Unknotting Knoxville

A few farewell photos of Knoxville, mainly of the part of town called the Old City. The Old City is a few square blocks that consist of very old buildings under heavy development. Unfortunately it's penned in by a highway and the railroad, but it is rapidly gentrifying with design and architects' offices. Great bit of graffiti. My sister tell me that this local artist is well known and that people will pry off the plywood at building sites to keep she often sketches on. Summer thunderstorm sky over downtown Knoxville.

The old JFG Coffee building where they roasted coffee since 1926. It's been recently closed and operations moved elsewhere. Repurposed bowling alley as car lot. Doesn't get any more post-modern than that, does it? Bricolage amongst the suburban detritus.

Knoxville Perambulations

Quite a bit of ground covered today in Knoxville with a walk of over 4 1/2 hours. I walked up to the Harold Lambert Overlook Park, which is across the street from my mom's and sister's apartment. This is where the Civil War era Union fort, Fort Dickerson was located. The views across the river are obscured by the luxuriant summer growth, but it was a nice hike up and I learned a fair bit about the siege of Knoxville by Confederacy forces. I then walked downtown, stopping frequently to take photographs of various architectural details as is my wont.


Since I had ample time to cogitate, I was struck as I always am when I cross the South Gay Street Bridge on foot by the thought that I can't imagine a more thorough bungling of riverfront property than in Knoxville. Building an expressway right next to the riverside and having only one pedestrian bridge for access from downtown is just about the height of stupidity, especially since there is frantic development downtown gutting old buildings and putting in lofts. What a waste of real estate and a sad reflection of the overwhelming influence of car culture.


I worked my way up Gay Street, and I finally ended up in an alley between an abandoned building that I was taking photos of and a building that apparently houses the printing press that churns out University of Tennessee t-shirts. There was a gentleman there who was sitting in the shade, and it looked like he had been there a while, given the number of empties he had next to him. He asked me not to take his photo, which is natural, given that he was drinking in an alley. He didn't look homeless; rather, he looked like he just wanted a quiet place to drink. We chatted for a while about various things. For a man in a deserted alley, he seemed eager to talk, telling me of his sexual exploits in Vietnam while he was there during the war.


After excusing myself, I walked back up the street to purchase an iced coffee, my summertime drug of choice, and walked across Gay Street to pop into Yee Haw Industries, a self-described industrial letterpress. I really like their Southern influenced design work, and it's a shame that I'm so skint at the moment, otherwise there were several extraordinary posters I would have walked out with. This poster for a Freakwater show is just wonderful. They have a nice storefront, which I neglected to take a picture of.

Tacqueria Mexicana

So while I moseyed on down to the Book Eddy today to replenish my stock of casual reading, I was afflicted by the sticky heat. Today was much more oppressive than it's been the past couple of days, probably because we're due for rain.

I was feeling dizzy from the heat, aided no doubt by lack of sleep, but I did leave victorious with my spoils:

Lost Horizon - James Hilton. A fine piece of idealizing Tibet and introducing the myth of Shangri-la (or more properly, Shambala) to a wide audience. Strange that I hadn't read it yet, but that will be rectified.

Plain Tales from the Raj - edited by Charles Allen. I'm sure it's ammunition for post-Orientalists, but I found Charles Allen's book, The Search for the Buddha: The Men Who Discovered India's Lost Religion (I prefer the British title, The Buddha and the Sahibs: The Men Who Discovered India's Lost Religion), quite compelling, albeit not as well documented in that pedantic academic way as I would like.

And a translation of Milarepa's biography. More on the reason behind purchasing that later, hopefully.

After leaving Book Eddy, I had intended to walk downtown to photograph some of the old buildings being renovated, but I thought perhaps I should fortify myself first. So I popped into Tacqueria Mexicana in the same strip mall as Book Eddy. It's combined with a Mexican grocery store, which has some great Mexican football league hats. I covet the Club Deportivo Cruz Azul one the most.

The waitress seemed quite surprised when I, a gringo extraordinaire, came in. It was long after lunch, and I suppose they were setting up for dinner. She shyly asked me what I wanted to drink in Spanish so I got an agua fresca, tamarindo. Delicious. I tried to summon up my restaurant Spanish, feeble at the best of times, but I kept getting it mixed up with Nepali. No matter, dos asada tacos got me two great tacos, a plate full of pico de gallo, chopped onion, and cilantro. For less than $5, I had a great meal and the pleasure of shocking the waitress and checkout person since I think gringos are not the usual patrons of this establishment. Incidents like this drive home just how divided culturally the U.S. is in some way. I think I'll go back and order a torta some other time after brushing up on some pathetic Spanish.

As I was ruminating and paying the bill, I noticed on the counter a brand of condoms I was not familiar with: Rough Rider. Marketing for condoms must be a fun gig, but who the hell came up with that name? I suppose the ad copy just writes itself. Turns out this particular brand is appropriate for Knoxville since there is a statue of a Rough Rider downtown.

The Road Goes On Forever...

Dunno 'bout the party ending though.

"I'll write you once from Knoxville..."

Title is courtesy of some of my favorite lyrics from the song, "New York City Isn't Going Anywhere" by The Star Room Boys. This song resonates with me every time I get homesick for the South.

Naturally enough, I'm currently in Knoxville visiting kinfolk where the big attraction this summer at the Knoxville Zoo is an albino alligator. I kid you not.

What's really humorous about all this is that the blurb from the website states that "Known for their pink eyes and rare white skin, white alligators are said to bring good luck to those who dare cast a gaze upon the majestic creature."

Who says that? Who writes ad copy for the Knoxville Zoo? And what's up with the fake Cajun phrase in the ad, "Look in dem eyes!"

Terrible when we all know that Cajuns would look at an albino alligator and think:
1) I sure like country fried gator tail
2) That gator there would made some nice boots

On the Buddhist Studies front it's currently like the Battle of Somme: lots of trenches dug but not a whole lotta movement.
I think from now on I'm going to be making war allusions to chart my progress. Or lack thereof. And so as not to pop a vein in frustration, I'll use pre-Korean War metaphors.