to The King.
Must say, the older I get the more Elvis means to me. I guess when you're a kid you hear him on the radio all the time, and it's always those worthless stupid cuts like "Don't Be Cruel" or "Teddy Bear." When you get older you can really sink your teeth into the Sun stuff, and then his great comeback at the end of the 60s, a great run which included "Suspicious Minds", "Kentucky Rain", "In the Ghetto" and "Burning Love", together with my slice of slices, his Vegas '68 Comeback. Plus, you realize he spend millions of sessions recording his true love, gospel. Any chance you have to buy Elvis gospel, do. Heartbreaking, amazing stuff. I vaguely remember Elvis' death, mostly I remember my Elvis trading cards from the country store down the road and my mother for years afterwards shaking her head, moaning wistfully that no matter how fat/crazy etc he was by the end, "he never lost that voice." Elvis was never Chuck or Buddy or Little Richard, but that voice, that voice that voice that voice.
Also, my first time visiting Graceland had my buddy Ryan videotape myself pretending to piss on the wall outside. Which, of course played well with the guy at the gate, who closed it in my face as I tried to enter. "Piss on this, big guy." Hmm. Did finally get in months later and man, is there anything stranger than this place? You spend n hour walking through, laughing at the sheer 60s-ness and absurdity, making fun of everything then BAM! turn the corner, there's his grave. Dag, you think, can I get a warning?
Anyways, Happy Birfday!
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