Once in a blue moon, there are some questions that just render themselves unanswerable. I happened to encounter one such question this weekend in Memphis for my cousin's wedding.

Having arrived a day early to enjoy ourselves, my parents, Shawn, and I went downtown to enjoy dinner, sitesee, walk out the impending blood clots in our legs from prolonged car riding, etc.

The happenin' street in downtown Memphis is dubbed "Beale Street." It's kind of your typical area of nightlife with a rock n roll flair. (That's what Memphis is about, after all.) We get to the end of this street and there before our very eyes stands a vast group of people with blood-spattered clothes, grotesquely dark eye makeup, and even a pregnant lady with what looks like the traces entrails hanging off of her belly. My dad walks over to two of these young men and asks what everyone is doing. Instead of gracing us with an, oh, human response, they immediately hunch down, arms trailing toward the ground, and begin moaning. Dad just laughs goodheartedly and we move on to find dinner. We eventually overhear talk that it is a zombie invasion.

While in the restaurant we settle into (also located on Beale Street), we inform the waitress of said interesting happenings. With a look of genuine innocence, she exclaims,

"Oh, do you think they're real?"