Central BBQ - A little slice of heaven

A friend of mine asked me what I miss about Memphis.  My knee-jerk reaction is always, “Nothing!” but that’s not really true.  There are several thinks I miss about the city that was my home for nearly 15 years.

First and foremost, I miss my friends and my sister.  I left behind a bunch of people who mean a lot to me.  I’m keeping up on Facebook and with phone calls, but it isn’t the same.  There are no more fun lunches, group trips to the movies, or late night poker games.  I have R, K, and E here in Pittsburgh and have fun together, but they are pretty much it.  I’m forming good relationships at work, but so far, there’s no one to phone up on Saturday to meet for drinks.

I miss good barbeque.  Anyone who has ever lived in an area known for its ‘que knows what I mean.  Even the cheapy drive-through sandwiches at Tops are superior to most of the stuff around here – not that there’s much available.  We didn’t eat it often, because barbeque can be mighty filling, but it was soooo nice to be able to trot over to Central BBQ and get a half rack (wet) with greens and mac ‘n cheese.  If we left town for any period of time, it was almost always the first place we went when we got home.  Many Memphians prefer Rendezvous or Corky’s, but I don’t think they can beat Central.  Though I must say, Interstate and Neely’s are both good choices too.

Of course, I miss my house.  We had tons of room to stretch out in and a fenced backyard so I didn’t have to walk the dogs.  We had privacy and a hot tub.  It was good. 

But you know what?  That’s about it.  I don’t miss dealing with tenants.  I am not crying over the last job I had.  I haven’t looked back fondly on the poverty, ignorance, racism (from all sides) political idiocy, or the humidity you can swim through.  My home was wonderful, but it had become more of a worry than an asset. 

Mostly, I miss the freedom that was my life in Memphis.  But that freedom went away when my business and my money were lost and left only a town where I couldn’t see myself recovering.  I don’t think I could have started over if I stayed in Memphis.  I was so intent on trying to keep the status quo that I couldn’t dream of going in any other direction.  Picking up and leaving was bloody scary, but it had to be done. 

Moving gave Alex and I a different kind of freedom; the freedom to pursue what we needed to do to keep ourselves afloat.  We had to cut ties in order to progress, as tough as that may have been.  Even now, while we’re trying to build a life here in Pittsburgh, we know that we can go anywhere else if we want or need to.  Alex is still applying for jobs elsewhere, and I’m looking into grad schools all over the country.      

Not everyone can pull up their roots and move when their situation changes, but we had to get out or we would have drowned trying to save something that couldn’t be recovered.  Remaining somewhere that had become a very unhappy place despite the friends, family and barbeque would have left us bitter and hopeless.  We’re still poor and homeless, but at least we’ve got hope and a decent attitude.

Kris Kristofferson’s famous lyric, “freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose,” keeps coming back to me right now.  Losing everything allowed – if not pushed – us into leaving the comfort of the status quo and moving on to something that is (hopefully) better for us.  It became the freedom of choice that we didn’t feel we had before.

I miss people, I miss food, I miss convenience and comfort.  I miss circumstances, but honestly, not a particular place.