south main and southern charm

memphis is my home.

Here's a post that starts  with the shirt I wore to this grizzlies game and then ends with how much i love this city. 

I was on a mission to buy a shirt that I saw someone wearing at chiwawa. The nice fella sent me to sache on south main. First of all, super nice folks. They didn't have my size, so they printed one for me (and the other 20 people in there).

please see: i'll be yo ass shirt.

[Then, long story short-I got a $5 ticket to the game]

I changed out of my regular clothes into, now, MY badass t-shirt for the game. I had at least 15 people ask where I got the shirt and 5 who took my photo. It’s quite complimentary but mostly awkward when someone asks to take a photo of me, but they go straight for the shirt and not my face. 

Needless to say,  I was feeling really cool that day. I had this awesome new shirt, throwback hat, and obviously, a gold chain. I had a friend who lived out of town asking about this shirt. So... she had one immediately shipped to her in Colorado. Reppin' y'all. 

The crowds at the Grizzlies games consist of overly excited but considerate, dancing adults spilling beers in one hand while holding his trophy something with the other. Women dress appropriately in team colors and personal flare: some in yellow jeans, blue tops, and pearls, and others in  high strappy high heels and a belted Gasol jersey worn as a dress. 

  Here's a badass screen shot of my sweet friend
Augusta caught in her headress screaming her excitement in Tony Allen's face.  

There’s the muscle bearing, cut off shirt wearing, badass shoes strutters who mostly meander around the FedEx Forum during the game and when it's time to sit-- they hold a handsome, focused stare at the Grizz girls on the floor bouncing with their curls and glitter high-tops. And then closer to the ground are tiny humans with headbands around their necks because it acts as a neck-bib for the melting ice cream they've got their fingers curled around.  It’s so great that these LITTLE TINY HUMANS and their teeny tiny pig tails with their teeny tiny Nikes attend the games. Proudly sitting in the nosebleeds, you'll find my favorite dappered gents in their beautifully tailored suits with matching bow ties and pocket squares. AND THEN there are folks completely out of the woodworks to show their babies, blues, and yellows for the Grizz while you think to yourself “FOR REAL, where.did.you.come.from?"

Anyway, I know where I came from. (I just sang that out like that J-Lo)

 I came from the Philippines.

...

However, Memphis is my home. It's where the degree of separation is negative two. You can't go to the gas station without seeing your neighbor's sister-in-law who never stops talking or your best friend's car repair guy who you've been meaning to call or my personal favorite: the guy with the untied shoes from freshman college public speaking class who carried a briefcase with nothing in it but chick-fil-a minis. (or whoever this may be for you.)

 It's the land of the free Levitt Shell shows and home of the brave when you accidentally make a wrong turn on a street named after a state. It's just so good. I love the way people  say "please, thank you, and exxxxcuseee ME" with a snap. And they'll say "Bless you" after every sneeze. Just a little taste of southern charm.

Great season, Grizz. This team represents the Memphis team. All of us. Everywhere.

All day. Everyday. Forever. And Ever.

Amen.

p.s.  There's a south main trolley tour every last Friday of the month. Wear your walking shoes and bring a to-go cup. You'll find open art gallery doors, side street musicians and an exploration of what downtown Memphis away from Beale St.