Effin' Memphian Of The Week: Inaugural Edition

Part of the ethic here at Effin' Memphis is to introduce you to people in this city who you should know for some reason or another. Whether they're leading non-profits or tirelessly volunteering; starting businesses that are filling gaps and giving back to the city; creating the amazing restaurants that make Memphis one of the best food cities in the country; making the music that is promising to make Memphis an independent music capital sometime in the not-too-distant future; whatever they're doing to push Memphis to the next level, we want you to know them. We'll be choosing people that capture our attention, and while some of our choices will be clearly nepotistic (I make the rules), we'd really like your input and your ongoing nominations. If you know somebody that more of Memphis needs to know, give us a ringy dingy at effinmemphis at gmail dot com, and if we agree with your nomination, we'll shine the fancy lights on them. We hope to feature someone every week or so, so that means we have room for fifty-two whole Memphians over the next year! So, start sending us nominations, ready, set, go!

To kick things off, I'd like to highlight a Memphian that made my Christmas special this year. (We totally haven't had time to come up with a first Memphian and do the appropriate picture taking and interviewing to get this post together, so get ready, because this is total bullshit.)

This is the Memphis resident who made my Christmas season special:

She doesn't have a name, so let's call her Devil Monkey. Here is the backstory of Devil Monkey, and why she is such a noble survivor: your Effin' Memphis is not a Christmas person, at all. Christmas happened to him sometime just after Thanksgiving, when the house was suddenly full of trees and ornaments and Christmas music and all of these things, and we are sorry if you are a big Christmas person, but bear with us. So the stockings were hung and the townspeople were all gay, like super-gay, and halls were decked, and we were still not in the Christmas spirit, because We Do Not Do That. We have exactly two Christmas traditions:

1. On Christmas Eve, we watch Eddie Izzard's Dress To Kill. (Buy it through the Amazon link on the right if you don't have it. Effin' Memphis makes money when you buy things through that link, no matter what you buy. This is one way you will help us pay our rent!) We don't remember when we started doing this, but it was years back.

2. On Christmas Day, we listen to David Sedaris read his wonderful story about Dutch Christmas traditions, "Six To Eight Black Men." If you have never heard it, go listen. You will laugh so hard tears stream down your face.

And of course, peppered throughout the season, we listen to The Pogues and Kirsty MacColl's "Fairytale of New York" and The Pretenders "2000 Miles" a whole buncha times. And then Christmas is over and done. Perfect!

So anyway, we have this Christmas tree, but nobody can decide what to put on top of it for several days, until your Effin' Memphis's roommate comes upon the above Devil Monkey in some closet or another. We agree that it is perfect. Said roommate slices a hole in the stuffed animal's ass so that it may sit atop the tree, regally, watching over the affairs of the house. All was well.

But then she started getting attacked, repeatedly. She would be suddenly forcibly removed from her perch by people who didn't find her to be holy enough for the season. This hurt her feelings, but it did not break her spirit and she did not forget her calling. So we would replace her, a little bit more battle-worn each time. Her eyes, well...her eyes pretty much always looked like they look up there, but we assure you that she cried a couple of times. But she continued to make us happy, because if we're going to have to look at a fucking tree, we really would like it to have Devil Monkey on the top.

All was well until one night, we almost lost her for good. She was just sitting there, ruling over her kingdom with that look in her eye, bothering absolutely no one and bringing tidings of comfort and joy to all, when she suddenly found herself sailing through the air, having been catapulted by an unknown force off the top of the tree, out onto the second floor balcony and hurtling precariously toward the dumpster below and around the corner. And therein she did land, surrounded by the castaways of yuppies.

It was a very cold night.

A rescue attempt was made, but proved to be futile, as it was also a very dark night.

But the next morning, a deus ex machina appeared in the pre-dawn light, when your Effin' Memphis had to walk his dog, Lula. We walked by the dumpster and I said something to the dog along the lines of "motherfucker, I'm not climbing into the dumpster, but if I can rescue her, I'm sure as hell gonna." The dog did not reply, as she is not formally educated. So we gazed through the little sliding door and spotted her all the way at the bottom, face-down, cold and undeserving of her fate. A little bit like Job, really. We were worried we wouldn't be able to reach that far down, but things took a turn for the better when we realized that a really obnoxious neighbor who had recently moved out had thrown away all these decorative branches she had used to create some sort of tropical oasis on her balcony. We immediately thought to ourselves, "those would work as gigantic chopsticks!" It took a minute, and the dog was pulling on her leash the whole time, and it was really, really damned cold, but we got her. We brushed her off and restored her to her throne, and she wast not removedeth e'er again.

Until this morning. (Yes, the tree is still up. Whatever.) The picture above was taken during the final moments of Devil Monkey's reign as the queen of our anti-Christmas. Whether she will make another appearance next year, well, who knows? We're moving, and she lives here.

But for her struggles and her perseverance, she is crowned the inaugural Effin' Memphian of the Week. Bow down.

Stay tuned for next Thursday, where we will spotlight a human Memphian who lives up to Devil Monkey's greatness, and we will make a half-assed attempt to take it seriously.