{"id":47194,"date":"2012-01-13T09:27:17","date_gmt":"2012-01-13T14:27:17","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=47194"},"modified":"2012-01-13T09:31:56","modified_gmt":"2012-01-13T14:31:56","slug":"while-graceland-sleeps","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=47194","title":{"rendered":"While Graceland Sleeps …"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\nOn our second day in Memphis, we woke up at 6 a.m. We had to be at Graceland for the 8 a.m. gospel concert. We both had to take showers. It was going to be a long day and we wouldn’t be coming back to the hotel. After the gospel concert, we were slated to meet up with my blog-friend (and, hell, real-life friend, although this was the first time we met for real – amazing) Lisa, at Sun Studios at around 12:30. She was driving in from Little Rock. We would do the Sun tour, and then go grab something to eat, and basically hang out in Memphis with Lisa. I couldn’t wait. Lisa and I have “known” each other for years through our various blogs and social networking and all that. I think it was around 2004 when she found my blog by Googling “St. Elmo’s Fire fans” – I mean, come on. The woman is a kindred spirit. We have talked about everything under the sun on my site, on hers, on Facebook, and on Twitter, where she rules the roost. Politics, movies, celebrities, our lives, our families. Facebook gives a greater intimacy than the blog does. I don’t post much personal stuff here (as I’ve said: it seems like I do, but it’s really just trompe l’oeil by design), but on FB it’s mostly personal. So I have gotten to know Lisa’s family through her pictures, I’m “friends” with her teenage son on Facebook (she has two teenage sons), and it was really quite an event that we were FINALLY going to meet in person!!<\/p>\n

But first? We needed to get to Graceland for some gospel. It was dark when we woke up and the sun still hadn’t come up by the time we reached Graceland, although the sky was starting to get light. Our drive into Memphis was so gorgeous. The flat land on the Arkansas side of the Mississippi brown and rich and still in shadows. The Mississippi still and dark beneath the bridge. It was a wet overcast morning, quiet and still. When we got to Graceland, it was 7:30 in the morning and mine was the only car in the parking lot. We howled with laughter looking at it. NERDS. <\/p>\n

\n\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\nHowever, at the ticket pavilion near the parking lot, the line had already formed. It was chilly enough that everyone was bundled up (the day before had been damn near hot), and everyone was drinking coffee and still a bit sleepy. A sound check was running a bit overtime, so we had a bit of waiting to do. <\/p>\n

I wandered off through the parking lot to look at the back of the planes, just sitting there in the dark morning, empty, no tours going on yet. They looked so impressive, the Lisa Marie especially. I loved being there before it was even officially open. It seems to me that that is really the way to see it, because it seems most like normal life. (Well. If “normal” means a giant private jet in your yard. But. That WAS “normal” to Elvis. He wasn’t a tourist in his own life. This was his life. So there you go.) <\/p>\n

\n\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\n\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\nThere is a high gate around the plane area, but of course the huge tail is visible with the famous TCB logo and the lightning bolt. <\/p>\n

\n\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

It was finally time to go in. The concert took place in the ticket pavilion across the street from Graceland. It feels like a hotel lobby, dark carpeting and lots of space, and a bunch of chairs were set up in one area, and there were microphones, and a sound board at the back. The concert was so beautiful<\/a>. I cried off my makeup sitting in the front row. Beautiful emotional way to wake up. I was so honored to be there, to be a part of it. Jen and I had a great time.<\/p>\n

When the concert finished up, it was only 9:15, 9:30. Graceland was still not awake. It was the day before Elvis’ birthday. But the crowd in that ticket pavilion was still only us gospel concert people. Many of them were staying on to take the tours, but Jen and I were driving back into Memphis. We were hungry, aching for breakfast by that point, and we had a bunch of time before we had to meet Lisa at Sun. Before we went off in search for food, we walked out onto the front lawn of the ticket area, directly opposite Graceland, and hung out for a while, wandering around. <\/p>\n

\n\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\nWe crossed the street to Graceland. <\/p>\n

\n\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\nThe musical-gates were wide open. There was a stop sign in the drive right there, but nobody was in sight. There was no one in the gatehouse (where Vester used to sit!), and nobody walking around on the yard. It might as well have been a private home. Nothing would have stopped us (at least initially) from starting up the drive towards the house. It was wide open. I was amazed by that. It was beautiful, actually. <\/p>\n

We perused the wall and the brick gatehouse, all of which were covered with graffiti. <\/p>\n

\n\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\n\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\nGraffiti from every corner of the world. <\/p>\n

I stood by the wall and stared up at Graceland. Nobody else was out there with us. There weren’t any other fans. It was too early in the morning, I suppose. But that was one of the special things about our early morning trip to Graceland. You really got the sense that you were looking at someone’s home<\/i>. Not a museum, or a national monument. It seemed wholly and utterly private.<\/p>\n

\n\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Yes, grandiose, with a huge message from Elvis hung between the trees (MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL. ELVIS. – a sign he hung up every Christmastime the entire time he lived there). And a life-size nativity in the front yard with life-size camels and kings and all that. <\/p>\n

\n\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

But still. Even with the splendour, it was clearly a home. And with no fans out there, no one monitoring the gatehouse, no vans shuttling across the street, nobody else out there … you really felt like that was still a living house, with occupants, and maybe you’d get a glimpse of Elvis coming down the drive on his motorcycle. A place stopped in time. And yet casually of our time as well. <\/p>\n

It was almost eerie. <\/p>\n

I am not sure what I was expecting. I was expecting a mob scene, frankly. I was expecting throngs of people everywhere, at all times. Perhaps his death anniversary is more of a draw (this is what we heard anyway from every Memphian we spoke to). But every time we went to Graceland, even on his birthday, which was (naturally) more crowded – it was still a kind of quiet place, watchful, waiting, still. I didn’t have to jostle my way to the front to get a good view, I never had to hold my camera up over my head to get the shot I wanted. It was calm, orderly, peaceful.<\/p>\n

And on that early Saturday morning, it was deserted.<\/p>\n

The gates flung wide open. <\/p>\n

Nobody in sight.<\/p>\n

\n\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

On our second day in Memphis, we woke up at 6 a.m. We had to be at Graceland for the 8 a.m. gospel concert. We both had to take showers. It was going to be a long day and we … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3],"tags":[2095,2112],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/47194"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=47194"}],"version-history":[{"count":49,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/47194\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":47256,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/47194\/revisions\/47256"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=47194"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=47194"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=47194"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}