I nearly forgot to mention that today is the day that The King died. Thirty years ago Elvis fell from his throne (literally) and went to be with his momma.

Being from Memphis I’ll admit to having a bit of a passing fascination with the big E. And like everyone else from there I’ve known my share of people that knew him first hand. I was friends with one of the ER nurses that pulled his fat ass out of the ambulance when it brought him to Baptist Memorial Hospital for the last time. She swears it really was him on the gurney, and that he wasn’t as fresh as his entourage claimed that he was. If you know what I mean. I once worked with a woman that had gone to high school with him, and claimed to be the first girl to crawl over in the back seat of a car with him. A car he had borrowed from another classmate by the way. She said he was sweet, but had really quick hands. Of course she also claims to have kept him North of the Border all night. Which might explain why they only had one date. At my last job before I left Memphis for DC one of the guys in our part of the cube farm had some property that backed up to Graceland and he always bitched about the white trash that trekked across his place to try to scale the back fence of the Presley compound.

I never crossed the gates of Graceland personally, though I took several out of town buddies there so they could. Coming back later to pick them up when the tour was over, hoping none of them died from the excitement of it all. I did always manage to make it down EP Blvd for the Dead Night festivities. Loads of freaks and geeks to make fun of, like the girl on the right that came all the way from Holland to see his grave and get her Elvis tat in Memphis. Nice.

———-

P.S.  I found this a couple of minutes after the original post and couldn’t not pass it along.  Proof that Memphis still thinks Elvis is the shits is that they even run fake news in the free liberal paper acting like he lived to see his 72nd birthday.