Elvis Presley's hair is punk rock

Punk rockers will tell you that without Elvis Presley, there is no punk rock. He took the rock and blues of African American Memphis, added his own twist, and brought it to white culture with style. Rockabilly, baby.
But there are more ways than sound to call up punk's rich history. Like any musical genre, its tuneful stylings are one element of its identity. There are the clothes. There is the choice of instrument. And there is the hair. Elvis's slickened masculine-yet-sensitive tsunami wave of a strutting peacock's darkened headfeathers, the pompadour, summons the spirit of punk as much as a black leather jacket and scuffed combat boots. So says a punk rocker.
What does a pompadour say about overthrowing the system? Not much, directly. But it lets us know: there is another way. For hair, that is. And that's all it takes: one little indication that things can be different, starting with how we present our own physical selves to society. Now add in waggling hips and sounds that broke racial barriers, and freedom has a face and body. The King of Rock n' Roll. And his scions today.

Co-host Elvis Week, pay more taxes

You'll have to make a video explaining why you're right for the job of co-hosting Elvis Week with Memphis Jones. Call your accountant while you're at it. Here's a bit from the contest details (pdf): "Grand Prize winner will receive an IRS Form 1099 for the actual value of Grand Prize. Approximate retail value (ARV) of Grand Prize: $4,480." That's some pretty miscellaneous income.

Alas, always Elvis Presley's crypt

Once someone buys Elvis Presley's unoccupied crypt, will it remain a memorial to the King? Burial sites preserve memories, and the persona of Elvis is one of the largest monuments in our collective story. What person could possibly overcome the force of the man's fame? This tomb will forever be the place where Elvis once lay, no matter who comes to fill it next. As admirable as that is, it is also asphyxiating. All things must end, even memories. Hanging onto them is like being stranded in the sea and missing the solid ground a short swim away because we focus on clutching a piece of our destroyed vessel. You live, but what life?

The auctioneer sells us a chance to be remembered with the King. The buyer, and the dead he brings, should try to be more.

But forget all that. Get out your $100,000, start bidding and be remembered as the guy who was buried in Elvis's crypt.

Elvis Presley punched a wall

Folks who went to Humes High School in Memphis with Elvis have a lot of stories to tell about the King of Rock n' Roll as a teenager. It's hard to imagine him in all the situations described, but it brings a depth to him when you learn there is more to him than music, hip swiveling and charming a crowd. To learn that he once punched a wall, made a magazine rack, lacked school supplies, made girls blush, showed politeness, wore an usher's uniform to class and sat next to a boy with a mohawk (who was he?), is to know that great achievement is perhaps built upon familiar foundations.

Below are the nine stories about Elvis shared by former classmates of the King:

1. I have in my office right now a magazine rack that Elvis and I made together in woodshop.
2. My cousin, Dorothy Jackson, and I were monitors stationed outside the entrance to the library to make sure that students checked out their books properly and to maintain order in the hall between classes. Whenever Elvis Presley walked by we would look at each other and laugh and giggle. (We both had a crush on him.) One day he walked up to Dorothy and asked her why we laughed when he walked by. She was so dumbfounded that she blurted out "It's because we think you are so good-looking." I guess he was surprised also; he just broke into a grin and walked away. I was just sitting there with the reddest face that a girl could ever have. Whenever I'm embarrassed, I blush so badly that I feel as though my face will ignite. My face didn't ignite but from then on whenever I would see Elvis coming down the hall, I would stick my face into a book and not look up.
3. Elvis was in my 12th grade homeroom, Mrs. Mildred Scrivener, 12-5. She was not particular about whether we sat, stood or wandered around as long as we showed up for roll call. Elvis would lean on a desk and just pass the time of day with everyone. We all knew that he was different, very, very, different. But, we all had the same goal of graduating and getting out in the real world. We later found out just how different he was.
4. Elvis and I were in Miss Alexander's homeroom in the 11th grade. She taught music, so the classroom was a music room. She divided our class into an "L" shape with boys on one side and girls on the other side. Elvis sat in the front row next to a guy sporting a Mohawk haircut. I sat in the second row of girls so I could see him very well and I often stared at him because there was something about him that I really liked. He didn't dress or act like the rest of the boys. He always had a lock of hair hanging to the side of his face. He had a serious expression most of the time during the beginning of the school year. But, later in the year, he surprised us by playing his guitar before school several mornings. He didn't sing; he just played. He was accompanied on the grand piano by another student, Warren Gregory. We really enjoyed the impromptu jam sessions, but we kept our eyes peeled for Miss Alexander because we weren't real sure how she would react to our choice of music. We never found out because she never showed up while they were playing. Elvis was very polite and respectful to all the teachers. He always addressed them as "Maam" and "Sir". He seemed very shy and I identified with him since I was shy, too. It was a very special year for me. I remember him driving a maroon convertible; I believe it was a Lincoln. Sometimes He wore dark colored pants with a stripe down the sides. I found out later that they were part of his movie usher uniform
5. I really didn't have too many experiences with Elvis at Humes, although, I do remember going riding in his old car. We talked in the halls mostly. I got to know him better after we graduated. I was working at Crown Electric when Elvis was hired as the delivery boy. We became friends. Our bosses told Elvis he should get rid of his guitar and do something useful. When he delivered materials to my job site one day we talked about his future. I told him that I would try to get him in the apprentice program if he wanted me to. He thanked me and said he was going to try his luck with music first because he really liked it.
6. Some thoughts about Elvis. We were both Mississippi boys who had come to the big city. We understood each other. We had shop together in the 10th grade. When we weren't working on our project, we spent our time in the bathroom pitching pennies. Elvis got so mad one day that he punched the shop wall and almost broke his hand. I never saw him do that again.
7. I was in Miss Mildred Scrivener's 12th grade home room with Elvis. He never had any school supplies. He borrowed paper from someone every day. He looked so different from the other boys who had crew cuts and blue jeans. He wore black pants and his hair always hung down in his face. He was always very polite.
8. During the time he was recording at Sun Studios, Elvis Presley came into the bank quite often with Bob Neal, his first manager. He was always very friendly to me. He came in about a year after he was discharged from the Army. We had been talking for about five minutes when 10 or 15 screaming women came running up. He gave me a hug and left quickly. I never saw him again in person.
9. I was very shy and afraid of boys my own age. But, I remember having crushes on Frank Simonton and George Blancett. Virginia Eddleman's family had beautiful voices and sang gospel music. She took me to hear them once when Elvis was singing on the same program. Soon after that my sister June and I ran into Elvis at the Suzore #1. He sat down beside me and after a while I felt his arm slide across my shoulder. I was so scared that we moved to another row. One night he was singing at the Humes Talent Show. My friend Rose left me to watch the white elephant booth while she went up and checked out the talent. Elvis sang while I was taking care of the booth so I never did hear him sing at Humes. I worked at St. Joseph Hospital after school as a nurse's aide to save money to go to nursing school. Elvis' mother Gladys usually worked on the floor above me. Sometimes we worked together. She was a pretty lady who talked about her son a lot. She wanted me to come to dinner, but it never worked out. She taught me how to care for patients in a kind and gentle way. She was a great role model.

Priest prefers Elvis Presley impersonation: fun is a god

The elements of entertainment are found everywhere, the clergy no exception. But we all knew that. Clouds of incense, singing, crazy costumes: the church knows its theatrics. So the most notable element of the story about "Elvis Priestley," a.k.a. Andy Kelso, leaving the holy ranks to impersonate the King is one word in relation to connecting people with God:

"My whole desire is to build bridges with people and Elvis. I see it as a form of reaching out to people, using the King of Rock to introduce people to Jesus, hopefully in a way that will be fun.”

Fun. If you haven't noticed, if you want to get anything done in the modern world, it needs to be fun. There are two ways to think about this. One is that it's a great step forward for humanity's mental flexibility; some smartsters among us have recognized the power of disguising vegetables as sweets, which I suppose is inevitable given the massive influence of marketing and advertising nowadays. Another take is that we have developed into a society of perpetual children who can't get anything done unless it involves a sparkly phantasmagoria that is bouncy and makes neato noise and stuff. And that we forget the important, underlying message in our distraction with the fun-fun-really-fun thingy things.

But this isn't that complex. Right? This vicar found Elvis's story and music to be an inspiration for spiritual wanderers. People responded enthusiastically when he rose as Elvis Priestley. And I guess if you believe God is telling you to "take Elvis to the church," there isn't much else to do.

Elvis Presley's mysterious $25.75 discount

In 1960, Elvis visited Miami and stopped by Ace Formal Wear. He got $25.75 taken off a $231.75 bill for renting tuxedos. In inflation-adjusted dollars, those savings would come to $187.41 in 2010. That's a whole lot of peanut butter.

I wonder if the shop here is the same Ace that Elvis shopped at years ago. If they are, they need to advertise their moment with the King of Rock n' Roll. Anything a cultural icon touches is imbued with a mysterious value, as if knowing that people larger than life share some of the same mundane experiences of our own somehow makes us more connected to greatness, our potential own and that of others.

If you're curious to learn more about the shop that served Elvis, this article from 1959 gives us cool details. Another one from April 1960 mentions Elvis's patronage of the shop. Here is the dry paragraph:

Elvis Presley and his manager, Col. Parker, purchased tuxedos from Ace Formal Wear when the star was here recently for the filming of the Frank Sinatra television show.

You know, after reading that, I think I figured out what the $25.75 discount was for: the proprietor threw in one free tuxedo rental. Maybe a reward for buying a tux for $150 ($1091.71 in 2010 dollars). Yep. Three percent sales tax on $25 is 75 cents. So there we are. Life lesson? If you buy a tux, make sure you get to rent one for free.

Russell Crowe channels Elvis Presley (and Johnny Cash)

How fitting the king of gladiators should honor the King of Rock n' Roll on stage with Elvis Costello. Costello started cranking out a set-your-truck-on-fire-and-fall-in-love rendition of "Trouble" starting at 5:59 or so, and then Crowe joins him at 7:20 or so, where the video above will begin playing. (They also played Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues.")

It strikes me again and again how cultural icons and artifacts live on and on. Something about this song, and Elvis Presley, still raises people's spirits, enough that they want to invite the world to share what they feel. Then again, I groove on musicians from every era. Bach, Mozart, Louis Armstrong, Miles Davis, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Devo, Tom Waits, Nirvana, Coldplay, Jay-Z and more all make life give me the chills in different ways. What makes something immortal?