A Little Nostalgia

OK! I'm ready to blog for Caroel Sue! There is no real pressure for me to spell correctly, so here I go. I just talked to her, and she is about to go home. She feels like a horse has given her liberal kicks to the abdomen, but the pain medicine is being utilized. She also got to keep her ovaries. I hope that is not too much info, and yet, part of me hopes it is too much info. Feel good, Sue.

I'm Karen Harvey, by the way. I'm Carole's friend of 21 (!) years. She is truly one of my favorite people on this earth. There is no "secret" Carole. She's just out there. I adore her.

On contemplating a topic, I had to choose from Feasts of the Old Testament, Politics and You!, or Elvis.

I love Elvis. I am seriously considering his name being my next tattoo. It's not because I am in love with him, or that I have some sort of romantic attraction for him. That would be incestuous. Seriously.

I was raised by a man who had a man crush on the King. My Daddy. He loved him. When our family went places in our station wagon (the kind with the "wooden" panels on the side and the back seat that faced the rear and the back window that went down vertically), there was an 8-track playing of Aloha, Elvis. I used to get chills when I heard the Trilogy. I still do. My Dad was shocked and felt like he was somehow cheating when he lived past 42. I remember the day Elvis died. We had gone to Pascagoula to visit Uncle Louis. My Dad had stayed home because he was in a "bad mood". (Euphemism we used growing up to minimize dysfunction). When the news got out, Daddy obviously was thrust out of his mood, and we wound up going to Panama City to help ease the pain. A few years later we tried to go to Graceland, but it was closed the day we were passing through. Bitter disappointment.

Elvis was truly the first Super Star. I can remember how wonderful it seemed that he was out there giving away cars and rings to complete strangers at the
7-11. Women were overcome with emotion and just had to scream when he was near. People would not leave without being told he had left the building. The jumpsuits, the belt buckles, the hair. It was all bigger than life. I guess that was the appeal. Bigger than life. Bigger than so many people's lives.

So I give Elvis his due. He's the King, baby. There was never one like him and there won't be again. I will go now to my bathroom and give a wink to my oversized decopauge of him in his prime. It was my Dad's, and when he died, that's what I wanted. And it is so cool.

Comments

Carole Turner said…
Love it!! I SO need a huge pic of Elvis in my bathroom!

The comforting thing is that I know when I come to your house, he is there.

Thanks for the great post Karen!
Anonymous said…
Great post Karen! I love the KING too. Carole's MOM Linda
Joyce said…
Nice memories!!!
My Grandma LOVED Elvis.....she always played his Christmas Album at Christmas. We have been going Memphis for YEARS and never have time to go to Graceland because we were always in a hurry. I have seen the GATES though. HA!
agardana said…
Great to hear from you Karen. Elvis truly was the King. There will never be another star like him.

Looks like you must be home now Carole. Glad to know that you kept some of your pieces parts. Take it easy this week.

Stacie

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