Actually, I did little to no walking in Memphis. That’s because I was in greater metropolitan Memphis, such as it is, at FedEx’s headquarters at the intersection of two major highways. FedEx’s centre of world shipping domination is situated on South Shady Grove Road. In the true manner of all suburban street naming subterfuge, it is neither shady nor a grove of any kind. FedEx HQ takes up a gazillion acres of what was probably swamp land, much like a corporate Disney World.
Unfortunately, fine dining is not an option in FedEx world, yet another similarity to Mr. Disney’s creation. In the environs of our hotel, the most palatable options were Olive Garden and Pizza Hut, which may be good news if you seek to experience the culinary heights of Grand Forks, North Dakota. It seems decidedly odd that faux Italian trumps barbeque in the land of grits and moonshine.
In order to rescue us from the food wasteland, our client took us to what passes for ‘upscale’ in outer Memphis. This turned out to be a restaurant in a small strip mall, specializing in Italian food. We are talking checked table cloths covering up arborite table tops of dubious provenance, chairs that would be happy at any Italian banquet hall, and replica (or scratch that, probably relics of the 1960s) Chianti bottles with the requisite red candles and the evidence of all previous candles from past decades. It kind of reminded me of the episode of the Sopranos where Tony and his entourage go to Italy, believing that as fourth generation Americans they share some affinity of shared homeland with real live Italians. You know, the ones who would not dream of putting cheese on linguine with clams and who eat a small amount of pasta before the simple main course of a piece of protein and whatever vegetables are in season.
So now you know not visit Memphis for the food. Unless you choose to dine at the airport, which actually has a half decent barbeque joint that is even more appreciated since it is after you pass through security. Another thing you should take note of is that Graceland is closed on Tuesdays in the ‘off season’. I’m not quite sure how the fine folks who preserve the shrine of Elvis define the slower season of supplicants, but it certainly corresponded with our visit and of course also with the one day we were not called upon to impart our great wisdom to FedEx.
I think perhaps FedEx needs to lighten up on the self effacing image it seems to cultivate. Several years before my visit to the great Mecca of all things courier, I had the chance to go to Akron, Ohio, previously only familiar to me via the Pretenders who pretty much said everything there is to say about the place. Anyhow, this is the location of the top secret headquarters of a little known division of FedEx called Custom Critical. This is the division that specializes in the ‘mission impossible’ genre of shipping. This is who Brad Pitt contacts (okay, not really him but one of his no doubt many personal assistants) when Angelina is stuck in Africa without her suitcase and desperately needs him to send her a gown suitable for dining with a dictator in time for cocktail hour in Namibia when it is already 6pm in L.A.
Custom Critical is, of course, located in a non-descript strip mall in greater metropolitan Akron. There are no signs on the building and you have to phone a secret number to announce your arrival. I am pretty sure everyone I interviewed used a pseudonym. And just to complete our culinary tour of FedEx locations, the sole dining option is a place called the Country Kitchen with a very well attended early bird special. It is neither particularly country nor much of a kitchen. I stuck to the grilled cheese sandwich (on white bread) with fries that were cooked somewhere far away and a very long time ago. But I digress. I am pretty sure I overheard a conversation between a Custom Critical employee and Pricilla Presley, who needed some barbeque shipped from Mobile, Alabama to her current location in Memphis. I could have interrupted to let her know that if she flew on public airlines she could have just picked it up at her arrival gate. But then they probably would have had to kill me.