Piggly Wiggly, Moo Museum and Zelda

Today was interesting. We went back into Birmingham this morning. We still like the city. It was… lively, bright friendly. We passed some places I knew where here, but forgot about: Ebsco has a headquarters here. A nice bland brick building. There is a huge FBI center here too - they have a large fancy building. I remember 100 years ago when I talked to the FBI recruiter, Birmingham was one of the “nice” places he said one could end up. Probably good that at the time I thought - Birmingham? Nice? If I’d known I’d have liked the place who knows where I would’ve ended up??

Even it’s lesser sections of Birmingham seem to have … hope. Unfortunately, much of the touristy stuff was closed because it was Monday, still we commenced our tour of tragic civil rights locations …

We saw the 16th street church. It’s very much downtown. Maybe it wasn’t when they bombed, but I doubt it. Now it’s nice as churches here go and the MLK center sits across from it. Churches here are more than a dime a doz. One cannot go 1/8 of mile without seeing at least a half dozen. All Baptist or some variation on that theme. I’ve seen no Catholic church, no synagogue, heavens no mosque or witch shop!

We drove in to the ‘burbs to see a plantation house. It was just the house not the whole deal. This was open, but we didn’t go in. (Sorry, seeing old furniture does nothing for me,) It was interesting though to see this fairly grand house, gardened and fenced in, looking quintessentially Southern in a neighborhood that was at best poor. Across the street was what us Northerners would call public assistance housing and it looked much like Bridgeport or in kind areas: low brick barrack like apartments, with too many kids, dogs an old cars. A place you wouldn’t walk thru at night… Though it didn’t look as “rough” as Bridgeport. Perhaps this is regional bias - I KNOW Bridgeport, maybe I have illusions here but I didn’t see street corner drug deals, obviously hot cars etc. Much to M’s dismay, I always see that sort of thing. (Once a criminologist, always a criminologist. I can’t run but not hide.) Still, the “bad neighborhood” may not have been horrible but it was striking. And sad.

We then headed south. More dead armadillos (I’ve not given up hope on seeing a live one, but I am less optimistic.) Are they like opossums? Mostly nocturnal? If I remember long enough I’ll look that up. So, my quest to see the side of the road (living) armadillo lead me to see lots of nice Spanish moss. It’s got such great gothic sensibility!

For lunch we saw a giant peach (okay it was a water tower not a ufo - yes I have a picture) and soon after a sign for farm stand. So, we stopped at a stand at a Pecan farm! (they sold peaches too, so it wasn’t AS weird as this sounds, but close.) Turned out they did ‘lunch’ and M. must’ve been hungry or thinking I was (must feed the bears you know) and agreed to eat there. Now, when we tell people that Suzy will eat anything off the side of the road, we speak 100% truth., It was… interesting.

Ya know, outside of horror - I like reading Southern fiction., (Maybe Southern fiction IS horror? And there is a train of thought here…) And reading and tv and all, I’ve heard of pimento cheese sandwiches. Yes, y’all know what’s coming, so if you have a weak stomach - skip to the next paragraph. So, the menu said, ’homemade” pimento cheese sandwich! When in Rome and honestly, when would I ever get this chance? And pimento is good in olives… Okay. You know how up north there is the pimento loaf (and you don’t eat it)…. Yup, you getting a full picture. It was…. Well, at least it wasn’t vile. And it tasted better than it looked, which is really a statement about what it looked like. I mean, I have eaten worse and I did choke down most of it. And I can say with 100% confidence I will never eat it again. It was better than the potato salad than came with. Though to be fair about the pot salad - the waitress did say she didn’t like it, and I didn’t listen. (Note: if a waitress suggests you get the chips - do it.) M. of course was sensible and got safe food. (wimp - of course he doesn‘t ever get pain either)

So, since lunch was so… different, we had to get some fresh pecans. Wow. I thought they made up for lunch. M. learned that he doesn’t like pecan pie for more reasons than too much sugar. That’s fine. I can eat them all… or ship them home? Can’t bring food on the plane can we? So, we arrive in Montgomery. Montgomery is NOT Birmingham. I could happily live in Birmingham. Montgomery is the South. Friendly my… I’d take a New Yorker any day., New Yorkers are truly friendly, but not out going. They don’t get in your face. They don’t try to talk to you so you know they are there seeing you. But if you talk to them, they are nice and give you an answer.

Southern friendly is different. They talk to you - sure. But they don’t like you. They are talking to you, so you know they are there and that they see you and that they know you know they see you and they don’t like you.

Montgomery is not a hopeful or pretty city. I’d blame it on being a state capital, but Boston is nice and that’s a capital city. Even Albany isn’t that bad. Montgomery is mostly run down, tired, cold and like it’s already given up. It reminded me of New London at first - but even New London is trying. Montgomery is just… existing. I had no desire to stay or ever go back. But we did see something interesting things… the Confederate White House. (Northern Bias: I’m glad we won.) After driving ALL over creation and some nice residential neighborhood we found Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald’s’ house. It was actually more pedestrian that I would have thought from her. But then she was born and raised here… No wonder she was crazy. It held no special appeal nor did MLK’s house, but it was nice to see it.

The highlight of Montgomery and what, in my opinion, certainly made the trip was the Alabama Cattleman’s Association’s Moo Museum. Of course, it assures us, that it includes cattlewomen too. Disturbing - cows are in crayolas, turtle wax, brake fluid… the wallpaper of little tiny steaks was cool too. For this… the pictures are probably worth 1000 words.

Trying to top the Moo Museum (as if we could?) we headed toward Alabama Old Town - a living history museum by description. As one who grew up on Mystic Seaport and Sturbridge Village… um… Despite a very nice man who literally came running out of the admissions area to tell us about the place and direct us the two blocks back to the place we could buy tickets to enter the area of 4 buildings we could see over the fence, it was lacking.

We decided to go to the “museum” and admissions building to see if there were postcards and assess if perhaps we were missing something? We weren’t. And we declined the 16$ admission fee. BUT the admission building happened to be having quilt show which was really cool. The show was hand stitched quilts (mostly traditional) and paper cutting pictures done by a Korean woman who lives in Montgomery. (Poor thing. Asian ethic does not seem… well, existent here.) The signage says she offers free lessons to other Korean woman here who are laid up sick. Okay, writing this… that seems a little weird. But anyway, the work was really neat to see.

Since Montgomery wasn’t holding us we headed West to Selma. Following the route of the march. It was impressive if you think about walking it, in the heat and probably with people with a lot of hostility along the way. I suppose the one positive thing… it was fairly flat… but …gesh.

As a tourist it offered trees draped with Spanish moss, a school bus painted with scriptures (sorry, wasn’t quick enough with the camera for that one) and cotton fields. Once we passed what I am sure was an old plantation like farm: there was a low ranch like house - not fancy, but larger than typical two bed room would look and behind it, about 900 yards was another house. It looked like a duplex, but was much smaller - like each half probably had two rooms. It was even now, more run down than the main house - and that was something. Off a ways to the left of these two structures was a barn. In part I was reminded of summer camps - but this was like it was designed for only 2 campers. It was unpleasant. Perhaps all of this is supposition? Perhaps this glimpse of a house off the side of the road was something else… what we might call an in law structure? I don’t believe it though.

The road to Selma was long, flat, and stereotypical south - what a Northerner would think of: trailers, a gas station now and again. A small run down house with a pick up truck it’s bed full of watermelons for sale. Long driveways to ranches. (The cattlemen’s association informs us that there are more cows here than in western states and isn’t it nice that the association helps the farmers not only with supporting laws that help them, but with help and tips for the farm. Yes, sir. Can you say LOBBYIST boys and girls? Eat beef!)

The route looked hot, uncomfortable and poor.

And now we are in Selma. Like most old places it is a sad mix of old Main Street and the new strip, hello and thank you for shopping at Walmart. Two girls - one pretty but mean in her hand me down dress and one ugly but all dolled up and not realizing she looks like a hooker. Is that too harsh?

I’m glad to see Selma. It is like I imagine it. There is nothing here I’ll miss and I don’t feel the need to come back