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Aunt Susan Recalls the Day of Elvis' Vegas Show

Oh my word, I remember

every little part of that weekend,

right down to the three-piece outfit

I had purchased at Bloomingdale's

the evening previous.

 

You know, ya hear stories

left and right about people

winning tickets to this n' that,

but ya never imagine actually

being the nineteenth caller!

 

When I revealed the occasion

this baby blue ensemble would

be worn in, the cute little saleslady

paused, looked up, and said,

"Why bother seeing him anymore?"

 

And I tell ya, there's plenty

other, less Christian yearly

Graceland attendants who woulda

flipped their lids had they heard

such malarkey!

 

Still, I just couldn't deny it.

She had a bit of a point.

This was mid-70s Elvis,

mid-50s Elvis' drunk uncle.

He had gone from Rolling Stone

to National Enquirer in nothing

flat, it seemed.

 

So all I could muster was

an understanding smile, because

she couldn't help but join the

bandwagon, especially when his

gut got larger and the rumors

became more outrageous.

 

Still, their loss!

I say that to this day,

because what Little Miss Shopgirl

and the legions of non-believers

did not think to consider

was the charm in "has been" Elvis.

 

A week before this legendary

concert experience, I had been

forced by circumstance to purchase

my very first pair of bifocals!

It was also around the time,

I'm sure, Harry left me.

 

So, the main event, I'm there,

third row from the main stage,

seeing Elvis for the first time

since our crazed youthful years-

a bedazzled jumpsuit walks on stage,

and I'm on my feet before I know it!

 

There was a little less swivel in his

hips. He looked a little tired, too,

all those years of singing do that.

How did it feel, then, to see the King

make his way across a cheap fog

machine, mutton chops and

love handles galore?

 

It felt like two lifelong friends

growing old, losing all those

frivolous people together-

"Are You Lonesome Tonight"

was still asked with the same

dreamy passion in 1973.

 

I've still got the handkerchief

he threw to me that night,

**** near lost it when I

caught the thing.

 

It's blue with polka dots,

ya wanna take a gander?

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Written by
pedro-tejada
American
Published
Sep 28, 2010
Lines·Words
70·367
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