Elvis

It’s hard to believe it’s been thirty years, isn’t it? I’ve read the stories about the vigil at Graceland and I have to admit to having a few emotional moments. Nothing else has the power to get to me in such a way. It’s easy for people to laugh at how Elvis looked those last few years but they tend to forget that this man changed the face of music forever and that’s how he should be remembered. He was cruelly used and abused by an evil man who saw him merely as a meal ticket and saw nothing wrong in working him to death. He was on those painkillers for a reason, folks. I get really angry when I think about how he was made to do those movies when he was clearly so unhappy and how his dream of acting was never realised because he wasn’t given the chance to be anything other than Elvis.

Let me tell you about my Elvis. I fell in love with this man when I was barely out of nappies and far too young to even appreciate his music. My parents aren’t music fans but my mum did love watching his films when they came on TV. I was totally enchanted by the man with the great sense of humour and the beautiful smile. It was a long time before I learned to appreciate him for his music, even though my parents indulged me and bought his albums. The first album had Vegas Elvis on the cover and I guess even then I knew this wasn’t the real Elvis.

I don’t like Vegas Elvis and never will and I can’t stand the impersonators who have tarnished his image. For me, the real Elvis is the raw, sexy young man who burst onto the music scene in the Fifties and caused a sensation. The Hillbilly Cat.

I still remember the moment my mum told me he’d died and I was devastated. He was my first love and I guess my first experience with death. There will never, ever be anyone like him again. He touched the hearts of so many people and his star will never diminish.