THE LAST FIVE ...

Closing up shop
- Wednesday, Aug. 02, 2006

It may be time for a change
- Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Entry in the air
- Friday, April 21, 2006

Still here
- Thursday, April 20, 2006

Music of the moment
- Wednesday, March 1, 2006

Or ... BE RANDOM!


GOOD READS

101 in 1001
American Road Trip, 1998


OTHER PEOPLE

Chupatintas
Dancing Brave
Fugging It Up
Kitty Sandwich
Mister Zero
Sideways Rain
Ultratart
Velcrometer


THE BASICS

My crew
Latest
Older
Notes
Our host
Profile

2001-08-16 - 10:57 a.m.

I'm going to Graceland

Today's the day Elvis died.

Or so they say.

I'm not particularly an Elvis fan. I own one CD because it has one song on it that I couldn't get out of my head for a week in Mexico once and so I thought that maybe by buying it the music would stop. Maybe that's some sort of psychological disorder that would explain the 300+ CDs in my collection.

I've been to Graceland though. What a place. It's so commercialized, they built a separate Welcome Center/Gift Shop/Museum across the street from the mansion. You park there, buy your $16 ticket and hop on a shuttle bus to cross the street and drive up to the house. It's a pretty cool tour, though you only see about five rooms in the actual mansion. But you walk around with a headset on listening to Priscilla describe the house and living with Elvis. He does have a cool "Jungle Room" and neat basement. You go through the kitchen too. But then you go out the back and see the grounds and head into his office out in one of the outbuildings. You take a look at his racquetball court -- now covered with all his gold records -- and then head into the guest house or barn or something (I don't remember what's what exactly) and it's another museum of Elvisabilia. Finally, you walk out into the garden by the pool where the graves are, complete with the curiously spelled "Aron" that, as I think my mom once told me helped fuel the talk that it wasn't really The King who died, that his name was spelled Aaron. But it wasn't.

I watched "3,000 Miles to Graceland" Sunday night without even realizing this date was coming up this week. Kinda interesting how that worked out.

But the thing I liked about Graceland is how you walk through the house -- even with a Walkman on, rooms roped off and the entire second floor a mystery -- and still be able to feel him in that house. The decor is so completely Elvis that you get the sense that he's still there. It even has a smell, not a bad smell, not a good smell, but it smells like a house, not a museum. That adds to the sense of history.

I've been to presidential mansions -- Jackson's Hermitage, Washington's Mount Vernon, Jefferson's Monticello (and LBJ's ranch, where Lady Bird still lives, so the house is, naturally, closed) -- and you get a little bit of a sense of history there, but the rooms are so clean, so spotless, so static that something is lost. Granted, it's a century or two with those places (save Johnson's), and that's part of it. The sounds of the cars on the highway near The Hermitage in Nashville do not fit in with the plantation grounds. The hordes of school kids on class trips to Mount Vernon steal the calm quiet Washington likely had (sure, he always had a lot of family and "staff" -- i.e., slaves -- on the grounds, but not nearly as many prepubescent brats). With Graceland, it feels as if it's as Elvis left it. Like he went out for a drive and could be back any minute. Like he'll step out of the bathroom one of these days ...

But I have a better reason to note the date today. Ever since college, for the past few years, Aug. 16 has been more than Elvis' death day, but the birthday of a dear friend.

A king died, but a much more noble soul was born.

Happy birthday, HAC.

Previous page: On suntans, sweaters and cover letters
Next page: The joy of Skeletor�

� 1998-2004 DC Products. All rights reserved.

Yeah, sorry I have to be all legal on you here, but unless otherwise indicated, all that you read here is mine, mine, mine. But feel free to quote me or make fun of me or borrow what I write and send it out as an e-mail forward to all your friends, family and coworkers. Just don't say it's yours, you know?