elvis is my heritage. he's in my family tree.
to me, this mississippi boy is memphis. stick me anywhere in the world, and if elvis is there, i am home.
it's not about the songs or the hair or the life drama or the fact that there was always something more than a little naughty about the leather jumpsuits, the mother love, and the 14-year-old girl. it's nothing to do with any of this.
it's all about that voice. a voice that captures better than any other thing in this world the aching and frustration and bother and beauty of being from memphis.
[as a random concluding addendum to our dead week festivities- today i wore blue rhinestone heels and i honestly felt that i was more productive and more mentally clear and more able to solve other people's problems throughout the day than i have been in weeks. had someone brought their autistic child to me, it is very possible i could've cured him too. all this because i was wearing rhinestones and blue shoes. ah, the power of the elvischrist.]
3 comments:
elvischrist!!!!
he lives!
"it's all about that voice"
Indeed.
I always wonder what the world and music would be like today if Elvis, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison were all still alive?
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