June 8-9th: J.D. and I took a quick weekend trip to Memphis. We ate fried green tomatoes on Beale Street. We bought a postcard with Elvis's recipe for peanut butter and banana sandwiches at Graceland. We rode in a horse-drawn carriage pulled by a beautiful horse named Cosmo. J.D. had grits for breakfast Saturday morning. I insisted we go see the Peabody ducks at 11:00 as they walked down their little red carpet. Children kept trying to poke the ducks, poor things. Cliff, an artist on Beale Street, drew a portrait of J.D. and I together for $60. J.D. doesn't have any wrinkles in the picture, and my hair makes me look like a fluffy lion. J.D. likes it though, and he went to have it framed today. A chubby little boy, about 7 years old at Graceland was wearing a skin-tight, spandex Elvis outfit; we thought his parents must be evil.
Overall, Graceland is tacky. I'm struck by the disparity now, between the Paul Simon song, describing it as a type of spiritual destination where "we all will be received" and the line of sweaty tourists having their picture taken in front of the fake mural of the front gate. Certainly, everyone is "received" who can pay the $50 to see Elvis's blue leisure suit, the fuzzy bed, and ceramic tiger. But I'm not sure the entrance fee and separate costs for different "exhibits" is really for "Poorboys." As for Pilgrims, that might be true, certainly there were people who traveled a great distance to see this Mecca of music. "Pilgrims" included the three individuals, two men and a woman from New Orleans, dressed in full Elvis costumes and 60's garb, who just "came up to see Graceland." I found it entertaining that Japanese tourists snapped pictures of them when they were not looking. Actually, the way people treat Graceland today reminds me of how they used to treat the "Holy Land." It reminded me of Clarel, when Melville describes the actual look and impression of the Holy Sepulchre and all the people that visit it. He describes the dust on the tomb, the artificial enclosures and edifices, the exotic clothing, the desire of merchants to make money off pilgrims. Is Elvis and Graceland the new Jesus and Jerusalem? (Swanky).
"Graceland" the name suggests a redemption of one's very soul. The reality is shag carpet on the walls and ceiling. It's a monument to the 1970s. I guess if one can be saved here, one could be saved anywhere. I hold out the potential for it to mean a great deal more to other people. However, I understand now why Paul Simon's song is about "going to" Graceland and not "going through" Graceland. How could he possibly sing about ghosts and lost love, along with stained-glass peacocks and three t.v. sets in a blue and yellow lounge?
The journey and the idea are far more poetic than the destination.
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