Alabama Excursion - Part 2

In Monroeville, Alabama...home of author Harper Lee and Truman Capote, it is a sin to kill a mockingbird. It is not, however, a sin to think that every little gray-haired lady that crosses your path is Harper Lee herself. (is that sort of like so many years of bad luck? I hope it's not 50 since this is the 50th anniversary!)

We arrived in Monroeville (a.k.a. Maycomb) at about 6:30pm with no brisk hotel check-in. Apparently Expedia and Days Inn of Monroeville do not communicate well. After dinner, we relaxed in our room and I tried to be strong and not rip any pages out of the phone book as souvenirs. Alas, I did not come home with the page of L's from the Yellow Pages.

I was eager to get into town the next morning. We headed straight for the courthouse and were surprised that we were, in fact, the only visitors! We had the courthouse all to ourselves! We took picture after picture of the courtroom. You would have thought my husband was a professional photographer as many ways as he had me posing at the judge's bench. As I was taking a gander at Truman Capote's typewriter, I saw a short gray haired lady stomp into an office a few feet away. I thought I was going to have an "episode" for I thought that this woman was Harper Lee (or Nelle, as locals call her). The resemblance was uncanny. I was NOT trying to convince myself that every elderly lady in town was a famous author, but this woman could have been Nelle's twin. A couple walking through the building stopped and spoke to the lady, about town goings ons and I later asked them if that was actually Harper Lee. After a little stumbling around, they told me no, that Harper was in an assisted living facility in town. I was bummed but have found myself analyzing the photos I snapped quickly of the older lady in the office since I returned from the trip. Maybe she and Elvis are hanging out somewhere having coffee.

Of course I bought enough souvenirs it felt as if I were carrying around a bag full of bricks. We bought books at the Beehive book shop in the square and had buffet lunch at the Mockingbird Grill (your quintessential small town diner). On the way out of town I took photos of the rock wall dividing what was once the Lee property and the Faulk property (Capote's aunts lived here). You can now buy ice cream at a place called Mel's Dairy Dream, directly on the spot that the Lee family called home. On a lucky day, you can even catch Nelle's sister Alice in her pant suit and tennis shoes going into work, a lawyer at age 98.

Alabama Excursion - Part 1

So...I lived in Montgomery, Alabama for a few years. Had my daughter at Baptist Hospital and even met one of the best friends my family has ever had (we all moved away together). One weekend when my mom came to visit, we toured the F.Scott & Zelda Fitzgerald house in the old Cloverdale neighborhood of Montgomery. Zelda had family there and, according to my grandmother-in-law who had family in the same area, threw lavish parties that were the talk of the town.

5 or so years later, the photographs that I took of the Fitzgerald house had still not surfaced in my home. I do not remember ever downloading or developing anything remotely similar. Now, during my first visit to Montgomery since moving to the Pelican State, one of the first things I do (aside from being a bit glum after discovering that our favorite restaurants have closed up shop), is drive into old Cloverdale (near the historic Huntingdon College where To Kill A Mockingbird's Harper Lee went to college for a time) to replace the photographs that I did or did not take. We did not take another tour, but I had fun traipsing throughout the yard, taking snap shots of various angles of the home, now museum.

If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, again. OR scream in rage and hurl copies of The Cantos, I find that works equally well.” - Ernest Hemingway

Today, July 21st, is the great Ernest Hemingway's 111th birthday. I seem to have a love-hate relationship with this brilliant, yet tragic composer....composer of books, that is. I remember having to pick a book in high school to do a report on and in trying to impress my teacher, I chose to read and write about For Whom The Bell Tolls. Not the best choice. I hated the book. I was not wise enough in my years to understand such an intense story. Of course I struggled through and wrote my report. For the next assignment I chose Faulkner's Light In August. I should have really stopped trying to impress people, for I disliked that one as well.

The greatest hunt in life is the hunt for truth and knowledge. Also, my trousers. BLAST! I cannot find them.” - Ernest Hemingway

Today I learned that sometimes an elephant-gun is just too much gun, especially when not hunting elephants. Poor goldfish.” *sigh. - Ernest Hemingway

In college, however, I bought a copy of A Moveable Feast. I had been intimidated to pick up another Hemingway novel after I was burned the first time, and I will admit, it was a movie that enticed me to try and try again. This book, I found, was in a category all of its own. I had never read a book that allowed me to almost smell the scents of a Paris bakery, feel the disappointment of having to live in a tiny, one room apartment in one of the glorious cities in the world. I could taste the fresh bread, I could feel the beads of red wine upon my tongue. It was truly sensory overload. And it is a book that I will always keep dear to my heart.

"You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintery light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person died for no reason." - A Moveable Feast

Fun, Fantastic Read

Recently while checking my email, I got Square Books in Oxford, Mississippi's weekly newsletter. In it was an announcement of Southern author M.O. Walsh's upcoming book signing in the store of his newest book The Prospect of Magic: Stories. The synopsis sounded interesting, so I immediately ordered a signed copy to be delivered to my house after the event. I am SO glad that I did. The Prospect of Magic is light and deep at the same time and can be read from front to back in a single sitting (just because it's hard to put it down even to get a drink or go to the restroom, much less sleep). Walsh is a Baton Rouge native who imagined what it would be like if a travelling circus got stranded in small town Louisiana after the death of their ring master. What would the carnies do then? Would they get regular jobs or become the freaks of the town? In my opinion, this book of magical stories (pun intended) is destined to become a classic in Southern literature.