This Tuesday, the 16th of August, marks the 45th anniversary of the death of the King of Rock and Roll. Through almost a half century since his passing, his star shines clear and bright in the hearts of his loyal fans. Elvis was more than a performer, but a true American icon.
While there is no doubt that his physical presence “left the building “long ago, anyone who doubts his spirit lives on need but travel to Memphis from August the 10th through the 17th, what the locals call “Elvis week.” The King lives on in the hearts, minds and wallets of his faithful. Almost a half century since his passing his memory holds a grip that if you don’t get it, you never will. If you do, you always shall.
I confess, I truly am an Elvis fan. CDs, cassettes, albums, trips to Graceland, the bust downstairs in the Casino room, the sunglasses. I have always celebrated his birthday on the 8th of January. with a jelly donut, and absolutely love the tribute shows by Steve Davis, and ELVIS - the new movie on his life - is just fabulous. But while I can appreciate them, I have never really been attracted to the ceremonies on the anniversary of his death. But there is a celebration of his life.
Historic Beale Street is crowded with all varieties of foreign tourists, the Delta rhythm sung by French, Italian and German Elvises. His symbol of his business – Taking Care of Business (TCB) appears on necklaces, pendants and the city engages in a week long party. But the end, a serious note, perhaps the most well-known, the candlelight vigil in front of Graceland on August 15th, the eve of his passing.
At 8:30 the gates open to allow in the crowd, some of whom having been waiting 48 hours. They hold one lit candle and pass silently by the gravesite in quiet remembrance. The gates remain open until all who so wish would have walked past, usually until the mid-morning of the next day. While I have not been part of the ceremony myself, I understand it power. The question is why?
What compels so many to walk by the burial site of a man they did not know, to travel thousands of miles to pay respects for a singer dead for almost five decades? What compels so many to walk reverently by the grave of a man they never met, but felt they knew?
The answer is the music, the way Elvis makes you feel. The feeling that you cannot sit still after the first chords of “All Shook Up” or “Return to Sender,” the way you marvel at the power of the vocals in “Burning Love” or “Suspicious Minds,” or just feel the vitality of “Viva Las Vegas,” or the rockin’ dynamics of his last hit… “A little Less Conversation, a Little More Action.“
But mostly, it is comfort, a feeling that you are going to be fine, just the way that you are. That it is just fine to be fond of a few carbohydrates, as the King was himself. That it is just fine to dress trashy, with some flash, that it is perfectly acceptable to have few body parts jiggle when you rock and roll – as long as you keep on rocking.
I have been to several Steve Davis Elvis tribute shows and they never disappoint. For this ever so brief period, reality is suspended, fantasy takes over and Elvis lives. The pungent smell of marijuana is replaced by the sweet smell of Estee Lauder, as so many of the fans live out a something that may or not have ever really happened to them, but is real enough that night. We may not be perfect, but tonight we are “All right, Mama.”
Elvis was an original, a snarling rebel, the personification of Cool, the true one and only King of Rock and Roll. But ultimately, he remained what Ed Sullivan called him “a really nice boy,“ one who’s intact memory reaches out across the miles, across the ages.
Like I said, either you get it or you don’t. If you do, then you know from whence I speak. If you do not, I sincerely appreciate your time in reading this piece. Thank you, thank you very much. TCB