Why do we love the past? Short memories of the gravel road hardships are whipped in with long black limousine stirring tales as we talk about the good times. We end up with the ingredients mixed where the good outweighed the bad.
We can enjoy the dessert, knowing we’ve yet to taste the icing on the cake that we’ve been baking with the past. It’s that powerful past that builds us.
Could that mean the best is yet to come as we journey on? Do we learn and love more because of it or do we love more and learn through it?
Recent posts and memories of the 70’s, particularly Elvis concerts and all associated with them, positive and negative, seem to be in abundance online lately. With each flowery and flowing reminiscence I’m transported to some of my own 70’s Elvis events, front and center, transfixed on the face and the mannerisms, while the voice remains the perfect accompaniment to an earthly and heavenly visit.
Those who were fortunate to be in the right circumstances to witness first-hand the charismatic power of Elvis Presley, have a little something extra special stashed in their memory banks. But there is certainly no monopoly on the reciprocal love affair of man to fan and fan to man. Elvis took care of business just doing his thing for all people, for all time. A face to face isn’t required for this emotive club membership.
I was daydreaming. If Elvis was a flower, his voice would be the fragrance. His physical beauty would be the bouquet of rainbow colors within the bloom. His manners would provide the roots grounding him and providing a substantial connection to us. The strong stalk his legacy, holding him fast above any other entertainer. The sum of his parts is far greater than any individual collection can conjure. He is his own field of dreams to many with good reason.
There are some songs he performed that immediately stop me in my tracks whenever I hear them. Add in the visual and I’m back at 1973, a transported young teen girl sitting cross legged on her bedroom floor entranced, drinking in every last detail of my proposed soulmate’s heady fine looks. His voice sings directly to my inner being, bypassing any external blocks. Just what else was going on in my life at that exact timely moment? I have no other recollection, none.
I’ve been especially drawn to Aloha lately. Life gets busy and confusing and sometimes messy but the slow, soothing, neatness of an evening quite some time ago calms my moody blueness today. I’m one hundred percent certain there was zero thought then of that particular evening, or any other, creating such a lifelong lasting impact.
But I’m also convinced it’s in those moments of what we assume to be regular days, that the feelings intensely and intricately created become crammed into our cranium, reserved for a future withdrawal. I’m so very thankful those reserves are there.
These times don’t have to only apply to Elvis moments. There are many instances where a smell or sound or visual do exactly the same in much the same way. A lawn mower engine in the distance, a freshly cut grass smell, the sunset in our viewfinder, a specific meal cooking ….. you get the idea.
As Elvis fan connections continue to spread their offshoots and tendrils linking us, we discover we are more alike than different in our feelings. We can put competitions aside and enjoy the music and the legacy together. Isn’t there strength in numbers?
Person A saw him in concert 16 times, person B only once. Person C never had the opportunity to see him. Person D has a scarf. Person E met him and has an autograph. Person F spent time with him. Person G has seen all of his movies. Person H has a massive record collection. Person I became a fan in 54, person J in 74, person K in 2004 ….. and so on.
Who is the bigger fan? Who loves him more? Who cares? It doesn’t matter.
The point is each has their own journey and there is no gold, silver or bronze fandom awards. Don’t allow others to dictate your path. Enjoy your own yellow brick road experience.
I’m thankful for those unassuming days and events and for the ability to remember my thoughts and feelings associated with everything Elvis. I’m thankful to share and learn and to experience vicariously what others bring to the table. We are individually and collectively recipients of something unexplainable to many who don’t understand the positive power Presley provides.
Elvis is still TCB’ing for us and with us and through us.
We are the lucky ones indeed.