Elvis & I, a Brush with Fame (based on actual events)
"I don't work on January 8, 'cause that's the King's birthday."
. . . from the movie D.C. Cab
I was almost an in-law to the King of Rock and Roll. Before you pshaw, scoff and make other guttural noises, let me explain.
Everybody has to start somewhere and Elvis was no exception. Contrary to urban legend, the doctor did not declare, "Elvis has left the womb," whereupon the King immediately started shaking those hips and singing, Don't Be Cruel. It would have made great copy but it just wasn't so. No, he paid his dues in the small arenas around the Mid South.
My brush with fame happened in one of these venues.
In a small town in Arkansas, a virtually unknown Elvis was performing. Attending this show was the lady who one day would become known as, my mother-in-law. While mingling with the crowd during a break, Elvis came upon this pretty lady and with a wink asked her, "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"
I'm sorry, but I would've thought the soon-to-be King of Rock and Roll would have had better material than that. With that suave lady killing line it's a wonder he didn't become the Court Jester of Rock and Roll.
Of course, if that had happened where would that have left Mick Jagger?
Most women might have swooned to have Elvis' attention flung their way. Not so with my mother-in-law. She wasn't impressed with his gyrating hips or his sultry singing lips. In fact she considered it despicable, as did many back in the early days or rock and roll. She summarily dismissed him by simply getting up and walking away. Elvis went his way and she hers, never the twain to meet again.
Now you're thinking, how in the world can I think I've had a brush with fame where Elvis was concerned? Stay with me.
My mother-in-law bore three daughters. In the journey of my life I just happened to bump into one of them. After the police finished with their report, I asked her, "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" She asked if I thought I was Elvis or something. Evidently her mother's encounter had made quiet an impression. After that, the police told her she'd have to see a judge to get a restraining order.
Convincing her I wasn't a politician or a Shriner, she dropped that last thought.
As luck would have it, she took a liking to me. Eventually we married. Of my mother-in-law's three daughters, she was the oldest.
If, instead of spurning Elvis' advances, my mother-in-law had succumbed to his charms and said, "Viva Las Vegas," then run off and married him, she would've been the mother of Elvis' only daughter. Seeing as how Marilyn was the first child my mother-in-law had, she would, therefore, have been Lisa Marie.
That would've made for great copy where I'm concerned. My luck, however, doesn't run that way. I'm lucky that Marilyn is still married to me. As it was, she was about two when my mother-in-law had the close encounter of the Elvis kind. If she'd run off with Elvis then, Marilyn's younger sister would've been Lisa Marie.
That would have made me the brother-in-law to the son-in-law of Elvis.
Right now you're probably thinking I'm all shook up. Unh huh. Whoa oh. Yeah, yeah.
All this notwithstanding, I'd just like to say, "Thankya . . . thankya veramuch."
© 2007 Michael Wicinski
. . . from the movie D.C. Cab
I was almost an in-law to the King of Rock and Roll. Before you pshaw, scoff and make other guttural noises, let me explain.
Everybody has to start somewhere and Elvis was no exception. Contrary to urban legend, the doctor did not declare, "Elvis has left the womb," whereupon the King immediately started shaking those hips and singing, Don't Be Cruel. It would have made great copy but it just wasn't so. No, he paid his dues in the small arenas around the Mid South.
My brush with fame happened in one of these venues.
In a small town in Arkansas, a virtually unknown Elvis was performing. Attending this show was the lady who one day would become known as, my mother-in-law. While mingling with the crowd during a break, Elvis came upon this pretty lady and with a wink asked her, "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"
I'm sorry, but I would've thought the soon-to-be King of Rock and Roll would have had better material than that. With that suave lady killing line it's a wonder he didn't become the Court Jester of Rock and Roll.
Of course, if that had happened where would that have left Mick Jagger?
Most women might have swooned to have Elvis' attention flung their way. Not so with my mother-in-law. She wasn't impressed with his gyrating hips or his sultry singing lips. In fact she considered it despicable, as did many back in the early days or rock and roll. She summarily dismissed him by simply getting up and walking away. Elvis went his way and she hers, never the twain to meet again.
Now you're thinking, how in the world can I think I've had a brush with fame where Elvis was concerned? Stay with me.
My mother-in-law bore three daughters. In the journey of my life I just happened to bump into one of them. After the police finished with their report, I asked her, "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" She asked if I thought I was Elvis or something. Evidently her mother's encounter had made quiet an impression. After that, the police told her she'd have to see a judge to get a restraining order.
Convincing her I wasn't a politician or a Shriner, she dropped that last thought.
As luck would have it, she took a liking to me. Eventually we married. Of my mother-in-law's three daughters, she was the oldest.
If, instead of spurning Elvis' advances, my mother-in-law had succumbed to his charms and said, "Viva Las Vegas," then run off and married him, she would've been the mother of Elvis' only daughter. Seeing as how Marilyn was the first child my mother-in-law had, she would, therefore, have been Lisa Marie.
That would've made for great copy where I'm concerned. My luck, however, doesn't run that way. I'm lucky that Marilyn is still married to me. As it was, she was about two when my mother-in-law had the close encounter of the Elvis kind. If she'd run off with Elvis then, Marilyn's younger sister would've been Lisa Marie.
That would have made me the brother-in-law to the son-in-law of Elvis.
Right now you're probably thinking I'm all shook up. Unh huh. Whoa oh. Yeah, yeah.
All this notwithstanding, I'd just like to say, "Thankya . . . thankya veramuch."
© 2007 Michael Wicinski
posted by Michael Wicinski at 8:40 PM
1 comments
