At dusk, bats flit and fly over the Alabama highway. Leaving Charleston was bittersweet. There was a small sense of hollowness as I said goodbye to my new friend and made my way across South Carolina and Georgia into the Alabama dusk. “Yet knowing how way leads on to way…”
It’s morning and I’m in Birmingham, AL. I’m torn on how to spend my time here. It wasn’t until yesterday that I even booked my room or knew how long I’d be staying. I sensed that I didn’t want to city hop (Montgomery to Birmingham to Memphis) before the blues fest at the end of the week, and I started to worry about the “first come first serve” aspect of staying in tent city in Arkansas. I’ll be in Birmingham through Wednesday morning – I figure I can hit Memphis after the Blues show. I know there are a lot of Civil Rights attractions to visit, and I suspect I’ll take some of those in… but I’m also hesitant to do that. It’s as if I’m questioning my motives: am I visiting these things because it’s what people do? Am I doing it to be a good white person in trying to understand racial history in America? Am I doing it because I want the genuine experience? I feel the same way (a little bit of phoniness) when I visit art museums and other cultural attractions: is this me, or is this how I wish to be seen? I seldom have those questions after my visit. I’m almost always moved and pushed into a deeper more thoughtful space.
I have two days here. It’s forecast to be hot (upper 80s) and I only have one pair of shorts with me and I only brought one pair of shoes with me into the hotel. I also don’t want to bother the valet just so I can grab a pair of sneakers. The other option is to just sweat it out in my jeans. These are the inconsequential logistical thoughts that take up more space in my head than I would like – when what I should really be doing is just getting outside and enjoying the city.
Speaking of which…