Fall is a popular time of year for visitors to the Smokies—those from all over flock for a glimpse at the sprawling view of reds, yellows, and oranges. But early Sunday morning, a rockslide hit North Carolina’s Highway 40, leaving a mountainous pile of boulders just past the Tennessee state line and closing the road in both directions.

Authorities say the rocks may leave the road blocked for several months, but don't let a highway closure put a hold on your road trip just yet! There are several detours available, so there's no need to miss out on long Fall drives or Winter ski trips this year.

Follow the link for additional routes that offer a scenic drive and great stops for amazing views.

The late Jim Dickinson, second from left, sits with (left to right) son Luther, wife Mary Lindsay, and son Cody. Jim’s good buddy Lightin’ the basset hound is seated center. For more on the piano* that served as the centerpiece for this photograph, see below. Photo by Art Meripol.

Memphis and the greater world of music lost one of its most knowledgeable, talented, and entertaining denizens last week. James Luther Dickinson died Saturday, August 15, at his home outside of Coldwater, MS.

Jim leaves his wife Mary Lindsay and their two sons, Luther and Cody, who many music fans know as the guitarist and drummer, respectively, for the North Mississippi Allstars. He also leaves us all with music he’s written, performed, recorded, and produced, having played with such icons as Bob Dylan and The Rolling Stones, and worked with bands, such as The Replacements and Memphis’ own Big Star.

Ashlyn: Cabin fever. BAD. i'm about to say lets jet off to ATL or nashville
Sloan: really?? can we please? i just said those exact same words to my mother i am DYING to get outta this town. (I should add at this point that, despite a Braves game, we have been kicking it in the fabulous 'Ham for approximately 5 consecutive months.)
Ashlyn: you think we could swing it? you know i'm in if you are.
Sloan: well. we'd have to decide where first.
Ashlyn: ha. okay, hm. can we go to n'ville?

Yesterday I read something very, very Southern in the New York Times. For months now the newspaper fairy has been delivering to my doorstep a free copy of the Sunday Times. I used to "borrow" the local public library's copy early sabbath AM --- returning it before the den of books opened on Monday --- until, lucky for me, the daily gods saw fit to save me the two-mile drive. Now, it's waiting thickly folded and wrapped in thin blue plastic when the sun comes up, minus that obscene $5 price tag Starbucks requires. But, back to the gorgeously written piece...it was about a frozen deer carcass in southeast Tennessee.

(Photo: Ken Walker)

I’m like a moth to a bug light when I see a front porch like the one in the painting above. It’s like a mood ring. In a cheery state of mind, I see the light emanating from inside and immediately hear music and voices, expecting the door to swing open and the party to spill outside. In more introspective moments, I focus on the emptiness, the tidiness, the skull, as metaphors for the spent spirit after a long day…and wonder how long before that party spills outside.

"Barbecue is the closest thing we have to cheese in France. It’s our food. There’s no getting around it.”

These words spoken by Patrick Martin of Martin's Barbecue Joint in Nolensville, TN (about 20 miles outside of Nashville), tell of his love for the Que. We're talking God and country love---first kiss love---favorite football team love---the kind of love a man feels when he's found the "one." But his adoration for pulled pork goes far beyond succulent slices of meat layered on greasy buns. With smoke in his hair, fire in his eyes, and barbecue sauce in his veins, this Que connoisseur specializes in the fine art of whole hog cooking--an old-school culinary art form that has him winning recognition by respected pit masters from Memphis to Manhattan.

With one visit to his restaurant---a wooden structure with a large front porch---I knew why.

Yesterday I hit the red leather-bound volumes of Southern Living, starting at the top left corner of the shelves in 1966. What I found felt very much like a time capsule.

Nashville artist Herb Williams, who's been written about in this magazine, continues his quest to create a world out of crayons. He sent me an email this morning to introduce his latest portrait, that of Senator Obama, just ready for Election Day across America. Though SL does not call itself blue or red, we couldn't resist showing off our friend Herb, one of Tennessee's most creative and all-around-swell guys. We love the South and its people much more than we love politics. If you are Nashville, your best bet to meet Herb is to stop by the Rymer Gallery downtown, where he curates and builds his crayon masterpieces. Warning: He may enlist your help in cutting the color sticks, if you are lucky.

Find time to exercise your right to vote today. And while your at it, buy a box of 64 Crayola's. There's nothing like that fresh smell.

Just passing through the Memphis Interational Airport, I couldn't help notice how Sam Phillips' particular genius still flavors the town he called home for much of his life. Sam, to put it as I did in a 2002 Southern Living story, is the man who invented rock'n'roll. I made that huge claim because Sam's Sun Studio not only recorded Ike Turner and the Jackie Brenston Five's Rocket 88, reputed to be the first true rock song, but also because he went on to record Elvis, BB King, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, Roy Orbison, Jerry Lee Lewis, and other musical pioneers too numerous to mention here.

Sam died a few years ago, shortly after my story appeared, and for many younger people, his name now belongs to a female alt-folk-rocker. But Sam Phillips, the man, was an original, and his imprint remains. There at the airport, I visited the Sun Records Store, adjacent to the Rock'n'Soul Museum Store, both packed to the ceiling with memorabilia that wouldn't have been possible if Sam Phillips hadn't been a white producer willing to take a chance on black musicians in the 1950s. Down the concourse, Sun Studios Cafe beckoned, one more reminder of a red-headed entrepreneur who moved north and west from Muscle Shoals and made his fortune, and those of many others.

Sam had great stories to tell about those early days, always entertaining whether or not the details blurred with time. His voice is gone, but his sound - that sound he was always trying to capture, lives on in the hits. Hearing some playing across the speakers at the airport reminds even transitory patrons that the South produced rock, soul, blues, country, and jazz. Without Sam, Memphis - and American popular music - wouldn't be the same.

Having friends over to watch the game, priceless.

We're all feeling the pinch of the current economic downturn. So instead of making the trip to Dallas for the Red River Rivalry pitting No. 1 Oklahoma against No. 5 Texas, I decided to throw my own tailgate party and invite a bunch of friends over.

Nashville hosts the best and brightest in Southern Books this weekend, October 10-12, and it's wide open to the public. Even Oprah's next book pick will be there. If curling up with a stirring novel or a fascinating dive into history suits you, keep reading this post for my own "Cliff's Notes" of how to best experience the Southern Festival of Books.

"Charlie Brown Wins!"

This could have been the headline in The Tennessean after the 19th-ranked Vanderbilt Commodores beat No. 13 Auburn 14-13 in Nashville Saturday night.

For years, the Lucys of the Southeastern Conference snatched the ball away just as Charlie (a.k.a. Vandy) Brown was about to achieve success. But on this night, the SEC's perennial whipping boys finally sank a football powerhouse to go 5-0 for the first time since World War II. As improbable as it may seem, it's now the Commodores who are sitting proudly atop the SEC East.

Recently, Time Magazine (a publication owned by our parent company) published a story titled, "50 Authentic American Experiences." These huge types of magazine articles always intrigue me. Rarely do I not grab the magazine or click on the story to see what editors spotlight as the best BBQ in Texas, the greatest songwriters of all-time, or America's favorite beaches. I love the breadth of expertise and the narrowing down of opinions.

Time, though, missed the mark, especially in the South. I'll offer my thoughts and you can decide.

During a recent trip to Nashville, Tennessee Livings People and Places editor Tommy Black dropped by the Country Music Hall of Fame.

(photo by Kelsey Blackwell)

Though I’ve never studied architecture or usually take notice of such things, I know something cool when I see it, like this old Greyhound station on main street in Jackson, Tennessee. From what I could gather from locals, it’s one of two in the country to have retained its original art deco design and is still fully operating. A few calls around town and random Internet browsing place that other at anyone’s guess. When I strolled over to check this one out, along with the design it didn’t seem like much else had changed.

(Bluff-top art, the mighty Mississippi, and the green expanse beyond. Photo by Richard Banks)

I lived 33 of my 44 years in Memphis. Now after eight years away, the city’s culture is still under my finger nails like ribs and sauce, and its music reverberates in my head. When I get back to town, it’s like I can breathe again and I hyperventilate as I can’t stop paying visits to old haunts. Back home after a long weekend, I’m usually spent after days of reconnection and no sleep.

I’m happy to report – in between naps in my office, of course – that a recent trip was no different. The city is as entertaining as ever and the local populace as hospitable as any in the South – both perfect ingredients for a quick weekend escape.

When you think of cutting-edge architecture, Nashville may not be the first city that comes to mind. Designers like Ryan Thewes, however, are making a name for themselves and giving Nashville a splash of unique homes (and getting some well-deserved praise here, here, here and this last one is a digital magazine, but you can flip to page 38 to see an award Thewes pulled in).

Coffeehouses in Nashville go by many names. Breakfast spot. Reading place. Study corner. Freelance headquarters.  Depending on the time of day, you'll see bed-head musician, traveling salesperson, and college student all standing in line at various beaneries in every pocket of the Tennessee capitol. As a former resident, I took some time to pass out some faux hardware for what makes each shop pretty special.

(For more of Urevbu's work, click here).

If you’re in the Memphis International Airport and need a change of scenery or perhaps some artistic inspiration, check out Ephraim Urevbu’s paintings in the connectors between concourses A and B, as well as B and C. The Nigerian born artist who now calls Memphis home portrays such subjects as drummers from his homeland to bluesmen of his new hometown with an intensity of color and a style that borders on the Modern with hints of Impressionism and Cubism.