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Juke Box Split #6


woodworker

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24 minutes ago, woodworker said:

I never liked his music all that much, except for a few songs but always liked him for being a true American and a true patriot, unlike so many in the entertainment business.    There's kind of a funny story concerning Elvis and me that took place in the mid fifties.  I was five years old at the time, when he came to Detroit to play at Tiger stadium.    I kind of knew who he was, as I use to like to sing to myself one of his songs, "Are You Lonesome Tonight."   

Anyway, I went with my mother to go see him.   And after the gig, they dressed Elvis up to look like one of the door attendants.   But the gobs of women there were on to this quick!   Well, my mother who was too far away from him, and knowing that she would never be able to get past that mob, gave me a little piece of paper and told me to go and get his autograph.   I was in a sea of female legs, as I bobbed and weaved my way to him.   I guess because I was so little, he looked down and smiled at me, as I then, without saying a word stuck my arm up with that little piece of paper, and he took it from my hand and signed it.   It got me a big hug from my mom, and so to me I suppose it was worth it.    He truly was a nice man.  

PS.  I suppose, if he didn't sign it, I would have kicked him in the shins.  

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My mother was an Elvis fan. Big time. I inherited lots of vinyl, and then tons of Elvis CDs.

Somewhere along the line, being a bit rebellious, I got involved listening to Jerry Lee Lewis and Chuck Berry instead -- only to realize they all shared the same love of the same music, and often sang each other's songs. I have never heard of any instance of the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, or Led Zeppelin not respecting and being inspired by the work of this earlier generation.

A simple search of Jail House Rock, Johnny B Good, etc., shows how much these songs were treated endlessly by a plethora of musicians. I try to collect them all. (Yes, I like ELO's version, too.)

 

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13 minutes ago, StnCld316 said:

That Autograph would be worth Thousands by now if you still have it.

I love my mother dearly.   But along with quite a few gold coins, and hundreds of old Indian pennies, and many, many old 1800's silver dollars, the Elvis autograph is missing too.   

When I was in my teens I use to look at the dates on some of those old silver dollars and imagined them being tossed up on the bar counter.    Who knows, maybe it was for a procurement of one of those soiled doves I've heard about back then.   

"Bar tender give me a whisky, and a gold headed whore, if you don't mind."   

 

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                                                                                               A CAUTIONARY TALE

                                                                             WEST OF THE PECOS

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

Imagine wearing the dust, and the stench, after eight days in the saddle and finally stumbling onto Roy Beans water hole.   What kind of foul luck or predicament is that!    There you are just needing a bath and a drink and standing there now staring at that insidious picture of Lilly Crabtree, or whatever the fuck her name was, hanging there cock-eyed on the wall just behind the bar.    A picture that has no doubt been knock off it's axis by a wad of the old man's cum, while he star gazed at her voluptuous lines periodically.

Then comes the question.

Bean:   "I see you bin staring pretty hard at dat picture."   "So what do you think of her?"

Now you better think quick.   You know he wouldn't be asking if he didn't have some sort of personal attachment to it, aside from that blurry splotch left there on the bottom left corner.

So what do you say?       Something like:    "She's alright I guess, but I've had better back in Cheyenne."   That kind of response, along with maybe calling Bean's mother a whore could get you a burial plot behind the adjoining shed outback.  

Life was tough in those days with unbridle psychopaths at every turn, and you had to be quick both in mind and in hand, or else your just another short conversation from the local lurkers there.

"Hey, remember when dat guy had the temerity to say dat he had better than our own precious Lilly Crabtree?"

"Yeah, we shore did fill him up with holes."    "And I waz the one that had to drag his stinking body all the way out to the back and burry him proper, wit no thanks to anyone else around here."   "But at least he did leave me a pretty nice horse though."

 

 

 

     

 

 

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I thought I'd drop another quarter in the old juke box.   It used to be just a dime, then quickly went to two bits, and now in todays money would probably be around six dollars or so, with a convenient slot to slip your fucking credit card in.      

Anyway, this one goes out to a great guy around here.  StdCld      A Stone Cold killer if ever there waz one.

 

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