4

No, I don't live here.
Susan's year in Memphis

I try to be a good person, because if I am, maybe when I die I can go to Memphis. For now I just settle for the occasional visits, and this little article is to let y'all know why I found it necessary to head on out there so many durn times this past year.

MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND 1997

Along with my sister Margaret and our running buddy Andrea, we set out to witness the Memphis premiere of Mike McCarthy's feature film, The Sore Losers. You might have read about this little juvie/nudie opus in last year's GW#5, in which I played a stripper/succubus. Well, we couldn't miss the gala premiere, which ended up being in some typically shady locale, a loft in deserted downtown Memphis that doubled as the home of this guy Reed. He'd decided to throw a big party in the part he didn't live in and strung up a big screen to project the flick on.

Before the movie, we were entertained by some suspiciously stagy live "prank" phone calls. They were so staged that Andrea got to participate in them the following night when we inadvertently found ourselves at the receiving end of these "prank" calls, the home of David Dunlap. After the movie, a bunch of music was played, the best of which came from Scott Bomar and Jack Yarber's impromptu combo. In fact, us three Texas girls were inspired by those sexy Memphis grooves (and the Sam Smith's Oatmeal Stout we drank) to climb up on a table behind the projection screen and provide a little shadow dancing as part of the evening''s entertainment. Talk about an ideal setup — they gave us a band, a stable dancing surface, a screen and 2,000 watts of light all there so we could amuse ourselves. We were already dressed up like a bunch of hook—exuberant, self-confidently sexual young women. Man, we were so exuberant that we danced through almost an entire '68 Comeback set! And that's a long

No, I don't live here.
Susan's year in Memphis

I try to be a good person, because if I am, maybe when I die I can go to Memphis. For now I just settle for the occasional visits, and this little article is to let y'all know why I found it necessary to head on out there so many durn times this past year.

MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND 1997

Along with my sister Margaret and our running buddy Andrea, we set out to witness the Memphis premiere of Mike McCarthy's feature film, The Sore Losers. You might have read about this little juvie/nudie opus in last year's GW#5, in which I played a stripper/succubus. Well, we couldn't miss the gala premiere, which ended up being in some typically shady locale, a loft in deserted downtown Memphis that doubled as the home of this guy Reed. He'd decided to throw a big party in the part he didn't live in and strung up a big screen to project the flick on.

Before the movie, we were entertained by some suspiciously stagy live "prank" phone calls. They were so staged that Andrea got to participate in them the following night when we inadvertently found ourselves at the receiving end of these "prank" calls, the home of David Dunlap. After the movie, a bunch of music was played, the best of which came from Scott Bomar and Jack Yarber's impromptu combo. In fact, us three Texas girls were inspired by those sexy Memphis grooves (and the Sam Smith's Oatmeal Stout we drank) to climb up on a table behind the projection screen and provide a little shadow dancing as part of the evening''s entertainment. Talk about an ideal setup — they gave us a band, a stable dancing surface, a screen and 2,000 watts of light all there so we could amuse ourselves. We were already dressed up like a bunch of hook—exuberant, self-confidently sexual young women. Man, we were so exuberant that we danced through almost an entire '68 Comeback set! And that's a long