The King Died much too soon. At age forty two you had so much to give us. At the age of twelve you were my inspiration to grow sideburns, a lot of Vaseline to slick down my hair, and a reason to tighten to the belt around my pants, I think a million of us guys all wanted to be an Elvis, and you stuck with our patriotic duty and served two years in the Army. It was a good thing, my sideburns were getting to begin to itch, and I could hardly breathe with my belt needing to give in three notches. I so much wanted to be like Elvis, he had a twin brother like me that died at birth. When I sang your songs I felt I was like the King, he  had no pimples on his face like me, he had dimples, all I could sing, I have pimples and Elvis haves dimples, pretty catchy? He had money, I could only hope I could score on my upcoming Bar Mitzvah,nope the five hundred dollars I thought I had went to pay our household pills. Hopefully I could save enough money for a tube of Clearasil! Yet he made me feel good to be alive,

I went on with my life in photography, watch many of his movies, and surrendered much of my paychecks to The Columbia Record Club for his vinyl and later for his audio cassettes. The day he died, on August 16, 1977, like many I was “All Shook Up.”

I am just a seventy year old man, wishing he could spend tonight with a Grand Pa, The King of Rock N’ Roll.

Happy Birthday Elvis, and Thank You for all the music and movies I was able to listen and watch.