2001-08-19 - 3:57 p.m.
Got back from Graceland on Friday....there certainly isn't another place like it, that's for sure...well, maybe someplace like the Sistine Chapel or St. Patrick's cathedral...may seem like a stretch comparing the home of an entertainer to religious landmarks, but the way people flock there to worship him is unreal.
From every corner of every building, a man appears dressed like Elvis...with a hideously crafted jumpsuit and revolting sideburns...Elvis is one of those people that just shouldn't be impersonated...he was too talented, too good-looking..but I guess they are paying tribute to him in the ultimate, and most terrifying way....
The heaps of flowers and wreaths around the grave are mindblowing...people spill out their souls to him in cards..."Your music shaped my life..." "I still miss you everyday..." "Your voice fills every room in my house...." You're not sure whether to be extremely touched, or extremely bugged out...so you come away with a heady mixture of both....
During the two days we were there (it was the 24th anniversary of his death, and what they call "Elvis Week") we saw people from all over the world...Argentina, Japan, Hong Kong, Germany, England... People from all walks of life...from 5 months old to 80+...people in wheelchairs, the blind, the barely able to walk... It is the most fucked up thing to think that all these people are here (12-15,000) to pay their respects to a singer who has been dead for 24 years...and are willing to line up for hours (some were there from 7AM) to get a few fleeting moments to walk past his grave...
It's very emotional for me to walk on his property, to walk through his kitchen, his living room...you feel a lot of pain for this man that America built and destroyed in one fell swoop. You see how truly fragile an entertainer's life can be...
Some people are revolted by him, can't stand him, think he's a fat Vegas sleaze...but to me, there is something so beautiful and vulnerable and childlike in his smile...I can't help but feel his presence in his house...and even in a broader sense, the whole city of Memphis.
On the flip side of the coin, I don't I ever want to see another southern woman with a bouffant or stretch pants again...and I've seen enough gold teeth to pay for my children's college education...
