At the Dizzying High End of the Spectrum
Moody Blue to Purple Rain
All things in moderation, Clay . . . including moderation.
Unfortunately , The King was far too self-indulgent — and that’s coming from one rather self indulgent squid🐙.
I don’t really like peanut butter, so I have never tried Elvis’ favorite sammich — I like my banana sandwich on soft, nutrition-free Bunny white bread with Duke’s or Hellman’s mayo.
I could not tell from the video if Mrs. Mary was using butter or margarine — I believe the latter to be an awful, toxic substitute for food. You’ll remember Jane Fonda’s workout video, leg warmers, and the salad bar craze were still a few years away. I wonder if Elvis might have fared better with the hindsight we have about nutrition, addiction, exercise, etc. (Elvis did like to exercise; you’ll probably remember that he was crazy about karate. He also liked to play racquetball regularly — up until his death.)
In the final analysis, however, Elvis died of the same root cause as Prince — too many folks saying “yes” instead of “no”. We need good friends who will call us out on our bullshit and tell us when we’re about to drive ourselves off a cliff. It takes an extreme soul to create like these men did — constantly pushing physical, emotional, and mental boundaries. That thin line between genius and madness. Without the crazy, we like would not have the accompanying art.
In the case of these two, my sadness is doubled— each was a truly talented, sensitive, caring, and generous person who touched the lives of many. I remember the day Elvis died. I was but a wee fag-ling of seven seated on the carpet, watching the King’s white hearse turning into Graceland, there on the screen of my granny’s great big floor model TV. Mama played his Moody Blue record over and over again — the one stamped out of blue vinyl.
It was an event rather like I imagine things will be when Queen Elizabeth II goes on to her reward.
I took Prince’s death far more personally than The King’s. Prince was my soundtrack, not my mom’s.
Here are a couple of great tunes for your morning. I just love an LP on a turntable:
PS. As a side note, I see that Kim Kardashian is pregnant with a fourth child. Given the genetic-loading associated with some mental illness and the intensifying effects of fame and fortune, I wonder what sort of lives the children of this family will live.
