GRACELAND

Now, I'm trying to sort out exactly why I was so drawn to the idea of visiting Graceland. I'm not a huge out-of-control Elvis fan. As I've already said, I'm not usually very interested in museums. Or houses, for that matter. It was bound to be incredibly tacky and crowded. It was kind of a rip-off.
But there's something legendary about the trip to Graceland. Blame Paul Simon if you must. Maybe it makes me a poser. But it was first on my list.

We went straight there. There was a big complex with multiple gift shops, cafes, and ticket sales. We bought our tickets, and went out to get in line. The line was to get on the "Elivs Express," a little bus that would take us across the street to the door of the mansion. They distributed headsets for the audio tour. They lined us up and took our picture in front of a mural that looked like the gates of the mansion that we could buy later. Some kind of Elivs Greatest Hits album played on repeat over the loudspeaker. And when our turn came, we boarded the bus.


And then, we started on the tour of the mansion. Most of it has been kept intact -- actual rooms, set up the way they were when Elvis lived there. The upstairs -- his private spaces, bedroom, dressing area -- aren't open to the public. I really like that. Some small measure of respect in an industry based on people out-tackying each other. We saw his living room, his kitchen, his dining room, his TV room, his parents' bedroom, his pool room (complete with table damaged by a friend's risky trick shot,) squash courts, his father's office, a trophy room. . . the list goes on. Though much of it was a little extravagant, what really struck me was that it looked like somebody's house. Somebody's house decorated in the 70's. But he lived there. Not to say that there weren't all kinds of crazy things no one I know would ever have in their houses. A personal favorite was the "Jungle Room".


There were also exibits set up around the estate, detailing different phases of his life, his early recording career, his many, many awards, his movie career, his time in the army, his return to the stage, and, most touchingly, his charity. There was a display of canceled checks he'd written to organizations and individuals who needed his help. Yes, we saw gaudy costumes and gold records, but these looks at the kind of person he was spoke to me a lot more.
(I know, I know, at this point, even those seemingly authentic touches are largely manufactured, but I can't help but be fascinated by the "man behind the legend" phenomenon. The most famous person in the world is still a person.)
Now, I'm sure at least one of you will be disappointed without a glittery jumpsuit, so here ya go.

Now, back to my musings. The tour ended in a "Meditation Garden." Which is actually the graves of Elvis and his family. It was really nice.
Somehow I expected the whole thing to feed a kind of Elvis-mania. Elvis Lives. The King. All that. But it had the opposite effect on me. It made me think of him in a much less sensational light. I'm really, really glad I went.

Now, all this somber musing didn't prevent us from hitting the gift shop. Here's a souvenir I didn't buy. But all three of us procured some Elvis shot glasses, bearing the slogans "Burning Love" and "All Shook Up." Also, some post cards and a key chain.

This, by the way, was the first time we observed our natural tendencies in exhibit-viewing. All three of us listened to the whole audio tour, but somehow, Betsy finished first by about ten minutes. Then, I came out. And finally, another ten or fifteen later, Liz. I like to blame this on the fact that she's a huge nerd. But luckily, there was a nice little gazebo by the meditation garden to protect us from that fierce Memphis sun while we waited for her.

We'd spent a good deal of the early afternoon swimming in Elvis bliss, but we still had a few things left to hit in Memphis. Stay turned for our AAA city-map induced trip past a really fabulous-looking motel, and some other great landmarks!