“I’m going to Graceland, Graceland, Memphis Tennessee…”
So sang Paul Simon, and so we did, for Nana. (Even if a stray wedding couple insisted on photo-bombing the group shot…).
The myth of the man was ever present….
….no mention of the tawdry end to his life.
It was perfectly wonderful, and without fault.
The surviving twin, of his Mammy’s first birth, Elvis Aaron Presley was a natural talent moulded into a worldwide phenomenon; a man who seemed to remain humble, and never forgot his impoverished beginnings.
And Graceland, once we were inside, actually felt like a home, for all its glitter and glam, it felt like a safe haven.
Replete with a shrine….
It’s a long stretch, despite what was on sale in the gift shop, to believe that Elvis single handedly ‘made America great’, in shades of political opportunism…
…but to hear his soft crooning as an eery muzak throughout the venue was kind of comforting, and quite soothing.
Gracie fell in love with the pink Cadillac, and just pleaded to score one from the gift shop (you’ll see her pink Cadillac star in upcoming posts in the road trip).
So Nana could feel young again…
And then, in keeping with the prodigious appetite developed by Elvis in his waning years, we’d heard of a fried chicken house in Memphis we just had to try….
Hot and spicy it was!
With locally brewed amber ale, and soda pop for the kiddies!
Under the watchful eye of her new owner…
Next day, we were off to the Civil Rights Museum.
That’s the next post.