Yesterday marked the 32nd anniversary of the death of Elvis Presley. It would be easy to insert a cheesy joke or remark here, but I'm not going to. Why? Because, simply, I love Elvis.
I was only 7 years old when Elvis died. I remember being outside playing when a neighbor came running out of his house yelling the news. My mom played his music in the house, and I'd heard it on the radio, but it didn't really resonate with me until a few years later when music became such a huge part of my life. I worked my way through his entire catalog, his movies, and recordings of his TV specials. Quite frankly, I don't have the words to describe exactly how talented the man was, and what an effect his music had on me. I was, and am still, in awe of his voice. I can't tell you what my favorite Elvis song is, because it changes all the time. I hear something new in his music every time I listen to it. But I can tell you I prefer Elvis in black leather as opposed to sparkly white jumpsuits. I've read the biographies and the tell-alls. I definitely consider myself a fan.
So, when I was in Nashville for business several years ago, I knew I had to make the trek to Memphis to visit Graceland. Who knew if I would ever be in the state again? A business colleague drove me across the state on a Saturday night and made the visit with me early on a Sunday morning - thanks, Joe Stewart! I'd seen photographs of course, but when you drive up to the famous white music note gates, I don't care who you are, your heart starts to pound. There is excitement and sadness all through the house and grounds - the thrill of "oh my God, he was actually here in this room" and the palor of such a waste of a great talent. The rooms that contain his gold records are absolutely amazing when you consider that Elvis was the first artist to ever achieve that status, ultimately selling over one billion records worldwide.
As I started writing today I also remembered a movie that I saw as a teen, which, while technically not about Elvis, shows a side of him that wasn't really seen by the public. The movie is called Touched by Love (or To Elvis With Love), starring Diane Lane as a young girl with cerebal palsy who is encouraged to write a letter to Elvis after she saw the movie Love Me Tender. A true story, Elvis not only answers her letter but gives her his private address and continues to write her until her death in 1963, showering her with cards and gifts. To me, this is a better representation of Elvis than the movies he made because the Colonel told him to. Those campy movies, while filled with great songs, don't do him justice at all.
He was, and will forever be, the King. Long live rock n' roll.
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