I was that "(provide your own adjective) little thing waiting for the King down in the Jungle Room" but had to make do with a lookee likee who issued postcards and booking arrangements should you ever wish.....
Having endured a 9 hour car journey during which the windscreen wipers froze so stiff they no longer touched the windscreen and we witnessed 10 crashes and the back end of the car swinging out every time we went over or under a bridge I was a tad worried that Memphis and Graceland would not be that exciting especially when Riona and her boyfriend had endured a 14 hour journey to be with me on my birthday.
We scuttled into the nearest blues bar on Beale Street (the one on the right hand corner) complete with a hang yourself from the rafters and swallow my harmonica blues band belting out "The paaaaaaayn of luuuurv from an angry wommmaaaaaan" and proceeded to order gator gumbo and 4 spoons (1 to eat and the other 3 to hit any full size version jumping out at us from the bowl). MMMMMMMMMMMM spicy man.
The evening was topped by a surprise slice of key lime pie, the traditional birthday offering from the restaurant, ordered by P in secret. It came with 2 other surprises, one was the smack round the head from the waitress for P when he asked if she could put 46 candles on it (and you can stop pretending to be shocked) and the second was the fact that he got charged for the privilege.
Saturday am - into the hallowed ground to witness some almost "taste"
and some total tack
A breathtaking awards room
And a very deep sense of him as an icon.
The unnerving bits were:
1 the lookee likee mouthing all the words of the songs being piped through
2 the woman that sobbed and howled the length of the trophy corridor
3 the dummest,loudest dame edna everidge sound-a-like who despite the introduction which explained you cannot go upstairs in Graceland since he never took visitors up there and it was the only private place he had, whined "Why caaaaan't we go upstairs, I wanna go upstairs, what's upstairs we caaan't see....yadayadayadayada".
Late Saturday - the Peabody Hotel
In this lounge at 11 and 4 a gold top cane wielding duck master in a smart red jacket persuades the ducks that swim in the fountain to climb out and race across a red carpet to the lift. Based on a historic bet I think he said. It is a tradition which many people gather for, I tried to to a picture but was blocked by a butt the size of Kansas which was also swallowing little children in its wake. It had every right to be there to watch but at the back with the other adults.
We finished off the weekend with me almost becoming a pin-up....literally. Emerging from the motel room with two cups of coffee, I was one step short of the door when a man parking outside our room hit the accelerator instead of the brake, flew over the concrete bay marker and mounted the pavement. What really made me mad was that he didn't even stop the car to say sorry...just reversed and sped off. My friend B would say that it was just God's way of saying look sharp and think on...not that he ever quotes God anywhere else....
And the Elvisologist is real....I kid you not, it is the Elvis expert on KLUV radio station...that's KAY Ell YOU VEE.
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