Hail to the King, baby
Today marks the 34th anniversary of the death of Elvis Presley, one of the best-known pop culture figures of the 20th century.
I’ve always felt a connection to Elvis, even though he died when I was just 2. He was my mom’s favorite, and I learned about music listening to her old LPs. I think she had every Elvis record, so I was familiar with much of the King of Rock and Roll’s output before starting school. You could do worse than to start with the birth of rock and roll as the basis for your future musical taste. And while at times I may have gravitated towards the questionable end of the Elvis influence in some of my teenage tastes, it certainly wasn’t the fault of having a foundation in the music of the Hillbilly Cat.
Like most, I prefer the young, unspoiled Elvis, but I can work up some enthusiasm for most every era at my current juncture; the leather-clad Comeback Special to the super-hero reminiscent jumpsuits. (Elvis always had a bit of the superhero about him — he read Captain Marvel Jr. comics as a kid, and reportedly based his hairstyle on that of the character.)
Fourteen years ago, I was married on the 20th anniversary of Elvis’ death. Annette and I didn’t specifically plan it that way, but as we’re both fans of the King, it was nice serendipity.

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