Elvis, Mum and Me
Thank You, Thank You Very Much (for the Memories)
I have always loved Elvis Presley; the most handsome man to walk the earth. His music still thrills me, even if his first single release was 70 years ago. That’s All Right (Mama), it just means that his music is timeless. My mum is also an Elvis fan. She experienced his explosion onto the music scene first-hand when she was a teen and still listens to his music today. Perhaps my love of Elvis was passed onto me by some kind of in-utero osmosis?
The day that Elvis died is saved deep in my memory. Dad returned before breakfast from the newsagent’s, clutching a newspaper with Elvis’ photo, headline ( The King is Dead) and details of his death on the front page. Longing for more information, we had to wait for the lunchtime news bulletin. It was a long wait. No 24 hour news channels in 1977.
Mum bought me a turquoise T-shirt with ‘The King Lives’ emblazoned on it. I wore it thin. I went on to develop varying musical tastes but Elvis was a constant. At times uncool. Did I care? Absolutely not. Always on my mind. Pertinently, renewed interest in Elvis and his life has recently surfaced in two major movies. Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis (2022) and Sofia Coppola’s Priscilla (2023). Have I seen them? You bet.
Mum and I have a close relationship. We enjoy spending time together, having similar interests (other than Elvis). But what we’d never done was travel together, just us. So, exactly 20 years ago, we put that right. We travelled to the Deep South in the USA. The trip included Memphis and the high temple for Elvis fans, Graceland.
In February 2004, Mum and I boarded a plane, unsupervised, to Atlanta. It was strange to not have my (then, young) sons and husband with me. Actually, in truth, it was, (say it quietly) liberating. Life was hectic. Work, school and juggled schedules dominated. Mum and I were free to travel, pleasing only ourselves. How exciting, what an opportunity. We could talk if and when we felt like it with no one interrupting, no one wanting something.
Some friends had expressed surprise. They couldn’t do it they said; ‘mine would drive me crazy’, ‘she’d get on my nerves,’ ‘we’d run out of things to talk about.’ I had no such worries. I saw this as a privileged time to re-connect as adults. And I was right. No awkward silences, no disagreements. Instead, an easy appreciation of each other’s company.
Travelling through Georgia and Alabama to Mississippi, we stayed in a hotel in Biloxi with a casino. What a culture shock. People drinking beer, playing the card tables and chancing their luck on fruit machines at 7am? On to Louisiana and New Orleans. We cruised the Mississippi River on a steamboat, visited one of the many famous cemeteries and walked down Bourbon Street to omnipresent jazz. During a bus journey, we overheard a woman telling her friend that her shack had fallen down. We glanced wide eyed at each other… had we really heard that right? Then, finally, an Amtrak train journey from New Orleans to Memphis, Tennessee and… Graceland.
We stayed at the Heartbreak Hotel, ( now closed) across the street from Graceland, with a heart -shaped swimming pool and Elvis movies 24/7. We woke early on our first morning to visit Elvis’ grave. Visitors are allowed to enter Graceland’s Meditation Garden, free of charge, before the house opens, to pay their respects. Walking up the wrong part of the drive, we were ticked off by security. Too excited, we’d not listened properly to directions at the gatehouse. Then, alone in the Memphis drizzle, we were silent at Elvis’ grave. No words needed. A Little Less Conversation.
Later, we visited the house. It was so familiar. I’d already been there many times before, in my mind. It’s surprisingly small, a family home. We toured the dining room, living room, kitchen and the fabulously kitsch Jungle Room. We saw his jewellery, guns and white jumpsuits. Spotting his black leather ’69 Comeback Special suit gave me Fever. We marvelled at Priscilla’s tiny wedding dress, boarded his planes, saw his car collection and walls and walls of his gold discs. It was electrifying. He lived here.
Mum and I have often spoken of when we would travel together again. It hasn’t yet happened. Life has moved on for us both. My two sons are adults and my role is one of consultant mum. Conversely, my mum is my dad’s full-time carer. The time is not now. Did our travel experience have a profound effect on me? Honestly, no. It just reinforced what an honour it was to travel with my mum, just us. And if it never happens again, how fitting that we will always have Elvis.
