Graceland in the Ghetto

Elvis had quite the swinging pad. Green shag rug on the ceilings. The crazy jungle room with its trippy Hawaiian wood furniture. The psychotically patterned pool room. The odd tv room complete with a Golem like statue and a fabulous bar. Walls and walls and walls of gold records. I would of like to have been there for his crazy golf cart races in the back yard. Over 600,000 people a year visit the place at anywhere from $22 to $50 a pop that's a cool two or three million a year, not including merchandizing. But as touristy as it is, it still has some kind of charm and you can't help but feeling something as you stand directly in front of his grave. The sad truth about modern Memphis is that once you peel away the famous white history you see a very urban black ghetto. But all the tacky tourist t-shirt shops and a Hard Rock Cafe have still not killed the soul of this city. Everywhere and at all hours there is music being played and most of it live. Before nine am they were playing Elvis by the guitar shaped swimming pool at my Days Inn hotel in Graceland.