as it was paying me to contract a blistering hangover. I had been duped. Touché. — Chris Shaw

A Night at a Strip Club

It’s just past midnight on a Saturday as my boyfriend and I pull into the parking lot of the Purple Diamond — a relatively new “gentleman’s club” at Sycamore View and Macon, conveniently located in the Bass Pro Shops parking lot (get your guns and girls, bruh).

“Do we have to do this?” Paul whines.

“Yes, it’s for work. Now, get out of the car, and let’s go see some tits,” I reluctantly reply, realizing just how lame we’ve become in our mid-30s. We’d both rather be at home, sipping wine in our PJs and watching Stranger Things on Netflix. But work is work.

We pay $25 at the door — for both of us — and the doorman hands us four drink tickets. Each one is good for one beer, which seems like a pretty good deal, since we were only planning to have a couple beers each anyway. The night is already starting to look up.

We enter the dark bar, grab some beers, and sit in black velvet chairs close enough to the stage to see but far enough away to not have to engage with the dancers. There was a time when I’d prefer to be all up in a stripper’s crotch, but those wild days are behind me. Honestly, I’m ready for my AARP card, but that’s another story.

A bikini-clad woman on the mirrored stage takes the mic to introduce Sierra and says it’s the woman’s first time on stage. Sierra slinks out in a surprisingly tasteful halter top, thong bikini bottoms, and tall glitter heels. She works the pole with sultry skill as a woman from the audience works her way to a seat in front of the stage. The woman pulls out a bill and waves it at Sierra, who works her way down to the floor and shimmies her breasts in the woman’s face as she takes the bill away.

And that’s about as raunchy as it gets. Thanks to Shelby County’s adoption of the Tennessee Adult-Oriented Establishment Regulation Act back in 2012, adult dancers in the county are no longer allowed to get naked. According to that law, the following is banned: “The showing of the human male or female genitals or pubic area with less than a fully opaque covering, the showing of the female breast with less than a fully opaque covering of any part of the nipple, or the showing of the covered male genitals in a discernibly turgid state.”

Bummer. Also, did that just say “discernibly turgid state”? Ha!

Back when I was much younger and way more fun, I occasionally found myself at the infamous (and long-shuttered) Platinum Plus, where it wasn’t uncommon to see two totally nekkid ladies on stage, um, enjoying a little Egg McMuff (if you catch my drift).

What we witnessed on Saturday night is more of a glorified Hooters minus the hot wings — although the DJ was really pushing the club’s 14-ounce ribeye.

Somehow, the no-nudity law hasn’t kept the patrons away, though. On Saturday night, the crowd seemed unphased by the lack of nipple-age. An older man, who spent most of the evening sitting very near the stage with his mouth agape and a wide grin on his face, was clearly having a great time.

“It’s like watching the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition live,” Paul remarks, as a woman in an orange bikini worked the pole to Calvin Harris’ “How Deep Is Your Love.”

And indeed it was. While watching the dancers parade around in bikinis is nice, I must admit that I miss the old Platinum days. But seeing as how that’s coming from someone who’d rather be watching Netflix, take that with a grain of salt. — Bianca Phillips

The Weed Guy

The Midtown apartment’s air is thick with smoke as the Weed Guy packs another bowl for the green glass bong. In Junkie, William Burroughs noted that, of all the different flavors of drug dealers, the weed guy is the only one you’re expected to hang out with. Sixty-three years later, this is still true.

Burroughs thought this was annoying, but I’ve always liked it. It’s the reason why being a stoner can feel like you’re part of a secret society. And besides, says “Bob,” a long-haired 20-something, who looks like he just arrived from 1973, selling to strangers can get you arrested, and you don’t want a dealer who seems reckless.

Memphis has always been a good town for weed. The geographical advantages that made us America’s Distribution Center work the same for the black market. Legend has it that the 1967 Country Blues Festival at the Overton Park Shell was financed by — and presumably enhanced by — the sale of a giant block of hashish.

The Weed Guy notes that, despite billions spent on the War on Drugs, weed prices in Memphis have been more or less stable for 20 years. Stoners still hang out, have loopy, but oh-so-meaningful conversations, listen to music, and munch on snack food, but now there are bongs and blunts, vapes and dabs, and the video games are so much better.

Conversation turns, as it often does these days, to the prospects of decriminalization. The mood is hopeful. The full legalization experiments in Colorado, Washington, and Oregon have been unqualified successes, raising tens of millions of tax dollars for the states, improving access and safety for the heads, and pioneering a weed culture that looks something like wine culture, with dozens of varietals of varied tastes and effects available at boutique stores.

The Weed Guy says people now understand the anti-pot rhetoric of the drug war has always been bogus. There’s no question weed has therapeutic value in this crowd. “Gayle” says a doctor prescribed Xanax for her anxiety disorder, but it transformed her into a zombie. Cannabis better relieves her anxiety with few negative side effects, helping her to be a productive person.

And who can deny the contributions the lambsbread has made to music, film, and art? Louis Armstrong, Paul McCartney, Willie Nelson, Snoop Dogg, Rihanna — so many of our greatest musicians have been dedicated tokers. The Weed Guy abstains from alcohol, a drug he considers extremely harmful. To him, beer ads running on television, while marijuana is classified alongside heroin as a Schedule I drug, are the ultimate signs of cultural hypocrisy.

But as marijuana goes mainstream, something is being lost. Pot is no longer the countercultural signifier it used to be. The real action is in Molly, but the Weed Guy doesn’t like to deal with fluff-heads. When weed is legal, we’ll just go to the store. The long afternoons playing Grand Theft Auto at at the Weed Guy’s house will be over.

My head feels a little spinny as the Weed Guy pulls the last tube. He clinks out the bong’s bowl in an ancient, heaping ashtray. “You want me to pack another one?”

Of course we do. — Mr. X

Categories
News The Fly-By

Not All Are Happy with the New Greensward Parking Plan

Grumbles about the final Greensward parking plan began even before the Memphis City Council recorded its unanimous vote to approve it last Tuesday.

Memphis Mayor Jim Strickland unveiled a plan to permanently end the Memphis Zoo’s use of the Overton Park Greensward on July 1st. That plan included adding parking spaces on existing zoo lots and on North Parkway, a new zoo entrance on North Parkway, and running shuttles from a new zoo lot on East Parkway.

Council member Bill Morrison brought a modified version of that plan to the council on July 19th, one approved by the zoo and the Overton Park Conservancy (OPC). The Morrison plan added 415 new parking spaces to the zoo’s existing lots and added parking along North Parkway.

With this, zoo officials said they no longer needed the added parking on East Parkway and, thus, no longer needed to run trams through the Old Forest or on city streets. The city’s General Services lot on the east side of the park will instead become parking and green space for Overton Park.

But all of this will take time. Morrison’s plan won’t end Greensward parking until 2019.

Also, the plan gave the zoo legal latitude to park on the entire Greensward until the new changes are instituted. However, zoo officials have said they will continue to park cars on its traditional footprint, which is roughly the top third of the 12-acre Greensward.

The new agreement does not set legal boundaries for park entities, a contrast from the council’s March 1st resolution, which gave the zoo control of two-thirds of the Greensward. Instead, council members gave the city engineer authority to establish those boundaries — flexibility to change the plan as engineers fit the 415 spaces in the area.

All of this raised the ire of Citizens to Preserve Overton Park (CPOP), an independent park advocacy group.

“And just to put a cherry on top, this action was a violation of state Sunshine Law, because the public had zero access to this resolution or exhibit until a citizen requested that information during the city council meeting,” read a CPOP post on Facebook.

Details of the final plan were not divulged until the council’s executive session, only two hours before the group was set to vote on it. The resolution was passed out to council members during that session but wasn’t made available to the public beforehand via the council’s website.

Getting that information led to an awkward exchange between CPOP member Stacey Greenberg and council chairman Kemp Conrad. Greenberg asked Conrad if the resolution was the final vote on the issue. Conrad said nothing.

“Mr. Conrad, did you hear what I said?” Greenberg asked. “I asked a question.”

“I heard you loud and clear,” Conrad said.

After a moment of silence, Greenberg said, “You’re not going to answer?”

Conrad replied, “I think it’s pretty clear.”

The final Greensward plan also calls for a northern portion of the field, a low-lying area with trees, to be paved.

“[One hundred and fifty] of the trees in this picture will be removed and paved over in accordance with our ‘win,'” said, Hunter Dempster, a member of the Stop Hurting Overton Park Facebook group. “We have the numbers and stats that show they don’t even need the Greensward.”

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

The “G” Word

Sears Crosstown rendering

Last week was a busy one for Midtown news. To recap: Parkway Grill and those delicious chicken pitas are history, hopefully not for good. YoLo is moving west to make room for a restaurant at the southeast corner of Madison and Cooper. Crosstown Concourse’s apartment units, the “Parcels,” are available for pre-lease and will be ready in December. And the Greensward debate might finally be settled? I’ll believe that one when I see it.

More changes are on the way. Some seem exciting, others just “ehhhh.” I’m not sure all of them are good ideas, but I’m willing to wait and see. I’ve heard reactions to the Overton Square and Crosstown news that were far less measured, with terms like “overpriced” and “bullshit” and even the dreaded “G word” bandied about.

Whoa there. I had no idea y’all were so passionate about your frozen yogurt. You’d think Pho Binh was being replaced with an artisan mayonnaise boutique or something, the way some people were carrying on. Now THAT would be a crisis.

Let’s not conflate revitalization with gentrification. Not while we’re trying to compensate for a half-century of population loss and alleviate poverty in the poorest metro in the country.

We need Midtown, and Memphis as a whole, to thrive. Yes, authenticity is important. We strive to support and uplift local businesses. We also need safety and good schools and other public goods that cost money. These needs are hard to fulfill in a city that’s full of renters but relies on property taxes. Memphis the metropolitan area spans three states, but Memphis the city only collects sales taxes in one of them (Think about that when you drive to the outlet mall).

I digress. Go to smartcitymemphis.com — they explain this stuff better than I can.

I used to think Midtown was so much more fun when I was in my 20s. Really, my nostalgia was more for the plot of my 20s than the setting. I do miss Square Foods, when it was in the space the Bayou now occupies. I miss the old Hi-Tone. I miss seeing bands at the Deli. I miss the Republic Coffee that was on Madison. Everything else I loved is still around, though. Some things have moved or improved. Some are harder to get to, but that’s because the empty and abandoned places have been replaced by other nice things for all kinds of people to enjoy. Yes, “all kinds” should — and does — include people who live outside of zip code 38104.

Rent was $500, split two ways, for the 2BR/1BA duplex near the Piggly Wiggly (better known to y’all new-to-town folks as “Cash Saver”) where I used to live in the early 2000s. It was much bigger than the entry-level Crosstown Parcel, which is $874. Unlike a Crosstown Parcel, it didn’t include wifi or a washer and dryer or a gym membership or a functioning stove. Like most things that are cheap, it was that way for a reason. The place was falling apart. Literally crumbling. What it lacked in amenities, it made up in “quirks” and experiences that would hopefully inspire a novel or at least an interesting chapter or two in my memoir.

Nearly every element of old-house charm had been painted over or sealed off to exempt the landlord from having to maintain it. I had to screw plywood boards to my window air conditioning unit so it would fit in the one window that opened. The hardwood floors were probably gorgeous at some point, before they were painted black.

The downstairs neighbors were a family of four hearing-impaired insomniacs who hated each other’s guts. Their favorite activities were yelling at each other and watching network television at top volume; often they did both at once. Vonage was running that commercial with The 5.6.7.8‘s “Woo Hoo,” and I swear it aired 100 times a day, double that on my days off. To this day I clench my teeth and fists whenever I hear that song.

The house was boarded up not long after we moved out. It’s still there, probably waiting for a fire or perhaps a strong gust of wind to put it out of its misery.

The character of Midtown hasn’t changed much, but little improvements like “not letting that entertainment district wither away completely” and “finally doing something about that dormant 1.5 million square foot building” seem to be working out OK so far. Housing demand is increasing as more people want to move in than to leave. New apartments are being built for the first time in years, and the market will decide whether the prices are right. Meanwhile, let’s hold off on throwing around words like “gentrification” — at least until the mayonnaise store opens.

Jen Clarke is an unapologetic Memphian and a digital marketing specialist.

Categories
Letter From The Editor Opinion

Detention Deficit

CREDIT: Andrew J. Breig

Andrew J. Breig

Exactly seven years ago this week, I wrote a column decrying a proposal by city engineers to turn the Overton Park Greensward into an 18-foot-deep “detention basin” designed to stop flooding in Midtown. The engineers claimed we’d hardly notice the football-field-sized bowl. “Except,” I wrote then, “when it rains hard, at which time, users of Overton Park would probably notice a large, 18-foot-deep lake in the Greensward. Or afterward, a large, muddy, trash-filled depression.”

It was a horrible idea, and it was opposed by all the same groups that now oppose allowing the Memphis Zoo to take over half the Greensward for parking on “peak days.” The basin was debated for a while, but in June of that year was rejected in favor of finding another solution — which turned out to be building a parking garage in the new Overton Square development with a water-detention basin underneath.

Brilliant. Innovative. Win-win.

It was the second time in Memphis history that park activists had stopped the government from destroying the Greensward, the first time, of course, being when “little old ladies in tennis shoes” went to the Supreme Court to stop the construction of I-40 through the middle of Overton Park and Midtown in the late 1960s. Many contend, and I agree, that stopping that interstate from splitting the park — and the established old neighborhoods of the center city — made possible the housing and retail renaissance that is now happening. Oh, and, by the way, those activists also saved the Memphis Zoo.

Which makes the latest assault on the Greensward even more ironic. Had the very activists the zoo is now dismissing as self-interested dilettantes not stopped the detention basin, the zoo would have had to come up with another idea for parking by now.

By taking the backdoor action it took last week, the Memphis City Council showed it has little awareness of the park’s history and no sensitivity to residents who have waged a decades-long battle to preserve the city’s premier public space. The spectacle of wealthy white councilmen, most of whom belong to country clubs that are, shall we say, less than diverse, playing the race card is beyond hypocritical.

I take my dog to Overton Bark almost every weekend, and finding a place to park is always difficult. The playground, the dog park, and the Greensward draw large — and diverse — crowds. Toss in visitors to the Brooks Museum, students at the Memphis College of Art, and golfers, and you’ve got peak usage of public space. And when the increasingly popular Levitt Shell concerts happen, the parking problem extends into the evening hours.

Parking for Overton Park isn’t just a zoo problem. It’s a Memphis problem. And it’s only going to get worse as more and more people move back into the center city. Finding a solution will require cooperation from all park tenants and innovative thinking by our mayor and council, who need to put aside loyalties to their financial patrons and do the right thing for all of us.

Don’t make us put you in detention.

Bruce VanWyngarden

brucev@memphisflyer.com

Categories
Letter From The Editor Opinion

Curb Alert

Do you know about Nextdoor.com? It’s a social media site that links you with your neighbors, providing an online forum for discussing common concerns: garage sales, lost and found pets, garbage and recycling, criminal activity, references for chimney sweeps and handymen, and curb alerts, where someone announces they’re putting, say, an old couch on the curb. First come, first served.

Last Sunday, the greatest curb alert of all time was posted on the Central Gardens Nextdoor.com site. It read:

Curb Alert – Ole Miss Football Season

The Ole Miss football season is on the curb by the Liberty Bowl.

Frankly, it was a rare example of wit on the site. Most posts are pretty mundane and some are borderline paranoid. “Suspicious” is perhaps the most-used word on Nextdoor.com. As in, “suspicious-looking teens walking down alley behind my house on Vinton at 4:45 p.m. Be aware.” I leave it to you to guess what usually constitutes a suspicious-looking teen. But, occasional paranoia aside, the site is pretty useful.

As is a big win over that SEC team from Oxford.

I was out Friday night, listening to the City Champs at the Buccaneer. During a break, I got into a conversation with a couple of Ole Miss fans from Nashville. I could tell they were Ole Miss fans because they were dressed entirely in red and white, and they were a little drunk and a little loud. But they were raving about Memphis. Seriously.

“There’s no music like this in Nashville,” they said. “There are no little clubs like this. It’s all that country shit.” They’d just had a large time earlier in the evening in Cooper-Young, and then in Overton Square, where someone had told them that they’d hear the best music in town at the Buc.

Then talk turned, as it must when talking to people dressed in garish school colors, to football. The Rebel fans conceded that Memphis had a nice offense and that Paxton Lynch was a “good college quarterback.” But, they explained, helpfully, Memphis was not ready for SEC competition. “Y’all’s defense won’t know what hit them,” they said. “SEC football is on a different level. It might be a game for a quarter or so,” they said, “but our depth will wear y’all down.”

I blush to admit now that I sort of agreed with them. Like most Memphians, I was hoping the Tigers could score enough to make the game interesting, but I had few illusions that Memphis could actually beat Ole Miss.

I’ve never been happier to be wrong about something in my life. And I’m happy the Ole Miss fans at least had a great night in Memphis before their team got kicked to the curb.

They were right about one thing: It was a game for a quarter or so.

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

Thanks, Mayor Wharton

CREDIT: Toby Sells

Toby Sells

Mayor A C Wharton

This is an open letter to Memphis Mayor A C Wharton. Yes, you’re still the mayor. You will be until December 31st, 2015. That gives you roughly 10 weeks left in office as the leader of Memphis. I’m just wondering what you plan to do in the next 10 weeks.

First, let me say that I have no beef whatsoever with Mayor-elect Jim Strickland. I haven’t met Mr. Strickland yet, and I hope he is wildly successful in making the hometown I love so much a better place. More than anything right now, though, I want to thank you, Mayor Wharton, for doing just that.

I think you have done a fantastic job in your roles as public defender, county mayor, and mayor of the city, despite the odds you have faced. In addition to your passionate work to get guns off the streets, help incarcerated, mentally disabled people get a fair shake, make Memphis a healthier city, and help distressed neighborhoods become thriving centers of commerce, culture, and hope, you have done this with grace, intelligence, and the sharpest sense of both honest concern and a sense of humor. You are one of the funniest people I’ve ever known, and I love that about you. A wit as quick as yours in a politician? Pretty rare.

But I also love your serious side and the fact that you seem to be able to always be at 10 places at once every day of every week. When something bad happens, you are there to try to come up with the answers. When something good happens, you are there to share the moment and pat people on the back for a job well done. You’re an incredible ambassador for Memphis, everywhere you go. Are you perfect? Nah. Nobody is. I don’t know a lot about politics, but I know something about good people, and you are certainly that. I’m proud to call you a friend.

The day after the October 8th election, I read a very disconcerting headline that proclaimed, “In humiliating loss, Wharton has only self to blame.” You’re probably too much of a gentleman to respond to that opinionated, kick-’em-when-they’re-down kind of smear tactic, but I will go on record saying that you have nothing to be humiliated about. It’s politics. Times change. The world keeps spinning. And the 15 million or so people who come here from all over the world every year to experience Memphis will continue to come to one of the coolest cities in the world, a city in which the majority of its residents don’t have a clue what a pilgrimage that is for so many of them.

Because so many people blame you for every single thing that goes wrong in Memphis, I’m going to give you credit here for every good thing that has happened during your mayoral tenure. Your Mayor’s Innovation Team, under your direction, has done wonders for areas like Broad Avenue and Crosstown. Those once-dilapidated, sad places are now so thriving that other cities should be following the revitalization model your team has set forth. While a lot of other people also deserve credit for that, you should certainly take credit, too. The transformations began under your watch. Likewise with Overton Square, one of the best urban success stories in the country right now. Same with the South Main Arts District, Chisca Hotel, Front Street, Soulsville, Beale Street, Cooper Street, and now, finally, hopefully, Clayborn Temple across from the FedExForum. Take credit, Mr. Mayor. A lot of great things have happened in Memphis with you at the helm.

Perhaps the most existentially important things that have happened on your watch are the renaming of the city parks formerly known as Confederate Park, Nathan Bedford Forrest Park, and Jefferson Davis Park, things that baffled those 15 million visitors a year to Memphis — and many of us who live here. That was an awesome accomplishment and proof of progress directed at no longer honoring and paying tribute to slave owners. Yep, it’s that simple.

Which brings me back to my initial question of what you plan to do in these last 10 weeks in office. In the aforementioned newspaper article that declared your mayoral election results a “humiliating loss,” the writer also mentioned that “Everyone’s seen the cranes in Nashville, seen the resurgence so many other cities are enjoying, and wondering why they weren’t seeing enough of it here.”

First off, the reason there are so many cranes in Nashville is that over there they are demolishing historic landmarks as fast as they can to build hideous, generic-looking condominiums. The resurgence of Memphis has been more carefully executed. It’s a bit subtler than Nashville, but then Nashville is more about glitz and glamour.

I would like to see one big crane, though. I remember my heart sort of leaping out of my chest not too long ago, when I read or heard that you, the mayor, personally issued a request that the city remove the statue of Nathan Bedford Forrest that still resides in the park on Union Avenue that used to bear his name. I don’t know what the status of that request is now. The crane I’d like to see before you leave office is the one extracting the statue of Nathan Bedford Forrest from that park and moving it wherever it is most out of view. The park has been renamed, so why not move it? I would give anything if you could pull that off by the time your term is up. I’d be happy to help.

Categories
Style Sessions We Recommend

The Ivory Closet Moves to Overton Square

CREDIT: Photo by Dirk Olsen

Photo by Dirk Olsen

After opening The Attic boutique in Overton Square two years ago, Alexandra Nicole has seen the success of the district grow firsthand. Overton Square has leased a diverse mix of businesses to bring in activity day and night. The increasing foot traffic has been an asset for small retail such as clothing boutiques, especially if they weren’t the first or primary destination for visitors. Sandwiched between busy restaurants, these stores become welcoming ways to pass time as people wait for a table to open at nearby Babalu’s or Lafayette’s.

With her confidence in the great synergy of Overton Square, Alexandra Nicole has leased the 27th and final space for relocation of her first boutique The Ivory Closet from Harbor Town. It became official news last week that Overton Square reached full tenant occupancy. Alexandra, with feedback from her customers, confirmed that the move would not likely lose any business from customers who were Harbor Town residents. Also with this move, The Cedar Room merchandise will merge with the men’s items at the Attic. The Ivory Closet will continue to carry the same lines that vary from the Attic classic women’s apparel but in the new space adjacent to Golden India will take advantage of a larger footprint. They hope to open this location at 2095 Madison this November.

As a side note, Ivory Closet fans can soon find other store locations outside of Memphis. Alexandra is franchising two locations in Mississippi. Details have yet to be revealed.

Special thanks to dirk olsen. Alexandra is photographed in an outfit from The Attic just behind her new location in Overton Square.

Categories
News News Blog

Burglary at Bikram Yoga in Overton Square

Police are looking for this man in connection with a burglary at Bikram Yoga in Overton Square.

Bikram Yoga studio in Overton Square was robbed of $800 last week, and the Memphis Police Department (MPD) is reaching out to citizens to help solve the crime.

Around 11 a.m. on Monday, August 17th, the MPD responded to a burglary call at the hot yoga studio. Earlier, an unknown man had entered the studio while it was still closed and stole $800 worth of property. Video surveillance cameras in the studio captured images of a white man between the ages of 28 and 35, of medium build and with dark, short hair. He was wearing a blue polo shirt, khaki shorts, and flip-flops.

It is unknown how the man gained entry into the business. The MPD is asking those with information to contact the department.

Categories
Letter From The Editor Opinion

Two Trains Running

There’s two, two trains running,

Well, they ain’t never going my way.

One runs at midnight and the other one

Running just ‘fore day. — Muddy Waters

I was sitting in my favorite little neighborhood bar the other night and fell into a conversation with a couple of realtors. They were bemoaning how Midtown was changing. “All we do these days,” one of them said, “is show houses to people from out east — Germantown and Collierville.” The realtors were happy to be selling homes but afraid that the invaders from the east would change the character of Midtown.

“They drive more aggressively. They tear down hedges and put up big security lights,” she said. “Midtown’s a special place, and we don’t want it to become just another ‘burb neighborhood.” But to be honest, for Memphis, that’s a pretty good “problem” to have. And that conversation feeds one of the two central narratives that are driving Memphis these days.

Here’s one: The city is changing for the better. The reinvestment and reinvigoration of Overton Square, Cooper-Young, Broad Avenue, Sears Crosstown; the downtown and Bass Pro Shops boom; the greenlines, bike lanes, the big trees and old houses of the central city, all are luring people back and fueling a renaissance.

Lots of people believe this to be true. I’m one of them. So are those realtors.

But there’s another narrative that also has a lot of adherents. It’s a simple credo, comprised of just one word: Crime. That’s Crime with a capital C. Crime is the most important thing ever, they say. We have to fix crime, or nobody will ever want to live in this hellhole.

You can point out to the Crime People that crime rates have been falling for eight years. They will respond by telling you that the statistics are rigged. They will tell you that five people got shot last weekend and ask, “How can crime be going down?” They will cite local television news, which will give you all the crime you can handle on a nightly basis. Telling someone whose car has been stolen that crime is going down is like trying to explain to someone who’s freezing that global warming is a problem. It doesn’t matter.

So we have two trains running. Two ways of looking at our city. Two trains that both carry some truth. Crime in Memphis is a big problem, as it is in lots of cities. We need to keep trying to fix it — by improving our education system, by working to bring in more jobs, by using smarter policing. But to focus on crime to the exclusion of the other narrative is wrong and does a disservice to all of us living here and working to keep Memphis vibrant.

I’ve lived here 23 years, and I’ve seen a transformation, especially over the past few years. There is a momentum that’s real right now. We need to keep that train running.

And derail the other one.

Categories
Letters To The Editor Opinion

What They Said (July 16, 2015) …

CREDIT: Greg Cravens

Greg Cravens

About Bianca Phillips’ post, “Council Committee Agrees on Relocating Forrest Statue and Remains” …

Absolutely appalling and barbaric. May the Memphis council rot in hell.

Jack Spencer

Ah, to see all the whiney little neo-Confederates and their defenders being made to feel so sad that their homages to treason and racism are being called out for exactly what they are: bad history. I mean, why other than to honor a “great American patriot” would a bust of Jefferson Davis be erected in a Memphis park in 1964?

Kilgore Trout

I am afeared of black people, once this statue is removed. His stern visage is all that has kept them at bay. See what happens when you give them the vote.

This Belle

I can understand why black people dislike who this man was. Absolutely. But the war was over 150 years ago. This is a part of our history. Not a pretty part, yet a part nonetheless. And until the Democrat Party, the political party of slavery, the KKK, and Jim Crow laws, the party that fought all the way to the 1960s against civil rights for blacks, is disbanded, then I disagree with digging up the bones of a dead person, no matter who he was.

How can blacks claim to be offended by something in the public when the Democrat Party continues to this day in politics, in government, in making the laws and rules they live under? This same party had a former member of the KKK in the Senate until he retired just a few years ago.

Yet, instead, the people are ranting about a pile of bones under a statue hardly anyone sees or hears about? Shame on all of you. How stupid and appalling. Kim Anglebrandt

There are few things that fascinate me more than clingy Confederate idolators waving the Stars and Bars and telling black folks to get over their ancient history.

Chris Davis

About Frank Murtaugh’s post, “Austin Nichols/Marc Gasol: It’s About Relationships” …

Nichols’ departure is not exactly a surprise. Although I live in Nashville, I still try to catch every televised Memphis Tiger basketball (and football) game. It’s not easy up here in Vandyland.

Back to Nichols. Most Tiger fans could see the curtain falling toward the end of the season. Nichols’ season-ending injury was bad timing, for sure. But there is just something not right with the Memphis program.

I’ve read the rants and the praises of Coach Pastner. Most coaches only dream of the talent Josh has snagged the last six years. But when a talent like Tarik Black bails for Kansas, the blame goes to the top. Pastner is a class act and represents the university well. He had big shoes to fill and almost bigger expectations. I think it has been the culmination of disappointment, disillusion (among certain players), and (dare I say it) the shrinking appeal of Tiger basketball. Something has got to give.

Paul Scates

About Bianca Phillips’ post, “Ballet Memphis Overton Square Design Plans Revealed” …

I just wanted to comment on the fact that a hotel will not be moving into the space occupied by French Quarter Inn in Overton Square. As a Midtowner in the 1970s who enjoyed the heyday of the area, I have been thrilled with the amazing resurgence. I was disappointed to find out the space would be used as a school for Ballet Memphis. It is an excellent organization and I do appreciate the theater/arts expansion in the area, but it seems like they could find a more appropriate Midtown space for a largely non-public building.

That corner is so high-profile in terms of attracting tourists and Memphians to enjoy the shopping, music, and restaurants. So much is just right there at the doorstep in Overton Square. The walk to our fantastic Levitt Shell, Memphis Brooks Museum, the original Huey’s, Shangri-La Records, and our Memphis Zoo would be so easy for tourists who do not have cars.

A hotel is desperately needed in the area. People are interested in Midtown, so let’s give them a nice place to stay!

Edith Davis