Friday, Aug. 16, 2002
Dear Diary:

So you're planning to eat something fried today In His Memory, right?

Yep, today is the 25th anniversary of Elvis' death.

Oh, as if you didn't know.

And I think all that needs to be said about the cross-cultural appeal of the man is the fact that there are Chinese Elvis Impersonators.

Oh yes, Elvis may have left the building, but clearly it will be a while before he leaves pop culture.

I was a bit too young to be on the Elvis bandwagon when he first came out, but my older cousins in Ottawa (who I considered to be the most sophisticated women on the planet) worshipped him and plastered every inch of wall in their shared bedroom with Elvis pictures.

Yep, the room of two bobby-socked, poodle-skirted, pony-tailed high school girls was the first Elvis shrine I ever saw. It's hard to believe but here we are nearly 40 years later and the cult continues, which is more than you can say about the poodle skirt.

Man, I still want a poodle skirt.

There are some things you never get over.

I must confess that when the Beatles came out I joined the heavy Elvis mockage. That Old Has Been? Who would listen to THAT greaseball anymore? So I busily swooned over a bunch of British boy bands that I was convinced would last forever.

I know my three loyal readers all still have Gerry and the Pacemakers, The Dave Clark Five, Herman's Hermits and Chad and Jeremy in heavy rotation on their MP3 lists.

You know, those bands that would last forever, not like that old has been Elvis.

.:cough:.

I think it was sometime in the '80's, heavily under the influence of disco--oh yes, I'm blaming disco and I think we can ALL agree that disco SHOULD be blamed for EVERY questionable life decision--that I bought my first Elvis hits compilation.

I think I was trying to be, um, you know, satirical or something.

Except, uh, except that I found that after playing the tape a few times that the music actually grew on me.

Oh man, this is so humiliating.

Okay, here goes.

Not only do I know all the words to songs with words like, "Baby let me be your lovin' teddy bear" um, er, ah I also sometimes sing along with them.

Loudly.

Which I will be doing today, because, well, for whatever reason the guy is an icon.

But even I have my limits.

So yes, I will be eating something fried in Elvis' honour, but it WON'T be his beloved fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

A woman has to have SOME pride, eh?

--Marn

P.S.--You want more proof that The King will NEVER die? Well, take a look at Mini Presidente, the son of one of my favourite partners in crime and the love of his life.

Old Drivel - New Drivel


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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

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