In 1975 my mother brought home a Mickey Mouse record player. It was used from a garage sale, red, plastic, with a picture of Mickey and Minnie dancing at a sock hop on the lid. I then asked my father if he would supply me with some rock 'n roll records. Something current.

Dad has been an avid Elvis fan since "That's All Right, Mama" came out on 45's, and has been collecting ever since. Before his navy days, he had his fire engine red hair pomped high like the king, with mutton chops on the side.

So, unto his son, he bestowed his sacred Elvis Presley record collection.

I spent hours in my room listening to the #1's, trying ever so hard to get that upper-lip sneer and hip swivel he made iconic. Dad sat quietly proud of his protege, twisting and turning with a tennis racket guitar.

Sadly, the following year, Elvis Aaron Presley was found dead in his bathroom. Dad and I sat grief-stricken as we watched the televised reports, the television specials, the biopic movies; his growling voice echoed through the halls hauntingly of our home for weeks.

The year after, we took our annual family vacation and of course, we decided to head to Memphis, Tennessee.

The streets were packed around Graceland and EP Enterprises had already erected museums, strip malls, and tours of the mansion. We stood in line for hours to get the tour, i was secretly hoping to meet Lisa Marie. A few women had fainted when they reached the grave site. It was confusing for a seven year old boy who had only just began to think of Elvis as an idol.

We had purchased a lot of Elvis memorabilia, A copy of his will, t-shirts, glasses, posters, 8 tracks, I even got a brass ring that said "Elvis". During the trip, my friend whom I invited to come along, got into an argument with me and I punched him in the lip and you could just make out "sivlE" on the corner of his mouth surrounded in blood. Ah, memories!