Me & Elvis

by Katrina Martin

Elvis played a large role in my childhood. You see, my mom is a gigantic Elvis fan. Not to the point of commemorative painted plates to hang on the wall or redecorating my room after I moved out at 18 to look like the Jungle Room. But big enough to plan a week-long vacation to Memphis to see Graceland, Sun Records and eat at the McDonald's covered with Elvis memorabilia.

One of my first presents as a child was a music box. Ok, it wasn't a box, but instead a porcelain likeness of three shaggy dogs - one picking a banjo, another playing a guitar and another strumming a stand-up bass. It played "Hound Dog." For many years of my life I thought "Hound Dog" was a kid's song because the thing was a toy to me. The dogs lasted until my cat knocked them off my dresser late one night and broke it. I think my mom was more heartbroken than me.

Every August on the anniversary of Elvis's death, some cable station plays non-stop Elvis movies. Mom always watched them and thoroughly enjoyed them, but if I never see Spinout or Girl Trouble again I can die happy. He's a terrible actor and when I'd point this out to my mom, she'd say, "Well, it wasn't his idea to act anyway. The Colonel made him do it."

Everything bad that ever happened to the King was blamed on the Colonel in my house. Priscilla wants a divorce - probably the Colonel's fault. Elvis's pompadour won't stand up right - probably the Colonel's fault. Elvis can't find his pills - probably the Colonel's fault. (Sorry mom. I had to throw in one drug reference.) In case you aren't aware, the Colonel, whose actual name is Tom Parker, was Elvis's manager. But my question is, if Elvis was the King, why couldn't he just tell the Colonel to bug off? I mean, he ruled the rock 'n' roll universe after all. But I digress.

We listened to Elvis constantly. Even at Christmas, our carols involved his crooning voice. I can't separate the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey from Elvis, who played it before he arrived on stage at live shows. I can sing nearly every early Elvis tune and many of his later "fat Elvis" stuff too. I admit it - I like "Kentucky Rain," and "In the Ghetto," and "Teddy Bear" and "It's Now or Never." Ok, I actually appreciate a lot of his music now. But while growing up I detested him. I refused to admit he is good-looking. I tried to drown out my mother's voice singing along (loudly) to his records. And I hated answering Elvis trivia like "What was the first official single he ever recorded," or "Where was Elvis born," or "What is his daughter's name?" ("That's All Right;" Tupelo, Mississippi; Lisa Marie - ok, so those are easy.)

But now that I'm older I get a warm, happy feeling from listening to Elvis. I know it's nostalgia. I remember our old house, sitting on the carpet in the sunshine playing solitaire or baking cookies. Now when I listen to Elvis it's decidedly a good thing. I don't think my brother's come around yet though - a while ago he came over and Elvis wafted out of my speakers. He smirked. "Is this Neil Diamond?" I just laughed. That's a whole different story.