I wake quite sublimely refreshed and demolish the meatloaf I had placed on death-row (score another late win for Tommy). We then spend the whole morning in glorious Mississippi sunshine mucking around Dark Blue’s family cabin, which is pristine and splendid, with two floors (or a ground floor and a ‘mezzanine’ as Silver put it, to much hilarity from Mississippi locals) with large bedrooms and a number of sunny, well-appointed porches.

There is a large lake and levee and a damp meadow within the grounds. We fish (unsuccessfully) in said lake, hit a few golf balls off said levee and play out an epic game of American football on said meadow. Dark Blue, Silver and I suffer a narrow defeat against The Yankee, who (with annoying regularity) picks off passes to the six-footers Andthesea and The Big Man, the latter of whom takes significant pleasure in taking me out off the ball. Happily I manage to deposit him in a large, swampy puddle at one point, covering him head to toe in stagnant ooze. Sadly, I’m sure The Big Man’s vengeance will be swift and severe, should there be a rematch.

*

We drive around in the sun for a short spell, discovering that Tuesday early afternoon is not the busiest time of the week in Northern Mississippi and much is closed. However, we are able to slip into Yalabusha Brewery in the small town of Water Valley where a fine fellow by the name of John shows us around an increasingly successful Southern craft brewery.

This gives us quite the taste, so we go purchase a good few of their offerings at a nearby BBQ joint called Lamar Lounge. The BBQ itself is tasty and plentiful, and I am able to chalk up a win by taking down a a big old pile of high quality local cuisine. The waitress today also doesn’t seem much of a fan, and I fear a pattern is emerging. I should really spend some time writing some better jokes. Come to think of it, I guess y’all feel pretty similarly as well…

*

We drop off Dark Blue, hit a liquor store to buy him and his family liquid thank-you gifts, then drive to a close-by gun range. It is time for us to fire powerful weaponry and finally become truly American. We get our hands on a 9mm semi-automatic, an old-school revolver and an M-series semi-automatic assault rifle (the single loudest thing I have ever come across in my life, even more than Silver after a few ales).

Comparing targets at the end, Andthesea seems the most preternaturally gifted, and The Big Man points out that such talents are wasted on a Quaker. The Yankee is less deadly, as is the Eagle, who was shooting with his wrong hand following an embarrassing football injury from that morning.

Personally I found two things quite concerning with the experience: Firstly, that the minimum age at the range was eight years old..EIGHT!! Secondly..was how much I enjoyed it…oh the power…oh the titillating, captivating, overwhelming, intoxicating power of it all. On the way out I sign a petition against gun control and attempt to join the GOP over the phone.

Putting aside our new-found Republicanism, we went back to bid farewell and give gifts to the notably Democratic Dark Blue and his family. A couple of their friends were visiting so we have a brief but sweet little gathering before heading up to Memphis for the night.

*

Back in Tennessee on the outskirts of Memphis we find a decent enough motel (The Baymont Inn, for those taking notes) then head downtown to Beale Street – the main strip for bars and live music. We go to B.B. King’s Blues Club and (unsurprisingly) the band is fabulous, with a peerless, top-quality guitarist and a singer with lungs the size of punching bags. It’s not a particularly late night, though a few beers may or may not have been enjoyed. However, the music will live long in the memory.