Wednesday, November 3, 2010

velvet lip curls & leather hip swings

I don't' know many 23 years old that would sign up for a week long road trip with their parents, but I also don't know many parents who consist of a beautiful duo of artistic insanity and overall skepticism with a mustache and a fiery redhead ready to work her always present inner-entrepreneur and show dance floors whose boss.
We set off Friday afternoon, a bit of a slow start after I had to get some work appropriate shoes.(Shoes never being my strongest point). And faja had a donut craving, closer to that of a pregnant woman than anything your average 70 year old man has.
But anyways, the drive was going pretty smooth outside of the bumper to bumper traffic we reached in Chicago in the boomboom of rush hour. This caused mama J to go a lil kray, but I reminded her its all about the journey and focused on extending an aura of tranquility. Before long we were channeling The Partridge Family and singing songs far too embarrassing for me to mention here.
Just as I thought we couldn't get any cornier (but loving it all the same), Faja warned us that he brought along his 38 special in case anyone fucks with us. Thanks for keeping it real real Dad.

We arrived in Memphis at 11:11 (make a wish) and the first person I saw upon entering the south was missing his front tooth. Thank you universe for making the world so perfectly comical.

The next morning we stopped at a Waffle House, none of us ordering waffles, but feeling semi-authentically southern none the less, before heading to Graceland.
I was expecting Graceland to be quite the trip and almost wishing the three of us had some LSD to make it all the more colorful, but it fell somewhat of short of my expectations--at least in the realm of crazy Elvis fanatics.
Growing up, Elvis has always had a decently large presence in the Huebner family. Faja grew up with the King and even received fake sideburns from his sister because he couldn't grow his own. Was he pre-pubescent at the time? Nope, mid-30s.
The love for Elvis was passed through my dad to my brother Adam who has the TCB lightning bolt tattoo ("Taking Care of Business" to any newbs out there)and wore a baby blue tuxedo to his wedding held at a cabin chosen because "Elvis would like it".
If this is my family, there must be some REAL Elvis freaks out there then, I thought. Unfortunately, one woman dressed in a full gold lame' suit was the only fix I got of the crazies, but it was enough to satisfy.

Mr. Presley knew what was up in his decorating abilities. His house was pretty baller, although I think he probably spent more on his two airplanes. It was super 70's- green shag carpeting on the floor AND ceiling kind of 70s. I was in heaven.

Although I might have gotten an over-dose of Elvis in my early youth, there's absolutely something to be said about the level of originality, authenticity and spirit this man who came to be known as The King possessed.
Clearly, an alien-life form brought to us Earthly beings; providing us with new levels of rock n' roll, sassy hips and velvet everythings.

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