Graceland..and stuff

This past weekend, I was told I was going to Memphis, home of Graceland and good BBQ. An unexpected trip is always fun and I'm down to go. The weather was nice as was the time off.

Before going to the hotel, Graceland called. I wish I hadn't answered now that I look back at it. I went once when I was maybe 5 or 6. All I remember about it was his grave* (we all know he's alive) and green shag carpet.

First off, Graceland has become nothing more than the strip at Panama City Beach. You know what I'm talking about. The same damn gift shops that sell the same damn stuff...I don't think Elvis use any guitar-shaped purses or walking canes...though I may be wrong. Each "attraction" exited to yet another gift shop. Need some replica jumpsuits? Go ahead and make your order.

The house itself isn't too large compared to today's homes. You only get to see the main floor and the basement with it's 70s decorations and furniture. I wanted to see the upstairs where he died on the toilet. Instead I saw where he made his peanut butter and nanner sandwhiches in the kitchen.

Since the platinum tour was picked ($40 per person), the automobile exhibit was next. Zipping by people who read every single plaque about each f'n car, the tour was completed in possibly 5 minutes. What's next? GIFT SHOP!!!

Then off to see his collection of clothes (skinny Elvis). Each damn jumpsuit had a plaque that talked about when he wore it and such. If you were lucky, there as a clip playing on the television. Some weirdo women were taking pictures and dancing around (I'm sure I'd do that if it were a NKOTB exhibit...but nonetheless). Exit out...GIFT SHOP!

After clothes was his planes. This is where the tour got sticky. The larger plane, the Lisa Marie, was cramped, causing you to be unable to pass anyone. THIS WAS TORTURE. Somehow I ended up behind some French jackasses who wanted to stare into oblivion for more than mere moments. Look a seat belt in the bed. Great. NEXT! No, we want to stand around and stare at it. Here's the tv...let's stare at that too!! I should have used a term I picked up in France while riding bicycles. Bougez, which means move. I must have been staring into oblivion myself to not remember this.

Finally off the plane and away from those bastards. Next up was Elvis After Dark..which means the clothes he wore at night? Not sure. It was a room full of more clothes I assume he wore out. Exit out...GIFT SHOP!

After passing Harley Davidson Graceland, I was done. A four hour tour took less than 2.

Here's what I would have liked to have seen. Elvis' house NOW. After watching Cribs and seeing other celebrity homes, this was nothing. Get some Trading Spaces people or some Extreme Home Makeover people and fix it up. There's only so much gaudy one can see.

TCB Baby.

PS The BBQ was excellent in Memphis. As was the Brazillian food at Texas de Brazille. All you can eat Brazillian meat??? Heaven.