I grew up in the midst of a lot of anti-Elvis sentiment. At times I was vocal about being repulsed by his lifestyle. (On at least one occasion I said so on the the air; I was a radio disk jockey.) That's how I was supposed to be. Inside, though, I envied part of Elvis' life. I would/could never tell anyone that, but there was a lot to envy. Even so, there was a lot to be repulsed about.
If I ever heard an Elvis song that I really didn't like, I don't recall it. But...I wasn't a fan. I didn't "listen" to his music, the same way I didn't listen to the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and the Jackson Five. Which is to say, I did listen to all of them -- and enjoyed every minute of it -- but I couldn't let my parents (or a lot of friends) know about it.
I cut my teeth on country music. If the radio was on, that's usually what I heard. We had lots of records: 78s, 45s, and 33 1/3 LPs. Most were country. Some were easy listening and mood music. A lot of the earlier stuff was big band. (I loved Jimmy Durante's music long before I started school.) One of my favorite LPs was The Hits of the 1930s.
I vividly remember a dance hall Mom and Dad took us to. A live band played and couples danced. At least once, I was out on the floor in a line of kids doing the "bunny hop". This was before I started kindergarten. When I got older, Mom and Dad took us with them when they square danced.
Our family watched Midwestern Hayride every Saturday night. After Ricky Nelson performed one of his songs at the end of an episode of Ozzie and Harriet, Dad announced that Ricky would be way bigger than Elvis', because Ricky was a nice kid from a nice family, and Elvis was just an arrogant rebel.
If you ever want to be a geek -- I mean a dyed-in-the-wool, way-out-in-left-field oddball who never fits in with his peers -- go back to 1968 as a 13-year-old and tell your classmates (and everybody else) that rock and roll is evil; that you listen to country music.
For weeks after Elvis died, the media bombarded us with every tiny facet of Elvis minutiae that they could possibly turn into any kind of marketable "story". I didn't like the endless saturation. (Still don't.) But, I listened to some of it. And, before long, I started to like Elvis. And his music. After he was dead. I started to feel sorry for him for creating his repulsive lifestyle. (Was I manipulated by the media? Or, did I finally let myself "listen"?) I was on the air (WAPR, Avon Park, Florida) when Paul Harvey (on his News, Views, and Comments) admitted that he had been wrong in underestimating Elvis' greatness.
Today, I view Elvis as one of the history's finest singers (and performers). I liked his music when I wasn't supposed to; I'm blown away by his voice today.
One week ago, Brian Williams (NBC Nightly News) had just started telling us that Farrah Fawcett had died, when he was interrupted with news about Michael Jackson. With apologies to MJ fans, my first thought was, "Wow. Bad news scooped by not-so-bad news."
Within the next 24 hours I read somebody's Facebook lament that 'now we have to endure two weeks of nothing but Michael Jackson on the airwaves.' I thought, "No way. Michael Jackson is big -- and he used to be really big -- but he's not that big...not today."
OH...MY...GAWD! Am I that old? Or, just that out of touch with reality?
Ever since MJ left the human race (in my estimation, that happened around 1982), I've felt sorry for him. Sorry for the weird choices that he has made; sorry that he entered a universe where (I felt) he totally lost touch with reality. But, most of all, I have been disgusted by him.
He's been dead a week now, and...guess what? For the first time ever, I'm starting to view Michael Jackson the same way I've viewed Elvis for the past thirty-some years. (During which time, Elvis has been drug-free!)
I'm still repulsed by much of Michael's weirdness. But then, (my apologies in advance to those of you who do not already know this) MJ's external, public weirdness is no worse than the weirdness that has been going on inside me -- hidden under a veneer or 'normalcy' -- all my life.I hope to never find myself defending unacceptable behavior engaged in by Michael Jackson, by Elvis, or by my own self. But, I'm starting -- again -- to understand.
"But he has nothing on!"
Good story. I think we are all a little more weird inside than we like to admit. MJ turned my stomach in recent years. Maybe he was just comfortable doing things that most people don't have the nerve or the ability to do? Hope I never find out ;-)But then ... maybe I already have ......
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