Garden flags are here, there and everywhere. No matter the neighborhood locale, garden flags seem to be more popular every year and nearly each home has one displayed in the front yard. What probably began as inexpensive yard art a few years ago has grown to be an opportunity to showcase a theme garden, celebrate a holiday or just say “Welcome”. Most of the garden flags are small but some are the size of a regular flag. I’m a person who is prone to reading bumper stickers, tee-shirt sayings and trying to connect the dots on sometimes obscure personalized license plates. I always try to read the sentiment on garden flags too. One flag I regularly pass features a glass of wine that says “Wine a bit – you’ll feel better” … now that tickles me. But, what really overwhelms me each time I see it is a large flag featuring a life-sized head and shoulders image of a youthful Elvis Presley along with the phrase proclaiming “Long Live The King”.

So, I thought it was only fitting that I should walk down this street today to see if any additional tributes to Elvis were apparent on this, the 36th anniversary of his August 16, 1977 death.

In my teenaged days, I loved Elvis, as did countless other women and young girls. I liked studying old magazine pics of the shy young Elvis who crooned “That’s All Right Mama” on Sun records, but I positively swooned over the man with the swagger, the curled lip, the perfectly coiffed hair and who oozed sex appeal. The fact that he could look like that plus belt out heart-wrenching tunes made me, the impressionable teenager, melt down to my toes. I spent alot of time at Kresge’s record department when I was a teen. I’d run down to get the WKNR Keener 13 Weekly Music Guide, maybe replenish my supply of yellow plastic 45 inserts to use on my phonograph or perhaps add a new record to my wish list. I would part with some of my allowance to buy Elvis 45s like “Suspicious Minds”, “In the Ghetto” and “Don’t Cry Daddy” … I spun those three records repeatedly on my portable record player and I wonder now how the grooves were still embedded in the vinyl. I memorized the lyrics and mouthed them along with Elvis while sitting cross-legged on my bed in my pajamas with pink curlers in my hair, or while dancing around the bedroom after slicking on pink bubblegum lip gloss in an effort to look as grown-up as possible. I often carried my mom’s old Hitachi transistor radio with me and would clap it to my ear whenever an Elvis song came on. I’d crank up the volume and the serpentine earpiece would vibrate and blast my one eardrum. I was not allowed to put posters or magazine pictures on my bedroom wall so I had to be content with thumbing through well-worn issues of “Tiger Beat” or “16” which were magazines that featured Elvis and other heartthrobs regularly.

For my 20th birthday, my parents took me to the Golden Nugget lounge where Wade Cummins, a/k/a “Elvis Wade”, was performing. Elvis Wade’s act was billed as the ultimate tribute to The King and the only Elvis tribute performance for which Elvis Presley gave a standing ovation. It was a wonderful evening – the lights and music mesmerized you into believing you were at a real Elvis concert. Elvis Wade looked and sounded like his namesake. His coal black hair was slicked into a perfect pompadour and he wore wide mutton chops. He donned a garish white jumpsuit and chunky jewelry, particularly Elvis’ trademark “TCB” ring and medallion. He gyrated on stage and occasionally stepped down into the audience to get up close and personal with the ladies, both old and young. We had a table close to the stage. Someone alerted him it was my birthday and he came over and pecked me on the cheek. I turned twenty shades of red and then he blew me a kiss and stepped away. Once he returned to the stage, he looked me right in the eyes while crooning “Teddy Bear” then threw me a sweat-soaked scarf. I caught it and clutched it to my bosom just like he was the “real deal” – for years I had that silly scarf and I think it is packed away with my scrapbooks and similar mementos. Yup, Elvis Wade perfected the moves, the charm and the charisma of “EP”; when he brought each recognizable song in Elvis’ huge repertoire to life, it was so very easy to get caught up in the moment.

Writing about Elvis Wade has prompted me to jump on YouTube to look for any videos of him performing and there were several. He also has a large website. Cummins has aged and is heavier (well … haven’t we all?) and he now resembles the later pictures we glimpsed of Elvis on the front page of all the tabloids in the months before his untimely death. Feeling further nostalgic, I then noodled around YouTube and found some of my favorite Elvis Presley tunes from concert videos. I watched them twice – once just to immerse myself in the whole Elvis experience and to sing along, miraculously remembering every lyric. Then, I watched the videos again merely to compare the pair – well, with a fresh eye, there is simply no comparison. There is only one inimitable King. Those concerts in the late 60s showed an Elvis so full of life, sweat pouring down his face making that perfectly coiffed pompadour droop just a little. Elvis’ pure sexuality – the swiveling hips, his deep-cut shirts exhibiting his bare chest and jewelry and his form-fitting jumpsuits matched that smooth-as-silk voice. I watched the females in the audiences in the various videos. They were alternately screaming or crying very hard if he even glanced their way with that curled lip and bedroom eyes. Mere mortal males could not even hope to come close to possessing the mystique and magic that Elvis exuded. Yup, Elvis was at the top of his game and then he slowly toppled off that pedestal and slid into an abyss and kept sinking deeper and deeper.

I was working at the diner as usual while on Summer hiatus from college when Elvis died suddenly. Everyone who worked at the restaurant but me was from the South as was most of the clientele. From the day he died until his funeral the talk revolved around Elvis. Dimes were popped into the diner jukebox to create a non-stop marathon of Elvis hits . Our manager made a special exception and allowed a tabletop radio to be placed in the center of the diner so everyone could listen to Elvis’ funeral service. Tears were shed. Tongues tsked-tsked about the fate of this rags-to-riches Southern boy … one of their own. People unfortunately had forgotten the good stories of this down-home country lad and now only spoke of a legacy filled with drugs, erratic behavior and desolation.

Elvis has not only left the building but departed this earth … The “Kang” will live on through his music for eternity. Thank you for making this young girl’s heart go pitter-patter all those decades ago … I enjoyed today’s trip down memory lane.