All roads should lead through Tupelo, Mississippi like ours did on a recent Spring Break trip.
We SHAKE, RATTLED AND ROLLed into that little town, a MESS OF BLUES from TOO MUCH time on the road
“PLEASE RELEASE ME from this car,” a U.S.MALE called from the backseat, where’d he’d been trapped for 500 MILES.
“WE’RE COMING IN LOADED,” I told the clerk as we made our way into our HEARTBREAK HOTEL.”
“WHERE DID YOU COME FROM” she asked and, of course, I replied “DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE.”
“I FEEL SO BAD,” she said and I agreed.
“ITS A LONG LONELY HIGHWAY.”
It took some convincing because my travel buddies have SUSPICIOUS MINDS and our driver just wanted to RELAX but, eventually I talked them all into visiting Elvis Presley Park.
The King was born in Tupelo and lived there until he was 13-years old.
“I JUST CAN’T HELP BELIEVING you guys are going to love getting to know Elvis,” I said.
“I SHALL NOT BE MOVED “ said the little guy, who just wanted to swim.
“HEY HEY HEY,” I said. “DONCHA THINK ITS TIME to look around this town.”
“ALRIGHT OK YOU WIN,” they said and we headed off.
The park featured Elvis’ house, the church that launched his singing career, a replica of the car that took him to Memphis and even an outhouse.
The property included a reflecting pond at which we were invited to imagine a young and very poor Elvis strumming the guitar his MAMA bought him at the local hardware store, and dreaming about becoming a famous singer.
BY AND BY we all agreed that the Elvis Presley Park was cool because you just CAN’T HELP FALLING IN LOVE with a young boy who experienced plenty of HARD LUCK, dreamed big, became a GUITAR MAN and kept his word when he said, I’LL BE HOME AGAIN.”
