A song from the year you were born. The King dominated 1957. I bet some of his tones made their way to me in utero, accounting for my affinity for him. Also, this is just a magical movie moment. I think the tragedy of Elvis was how great he could be with the right material, and how seldom he was given the opportunity to rise to occasion. I believe he died as much of ennui as drugs. (Play along! Click here for prompts.)
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
I am such an Elvis fan.
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