kay will travel

When the name Elvis Presley is mentioned I still visualise a young, attractive man in fitting shirts and pants who had exceptional charm which managed to have every woman (but the one he wanted) falling over themselves and on him.  He exhibited an amazing array of expertise in fields such as car, motorcycle and boat racing, cliff diving, swimming and surfing, piloting out of control planes, death defying acts on the trapeze, diving into volcanoes or under trains, saving the world – okay yes, now I think I am just being silly but of course, in my 13 year old mind, watching “Blue Hawaii” or “Fun in Acupulco” or “GI Blues” on my black and white tv, there was little he could not achieve – not the least of which was singing in a deep melodic voice and playing musical instruments to induce romantic moods (ahh, swoon) or to simply provide visual and auditory pleasure. He appeared, not just to me, I might add, but, to the world (at least the females of the western world), to be an all round nice guy. And perhaps he really was…. Having just visited his original home and museum in Tupelo as well as Graceland, heard and read the many, many accounts of his life, it seems that we may not have been far off in our estimation.

The shotgun house where he was born and raised was an understated modest. The recalled tidbits of Elvis’s history, preserved in large signs around the museum, tell of a humble, god and family loving boy who just simply enjoyed sitting outside the Baptist church on Sundays and listening to the singing.

These quaint recalls of Elvis (names of story characters included) tell of his family’s poverty and of a boy who was a little troubled by the fact that he lived while his twin brother died (so sad and you have to wonder who put that idea in his head) but who had a positive attitude to life and to people, both black and white. There is one story which is of Gladys, his mother, taking Elvis to the Tupelo hardware to buy his 11^th birthday present. Elvis wanted a 22 rifle or a bicycle. Gladys refused to buy either as she decided they both had the potential to hurt her son. Elvis was so disappointed that he cried and when the hardware shop salesman, Mr Bobo, suggested a guitar, Elvis was not interested. However, his mother was losing patience and perhaps to humour his mother, he tried picking the strings on the guitar. His mother paid $7.90 for the present “and Elvis gave a wealth of music to millions”. Another of the recounts is of a friend taking Elvis to his relative who ran a radio station. Elvis was only young, and only knew a few songs, but keen to perform live as others did on the radio. The relative said that Elvis wasn’t too bad but really couldn’t hold a tune. (Wow, that guy might just have had to kick himself later!) Also included was one from his schoolfriend “Bitsy” – who described Elvis as a kid who wore overalls and shirts that were too big for him and not a good athlete but never afraid to try. He and Elvis tried to get into the fair free one afternoon by climbing under the fence. They were caught and marched up to the front gate and sent on their way. Bitsy didn’t see him after the Presleys moved to Memphis until 1956 when Elvis came back to the same fair to perform – Bitsy remarked that this time he was escorted in and given the key to the city. He also noted that Elvis was wearing a well fitting shirt and definitely no overalls !

The recordings on the ipad (with which each guest is provided for their tour of Graceland) and the tags on exhibits all tell a similar story of the man – someone who never forgot his background or the people in it, including his family for whom he lovingly cared for and housed.

The picture painted was of an adult who was religious, obsessive, who liked to have fun, a man who was generous and kind to everyone, no matter their colour or beliefs.

What’s that you say? This information is in a museum devoted to Elvis and is going to be biased? Well, yes, I have considered that. And I must admit, there are no fat photos of Elvis anywhere in sight in Graceland nor any mention of how he died and even the staff seemed to be genuine fans (one older Afro-American guide asked why I wouldn’t want a photo of the wall-sized King because it was such a lovely picture of him).

I believe that, given the fact that the conclusion I have come to is not only based on explicit information but the implied as well and that, considering we allow the ordinary guy, in his demise, a public display and recall of the good and ignorance of the ugly – I can, with conviction still believe that Elvis was that all round good guy who I can tenderly love.