Those that decorate their walls with, Elvis paintings, aglow under black lights, are cool with me.
Many of my friends like Elvis.
Playing Elvis’s greatest hits on guitar is a favorite pastime. He’s in my voice range. That is, in no way, an insinuation my singing voice, comes close to the King of Rock and Roll.
So, how did the rumor start?
By me, not keeping my big mouth shut, about my spouse keeping the car radio tuned to the All Elvis All the Time satellite station. At almost sixty-eight years of age, you’d think I would know better.
There’s an “Elvis #1, Tennessee license plate, nailed to the wall of my workshop.
Heck, I’ve even made the pilgrimage to Graceland. It was as I expected–frozen in time to 1977, the year Elvis died.
Some folks liked the Beatles, some liked Elvis. Why can’t someone–like myself, like both?
What more can I do or say to squelch this vicious rumor?
For the umpteenth time, “I don’t hate Elvis!”