Thursday, July 18, 2019

An Elvis Love Story -

Back in my college 90’s a friend and I took a pilgrimage, an American pilgrimage, to Graceland. For my friend it was more for the kitsch, but for me I grew up on Elvis. My parents listened to Elvis; they were huge fans of Elvis Presley. I remember they would put on Elvis, and dance. (Wise men say, only fools rush in, but I can’t help, falling in love with you). My father would come from behind my mom, wrap his arms around her and they would begin to sway, dancing back and forth. Then they went into the bedroom for a while. I did not know why back then except I got to watch TV really loud for a ½ hour.
My parents even looked like Elvis and Priscilla, my father with his jet-black greased hair and my mom with her thick eyeliner and high hair. And I was their little Lisa Marie.
My father and I used to watch Elvis movies together and make up our own verses to his cheesy songs.
My favorite was from the movie, Harem Scarem, the song, If You Scratcha My Back. We sang the lyrics as, “ If you picka my nose, then I’ll picka your nose”.
Once on a trip to Seaside (way before the T.V. show Jersey Shore), my father and I took a trip on the Ferris wheel. He paid the operator to keep us up top while he sang Blue Hawaii to me.
He sang, while I screamed my lungs out in horror, we had a wonderful relationship of love and torture. So needless to say Elvis was all good to me, he was King in our house.

I loved Graceland, and you will too, spare no expense, go for the full package tour, the mansion, the Elvis car museum and the Lisa Marie Airplane.
I found his home welcoming, it reminded me of my grandparents house. It had the same setup inside, Living room and dining room on the first floor, finished basement downstairs.
I love the color schemes of Graceland. The red, yellow and blue waterfall in the jungle room, the yellow and black TV room and the blue and gold peacock room divider in the dining room. The divider reminded me of my parents’ red and black bull and matador room divider. Last but not least, the orange and green interior of the Lisa Marie airplane
The memorial gardens were very Roman, very Staten Island.
I enjoyed sitting back watching those who paid their respects to the king. There was an identical twin convention in town, and I don’t know if you know this but Elvis was a twin. I met many people with similar names with similar faces, like Jim and Tim, Shelly and Kelly and the Johnson’s, twins who married each other.
I saw middle age couples in matching bowling and Hawaiian shirts holding hands and falling in love all over again. Made me think if my father were still alive, would my parents of made the trip together, holding hands, dancing to Cant Help Falling in Love.
I thought this would be a good time to call my mom. “Hey mom, I’m in Graceland”
“Graceland? “, she says.
Now normally she would respond with what the hell are ya doing there?
But instead without skipping a beat she asks, “Did you go see the mansion ?“ I said, “yeah and they have a room divider like we did” “ Ohh yeaahh” she says with a smile in her voice. She then asks about the rest of the tour. “Did you watch any of the old movies at the car museum, what were they playing? “ ‘Don’t forget to go see the Lisa Marie plane, its orange inside, your favorite color”, she says.
My mom and I were connecting for the first time since I can remember. All these wonderful memories of the people I love are coming back to me, Elvis did that, Graceland did that, this place is truly magical.
A decade or so pass to 2009, I am in Ireland. I am returning after 20 years. I have not been there since 1989, when I said goodbye to the love of my life. I met him in 85 when I was in Europe looking for mods, men who looked like Paul Weller from the Jam. I did not find him, instead I found a cocky, self-assured Irish soldier. We had a love affair that was something that they write about in fairy tales. He was funny, good looking, sometimes an asshole, a good dancer, a good man and my man.

But unlike fairytales we were too young for our love we went wrong. Living on different sides of the pond gave us opportunity to stray. I went with Danny and he got a girl pregnant, and in Ireland you get married. So in 1989, I went back to Ireland, I wished him well, I met his new baby and wife and I left the Emerald Isle an ex-girlfriend, but still a good friend.
We still kept in touch, Christmas cards, phone calls and emails. 20 years later I am back in Ireland. We made arrangements to take a drive alone. I was scared, what were we doing? What box would we reopen? I only had that day; would I say everything, ask everything I needed, Could I handle seeing him again?
It was like 20 years between us never happen; we slipped back into a routine as easy as putting on our favorite pair of shoes. We took a drive and let the day just take us where it would. We drove fast and listened to Michael Jackson, laughing, singing, getting lost and without a care in the world.
I began to see the sea, the Atlantic, our pond, something familiar to both of us. We drove to the coast and parked the car. I got out and walked ahead to take in the view. I stopped and turned around to see where he was. He was still standing back at the car, staring at me. He was giving me that look. You know that look, the look you love that is in all the great movies. When the guy looks at her from a far, their hair is blowing in the breeze and he smiles and you know he loves her.
He walked up to me, took my hand and led me down to the beach; I felt my insides explode like the water that went crashing onto the rocks. The coast was a combination beach, and gray slate steps, which walked into the Atlantic. The color schemes were breathtaking. Blue and white water, grass that had every stage of green (the kind that you go to Ireland to see).

We went and sat on the sea wall, he put his fingers between mine. He stared at my orange fingernails and then kissed the top of my hand. I could feel the water spray my face from the sea, tap my head from the sky and pear out as a tear from my eye.
No words were needed, I knew everything I needed to know, and everything I felt was never so clear.
“You know Nance I was only in love once in my life.”, he said.
He continued, “When I am old and grey and they will ask me who was the great love of my life, and I will say you, you Nance, you were, are and will always be the love my life.”
We looked out onto the rocks and there was an elderly couple taking a walk. “That’s us, we will always love each other, till we are old and gray.”
We got up and he stood behind me. He put his hands around my waist and kissed the back of my neck and then the top of my head.
We swayed back and forth like we had the music right there, and he began to sing,
Wise men say only fools rush in…
We were in love, with us, with each other.
Time, chances, choices and circumstances would never change that.
I thought how sad, here we are, the loves of our life, but we were too late. We crossed paths years ago, but instead took different roads. But at that moment I felt lucky. How many people will truly meet the love of their life?

Years have passed and I am on this side of the pond. I can still feel the outline of his arm through his linen shirt; I can still feel the kiss on the back of my hand and hear the tin of his voice when he laughs. I still smell the soap that scented his body and see the road that took us to the pond. Today I just sit on the other side of it. And the colors are all just as vivid, green, orange, blue, gray, gold, yellow, black and red.
When the mist of the ocean hits my face, it takes right back to the shores of County Clare, and sometimes not that far to the Jersey shore where my father took me on the Ferris wheel. I can still see my father dancing with my mother and I will never forget the feeling how my love grabbed me too from behind and we danced, we all danced. And I was home, I was me, and I was loved.
and
Elvis was playing in the background.
He is, truly, the King.
(you can sing it now, wise men say , only fools rush in……)