
by John Branston
eady or not,
Memphis is about to become a national story.
This is due to two things. One is a harmonic convergence of historic events. In the next nine months, the city will mark the arrival of the National Football League, the 20th anniversary of the death of Elvis Presley, and the 30th anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr.
The
second reason is that these days, old news is news. It's more interesting,
and the visuals are better.
Like relatives, reporters don't always arrive when you want them to. But arrive they will. Football reporters from 10 "real" NFL cities will be here from August to December to size up the new kid. Elvis Week will bring music writers and experts on popular culture with theories that link Elvis to feminism, chauvinism, and the sinking of the Titanic. The revision and counter-revision of the King assassination is already in full swing.
All of the scribes and sages will have their laptops and cameras. And many will be working under orders or internal compulsion to do a Thumb Sucker -- a story in which the reporter sticks a wet finger in the wind, hauls out the old news clips, interviews some local icons, and takes the temperature of a place. The recent history of Memphis is about to be probed, rehashed, explored, and laid bare. The job often must be done under deadline pressure, in 1,500 words or less, and in near total ignorance of the city because it is a tenet of journalism that reporters must become experts on all things after spending two days in a place.
As a professional service, and as a sort of preview for our readers, the following are certified, acceptable, Grade-A phrases for stories about Memphis. One selection from each category may -- make that must -- be used in any and all true Thumb Suckers about Memphis.
Dateline: the mighty Mississippi, the crossroads of America, the banks of Old Man River.
Obligatory "then" characterization: decaying river town, sleepy Southern backwater, perennial also-ran.
Obligatory condescending pat on the back: Liberty Bowl Stadium has character, Graceland tour really is fascinating, barbecue capital of the world.
Obligatory musical reference: Memphis rocks to a bluesy beat, Memphis moves to a funky beat, Memphis swings to a soulful sound.
Obligatory quaint Memphis custom: march of the Peabody ducks, annual candelight vigil at Graceland, people are crazy about barbecue.
Cause of city's pain: an assassin's deadly bullet, the fabled singer's untimely death, years of rejection by the big leagues.
Indication of change for the better: election of a black mayor, faithful Graceland visitors as normal people, spunky college football team beats UT.
Symbol of rebirth: bustling Beale Street, bustling FedEx hub during The Sort, bustling lobby of the grand old Peabody hotel.
Nevertheless, progress pales in comparison to: booming Nashville, booming Atlanta, booming Tunica.
"Most" Memphians view the Oilers' two-year layover as a: bitter pill, bittersweet consolation prize, exciting taste of the big time.
"Most" Memphians view members of the (black or white) race with: distrust and hostility, guarded respect, Southern hospitality.
"Most" Memphians view Elvis as: a local boy who made good, nostalgia, more relevant today than he was 20 years ago.
Memphis grapples with: a minor-league image, an inferiority complex, racial strife.
Painful Memphis memory that can never be blotted out: the legacy of racial strife, the fabled singer's bloated condition, the numerous failed sports franchises.
The story's greater significance is as a reminder of one city's: dream deferred, smashed hopes, lost innocence.
The story lives anew because of sensational new accusations about: Priscilla Presley, Raoul, Bud Adams.
Perhaps in some small, uplifting way the story can: bring blacks and whites together, bring generations together, bring rival Tennessee cities together.
If so, what a fitting tribute that would be to the: martyred civil-rights leader, fabled King of Rock-and-Roll, plucky underdog.
Indeed, the city's spirit is as timeless as: the mighty Mississippi itself, Old Man River, the eternal flame.
(John Branston is editorial director/special projects for Contemporary Media, the parent company of The Memphis Flyer and Memphis magazine.)