Me and Elvis

When I was a little girl, my family was visiting in Memphis.  I'm not sure why, except maybe to take my grandmother to the airport.  Anyhow, my father knew where Elvis lived and he drove us to his house.  To hear my father tell it, he talked to the guard/caretaker who said that Elvis wasn't in town, and so the guard/caretaker let us drive up to Elvis's house.  I wouldn't believe it myself, except that we have video of us in front of Elvis's house - which I would post if I could figure out how to cut that little part from the 8-bazillion-hour dvd we have of all those home movies.

Fast forward about a zillion years, and I was working in an office after I had graduated from college.  I had graduated in May, Steve had asked me to marry him, and we were getting married in August (yes, about 10 weeks later which put my very Southern mama into tailspin, figuring out how to throw a Southern wedding in 10 weeks).  Anyhow, I was working as a data processor (if you're not old enough to remember or know about putting data on long cardboard cards and feeding them into a computer, then you're too young to sit and have me explain) when one of the ladies in the office came out and told us that Elvis had died.  The next several hours were spent with the very tearful ladies in the office figuring out if they could get a carload together to go to Graceland in Memphis to mourn The King.  Seriously.  Of course I couldn't go because I had a wedding (mine) to attend four days later.

So, you can imagine my surprise when another zillion years later, after finishing a half-marathon in Virginia Beach, that I spotted Elvis and of course had my picture made with him.   Guess it really WAS a rumor of his demise!!  At least I can show you this picture ...

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The Good Stuff From Today:  Everley time; sitting with a sleeping baby; Steve and Mathieu's safe travel to/from Mississippi