JUKE JOINT TOUR 2007

Hi all. We understand you can't see some of the videos. It's a problem with the Fliqz hosting site - it should be resolved soon (we hope) so keep checkin' back. If they don't reappear, we'll see if we can figure out a Plan B.

We're safe and sound in Greenville. We actually cruised through Greenville and headed south, travelling all the way to Lake Providence, Louisiana, our furthest point south. After that, everything is northward bound, towards home.

Had some EXTREMELY hot wings at a nice little place along the lake, on a deck overlooking Lake Providence, which is kind of a part of the Mississippi River. Had a couple of cold ones to wash it down. We couldn't finish them all - those Cajuns know hot sauce! Wow!

At any rate, we back-tracked to Greenville, and are now at the Comfort Inn downtown. We had a nice swim in the pool and are gearing up for tonight's entertainment, which is within walking distance. The Mississippi All-Stars are performing at the Walnut Street Blues Club. It will be tough to beat the Po' Monkey experience, but we'll try!

There are certain moments in life when it hits you suddenly, like a ton of bricks -- what's happening to me now is unique, and will probably never happen again. That's the way we felt yesterday in rural Merigold, Mississippi, near Cleveland, thanks to Mr. Willie Seaberry, world-famous proprietor of Po' Monkey's Lounge. World famous? You bet - check out this article (CLICK HERE) in the New York Times about Seaberry and his little establishment.

We drove to Po' Monkey's later in the afternoon, just to see if we could find it while it was still daylight. It was deserted - at the end of a long, lonely stretch of gravel road, well off the main highway. A flimsy sharecropper's shack, literally on the edge of a vast cotton field. Out in the middle of nowhere! We got out of the car and took pictures, and that's when it happened! Later, Dennie confided to me that he had sold his soul at the Crossroads in Clarksdale, and now, magically, could play the harmonica like Big George Brock himself! Don't believe it? Check out the evidence...

After Dennie's amazing performance, who should arrive but Willie Seaberry himself, just home from his day job driving tractor. Talk about a friendly, warm welcome! Even though he technically wasn't open for business, he welcomed us in anyway, sold us a couple of inexpensive cans of beer (he pointed Dennie to the fridge and let him serve himself! Talk about trusting!). Willie acted like we were long-lost friends. He is clearly having fun with his newfound fame, and has the picture albums to prove it, which he proudly showed us, page by page. Of course, t-shirts were for sale, and we each bought one, wearing them to the club when we returned later that evening. The shirts were in a box on his bed (his living quarters are just off the dance floor), and he told us to sort through the pile and find our size.

Of course, toy monkeys hanging everywhere. The decor was "Early Visqueen" - very low-scale, nothing fancy anywhere. Had to duck your head at times to get from one little room to the next. An absolutely one-of-a-kind place.

CLICK HERE to see photos.

We came back around 8:30, when the DJ started to play, and by the time we left, after midnight, the place was pretty much packed. We were among just a handful of white folks present - most were hardworking blacks, letting their hair down after a hard day's work, enjoying each others company. The music was great, and the dance floor was busy. Dennie and I played several games of pool on the shakey, worn-out table - the floor of the club was so flimsy that the balls on the table would shake in time with the music and dancer's feet. Didn't hurt Dennie's game any - he cleaned my clock three games, and even beat a local before finally giving it up.

Seaberry treated us like honored guests. He kept bringing folks up to us to introduce us, even a fellow shooting a documentary film out of Memphis. A gal who looked 40 was actually celebrating her 66th birthday, and platefuls of food were brought out for Dennie and I so we could help them celebrate. Willie gave us a couple of beers on the house. The reception was nothing short of amazing. It was one of the most interesting and unique experiences either Dennie or I have ever had. Willie Seaberry sells beer, but he gives away happiness, and we left happy.

It was a short trip to Cleveland, only about 50 miles. We took the scenic route, meandering through small towns on 2-lane blacktop. Unfortunately, we had rain this morning, as you can see from the video. We still managed to see some interesting things, including the Shackup Inn outside Clarksdale. These enterprising folks turn old sharecropper shacks into a little hotel. You can rent a shack for the night for reasonable rates. They have all the amenities, but we don't think we could convince our wives to stay there. It might be a bit too "rustic" for them! They let us look through one of the shacks and walk around, and there were lots of neat things to see, including an old gas pump frozen at 49 cents a gallon! By the way, how much are you paying for gas up there? It's about 2.50 / gallon down here - definitely cheaper.

At any rate, we are safe and sound at the Comfort Inn in Cleveland, home of Delta State University. Po' Monkey's tonight - it might be the most authentic juke joint we find on this trip. Wish us luck!

The road sign says it all - Clarksdale is considered birthplace of the blues - it was literally where many famous bluesmen were born and raised. The unique road sign above is at the crossroads of Highways 61 & 49, where legend says Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil to be able to play as wonderfully as he did.

Clarksdale seems like a classic sleepy southern small town, much like you'd find in Iowa. The people are very friendly, but a little hard to understand to our Northern ears!

The main attraction here these days is the Ground Zero Blues Club, co-owned by actor Morgan Freeman, who's home is nearby in Charleston. Too bad he wasn't in town yesterday - they say he will probably show up next week. When he's in town he likes to eat at his upscale restaurant downtown (Madidi's) and then head over to the club down the street. Ground Zero, named because of Clarksdale's role as the hub of the blues, was designed to replicate the look of the old fashioned juke joint. Run-down, ripped furniture sitting out front, plywood floors. Nothing fancy anywhere, but the place oozed atmosphere.

Outside, before walking in, we made the acquaintance of "Puddin'", a slender, 77-year old black fellow who good-naturely hustled us out of a few bucks by showing us some amazing card tricks and some dice that seemed to change magically in the blink of an eye! You knew you were being hustled, but you didn't care - it was entertaining as hell. Then, when it was over, he took us inside and showed us where "his" table was (obviously he's a regular) and showed us different photographs on the wall where he appeared, obviously very proud of his status at Ground Zero ("I work for Mr. Freeman") he said.

We ended up eating our supper there as well - Dennie had a monster ribeye, cooked on the grill outside, that was melt-in-your-mouth tender, complete with a huge baked potato, etc. I had a pulled pork barbecue sandwich and fries, which was excellent. We even got a chance to check out a couple of other southern "delicacies" today - deep fried okra, and fried green tomatoes. Both very good!

Bill "Howl-N-Madd" Perry and his fellow musicians form the house band that played last night. They were very good also. However, last night's late bedtime caught up to us, and we started yawning around 11:30 and decided to call it a night. Had to stop at Burger King for Dennie - the steak and potato had already worn off and he needed a little more fuel before bedtime.

Here are pictures of today. CLICK HERE TO VIEW. Click the slideshow button once you get to the photo site, sit back, and enjoy the show.

By the way, Dennie brought along his harmonica and has been practicing. He's getting pretty damned good!

Let's try to show you a map of today's short trip (about 70 miles), from Memphis to Clarksdale, Mississippi. CLICK HERE to see a map.

There are a LOT of cotton fields down here - in fact, we started running into them in the Missouri bootheel, which surprised us. Here's a pic of the stuff growing in the fields.

There are several crops growing that we have no idea what they are. Haven't seen a cow, horse, or pig in hundreds of miles! Flat and dry, roads straight as an arrow, heat shimmering up off the road. Just like you'd imagine it would be.

Hotel room in Clarksdale is the Best Western Executive Inn. Very nice room.

We'll be going out exploring soon. It's about 3:45 pm. Morgan Freeman's juke joint is about a mile or two from here. He lives down here -- maybe we'll see him!

Bye for now.