I’m going to Graceland, in Memphis Tennessee, I’m going to Graceland
For reasons I cannot explain, some part of me wants to see Graceland— Willie Nelson
The first time I drove into Memphis was in February 2019 during a thunderstorm. It was cold and dark and the rain was coming down so hard my windshield wipers couldn’t keep up. I had a death grip on the steering wheel as 16-wheelers flashed by, blasting my car with a wall of water.
I pulled off the freeway once and parked on a side street just to calm my nerves, but I had two choices: Sleep in the car on some side street or get back the freeway and try to find my hotel. I chose the latter, and Siri guided me turn-by-turn through the downtown spaghetti junction to my hotel on the other side of the city.
I had planned to go to Graceland the next day, but I had had enough of Memphis and decided to head south instead, stopping in Tupelo, Mississippi to see Elvis’s birthplace. A lot better, if you really loved Elvis, than Graceland.
Four months later, on my Road Trip with Annie, I drove into Memphis on an overcast afternoon, exited the freeway six miles from downtown, and made my way down Winchester Road to The Guesthouse at Graceland on Elvis Presley Boulevard.
All Shook Up was playing when I parked the car and went inside to register. I mentally rolled my eyes as that song segued into Jailhouse Rock, but the thirteen-year-old inside me was swooning. And kept swooning as Elvis’s music resounded inside and outside the hotel, day and night.
The Guest House is fairly restrained in its tributes to Elvis — no neon signs flash his image, no mannequin poses in the lobby in a sequined jumpsuit and white cape. But there is a small theater that shows Elvis’s movies, and a Peanut-Butter-and-Jelly Bar appears in the lobby from 10 to 11 pm.
In my room was a framed photograph of Elvis’s gold lame suit and an artist’s rendering of the tail fins of his 1957 Cadillac. The TV was set to one of the four Elvis channels, which included Elvis’s ’68 Comeback TV special, — I admit I watched that one (sigh) — but it was easy enough to switch channels to MSNBC or CNN.
I had planned to stay just one night in Memphis, but my computer crashed, and I spent the best part of the second day buying a new computer and setting it up.
That night I left Annie in the room and went downstairs to the lobby bar, feeling like a mommy slipping away from her baby for an evening out.
Had a martini and chicken wings from the bar menu.
Listened to Three Boys from Memphis — wearing sunglasses, short-sleeved shirts, and khakis — play rock-n-roll classics with great enthusiasm.
Watched two sturdy women my age in pink-sequined Elvis t-shirts shake their booties on the small dance floor.
Talked with the bartenders Tevana and Kayla and listened politely to a Trump supporter who told me he was personal friends with KellyAnne Conway who helped him get a Trump 45 license plate for his Mercedes.
As I was getting ready to leave I said to him, Just so you know, I think Barack Obama Is one of the greatest Presidents ever, and I’m a big fan of Mayor Pete.
I never did get to Graceland.
The tours were full, so Annie and I walked past the stone wall in front of the Mansion which I could glimpse through the trees. Vicki had told me it was unimpressive, but I suppose that depends on your perspective. The grounds were lush and green, and the stone wall was covered with 50 years’ worth of names and messages to Elvis.
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