Every Saturday morning as a child I watched Elvis movies. My Mom loved Elvis. She played his music often. My mom didn’t hold anything back from us. She told me that my sister and I were conceived to an Elvis song. I’ll spare you the rest of story like I wish she had spared me! That’s how she was. Honest about everything and usually laughing.
I know the words to almost all of Elvis’s songs but I have a hard time listening to them since my mom passed away. It will be 10 years in February. It’s the one date I don’t forget. I can’t remember my sober date or when I was diagnosed Bipolar and everything else but I remember the day she died.
I wish I could’ve told her about the time W and I met an Elvis impersonator at the Casino. He was so handsome, better looking than the original Elvis. We were there to see Motley Crue but somehow ended up at the Clamshack drinking beer, eating fries and clam chowder.
When I spotted him I thought he was Nikki Sixx for a second. He had jet black hair and the bluest eyes. His manager was with him. He sat down next to us and ordered chowder. We didn’t oyster crackers but he did and they were gigantic for some reason. Of course me being drunk I commented on his overly large crackers and he laughed. We spent the next 5 hours hanging out with Elvis.
Turns out he had just come from the dressing rooms and had met Nikki Sixx, he was also a fan. We had already seen them in concert several times so we didn’t mind missing out to hear Elvis’s stories.
My mom would’ve loved it. She would’ve hated that I was drunk but I would’ve left that part out. It was a rare night where W and I just laughed and had fun. No one got hurt, no one cried, no one was arrested. When I say “No one” I mean me.
I miss my mom and I miss the times with W that were fun. But I guess we were supposed to grow up. One of us did. The other never had the tools to do so. She still doesn’t.