After Elvis

Thirty-three years ago the afternoon sun was hanging high in the sky above Smith Mountain Lake, a tranquil man-made lake that was formed from a dam near Lynchburg, Virginia. The sun beat down unusually hot as it does in August, but my friends and I managed to enjoy the day fishing and sloshing down cold beers while out of harm's way. We had no TV or radio on and by the time we drove into Peaks of Otter Restaurant, located just off the Blue Ridge Highway, we were famished that evening. We had no idea that the world as we knew it had stopped spinning. During that time we were out on the lake the rest of the globe heard the news they had never imagined they would hear: Elvis Presley, the King, was dead. During dinner we heard nothing about the demise of Elvis or how he was found dead at only 42. We only heard about and sampled the fresh rainbow trout that had been swimming along in local streams only a few hours earlier. We enjoyed a festive repast and drove the 40 minutes back to the home located just off the lake. It was then that we turned on the TV to hear Tom Snyder on an hour later than he should be apologize for being on late due "to the death of Elvis Presley." I'll still never forget just how a beautiful day it was and how the world came crashing down for those who grew up in the rock and roll era. Last year's passing of Michael Jackson might be the closest to hysteria that fans exhibited since the death of Presley. The outpouring of grief for the King of Pop probably lasted longer than that for the King because the funeral for Jackson was postponed for several weeks and memorials went on unabated for months after his passing. Yet, in the three days from the time Presley died until the day he was laid to rest, there was an unbelievable response from his fans. I was driving home from Virginia on that Sunday, but elected to spend the night in Chattanooga rather than make the drive to Memphis. As I recall an out-of-control automobile barreled into the funeral crowd, killing a young Louisiana woman. Perhaps, had I been in Memphis, I might have been in harm's way too. The fact I wasn't in Memphis, though, didn't mean I didn't have feelings for Presley. He was one of my earliest musical heroes and I remember singing "Don't Be Cruel" along with his single for family members when I was just a mere tyke. Frankly, I never got that hip shaking thing down too well, but that didn't matter. For just a few minutes, I, too, was the King, making my mark on the musical world to the delight of my audience. Years later when he had graduated from blue jeans to jump suits, he still had that magnetism that made fans glad to be around him and appreciative of his skills as an entertainer. One adage that's true: after Elvis, nobody out of prison makes jump suits look good.

Thank you. Thank you, very much, Elvis

I will forever be indebted to Elvis Presley for a number of things, but foremost are my patented combination lip curl and pelvic thrust. Elvis was a star when I was just a toddler, so my recollections of him were as some sort of throwback to an earlier era when I was growing up in the Sixties. Yet, despite his lack of importance in music at that time (compared to his absolute domination in the late Fifties), everyone respected Elvis Presley as the guy who came around at the right time. He was the fresh faced Southern boy who not only could sing rhythm and blues music, but could make it accessible to other white music buyers at a time when "race" music was starting to be broadcast over mainstream radio. I still find it incredible to hear that Pat Boone's version of "Blueberry Hill" outsold Fats Domino's at one time. But that was the way the music industry was run back then. I should know because my mom and uncle ran a very successful record store at that time. My collection of Elvis albums and Elvis books all died during the flooding after Hurricane Katrina, so I now have to rely on a few greatest hits CD collections to muddle me through. There are a number of fans, women mostly I guess, who still think of Elvis as "the king," and I won't ever denigrate then for that. He was a spectacular iconic figure who inspired millions of fans both young and old alike by changing the face of popular music. He will forever be remembered for his legacy of song, although not as many people feel his work in film was as noteworthy. Frankly, I always had a more than grudging admiration for Elvis the star performer. Anyone who could star against Ann-Margret, Shelley Fabares, Juliet Prowse, Nancy Sinatra and Mary Tyler Moore had to be able to hold his own as an actor, although many of the latter scripts were pretty simplistic and left one wondering where the production values had been left in the process of making these films. In any event Elvis is dead, but he's never been bigger. He's 75 and bringing in tons of cash each year, now managed by his estate, at Graceland and through continuing sales and leasing of his images and songs. Happy Birthday, Elvis! If you ask me, when it comes to "the King," cash is definitely king!