ain't that lovin' you, baby

i'd been watching tv in our basement family room when the news about elvis' death interrupted everything. i wasn't really aware of his music--if we were anything, we were a sinatra household--but i was struck by the grave voice and cadence of the news reporter, elvis. aaron. presley....dead, at 42, and the hysteria of his fans-- the sobbing, wailing, fainting masses. i went upstairs to tell my mom, who i caught balancing on the arm of the couch, watering her plants. the news stopped her; we watched more of the reports together. she was shocked, not in any outsized way. mostly she couldn't believe how young he was. i couldn't quite shake that someone could die so dramatically--heart attack on the toilet seemed awfully humiliating to me, even as an eight-year old. it was worse than mama cass (peanut butter sandwich, in bed was the rumor i'd heard).

but my elvis education started on that day. radio stations seemed to play his music all the time after that (our family cars didn't have 8tracks or cassette players then). i thought "hound dog" was downright silly, but i dreamed that someone, some day would confess he "can't help falling in love" with me (via casey kasem and a long distance dedication).

starting in the 7th or 8th grade (after we finally got cable!), i could count on "elvis week," at least once or twice a year, around his birthday or death anniversary. a full week of silliness and sugar in glorious technicolor and stereophonic sound... i vowed that when i was a millionairess, i'd have reproduced joan blackman/maile duval's wardrobe from blue hawaii. and i'd learn to dance like ann-margret. (one out of two isn't bad.)

but this year, and today, cable channels have a lot of other content to promote. so no girls!girls!girls! no fun with ursula andress in acapulco. since i don't listen to the radio, i will be the mistress of my own elvis programming. 50s masters, disc 5 it will be, along with these clips (hope you enjoy them, too)