COLUMN: Long live the King!

From Alan Lowinger's, "The Rest of the Story," Fall '00 From Alan Lowinger's, "The Rest of the Story," Fall '00Elvis lives! Well, not really. Whatever remains of the King lies six feet under, his body having been the stuff of worm food for over 23 years. Elvis is definitely dead. Elvis, Elvis, Elvis. I can't quite put my finger on what brought a city boy like me to drive to Memphis. I am not a big fan of Elvis, no less the blues or country music. In reality, a friend and I had decided to just drive. We had a few days to kill before the start of the NCAA Tournament. Somewhere out in the Midwest, Let's Go USA in hand, we decided to give Memphis a shot. The transformation from Northeast to Midwest to mid-South was subtle, yet noticeable. The Wal-Marts came to dot the landscape like the stars in the sky. Contemporary rock and rap radio stations gave way to country tunes and Christian sermons. I found myself drinking a variety of "pop," including such greats as Mr. Pibb and Mello Yello. It was like I was stuck in a hyperbolic stereotype of Simpsons-esque qualities. And then there was Memphis, a place not of this earth. It is a conglomeration of everything you'd expect and nothing you've ever imagined. People do speak with the "Suth-un twang." Churches line the streets and God advertises on billboards. And sure, there was plenty of Mello Yello to go around. That was just about all for what you'd expect of the city. It seems that perhaps Jesus is worshipee No. 2 in this quaint city. The life and legend of Elvis hold an eerie stranglehold on the city. His days of birth and death are celebrated with such pomp and circumstance that you would think that he achieved world peace or fed the masses with a few loaves. In fact, my friend and I actually drove around looking for a Church of Elvis. Even I could not help getting sucked in. I felt an odd sense of importance touching the actual microphone that Elvis used in the actual studio where he was discovered. I longed to hear locals recite fantastic legends of Elvis. And whether or not the stories are true, Elvis has definitely left an indelible impression on the people. Hanging out on Beale Street and listening to the sounds of Memphis, I could not help but note the spirit of Elvis in the people. He was one of the finest from the city that created rock 'n' roll. He integrated sounds of "black and white folk" and lived his life so as to cross racial barriers that are still transcended in Memphis today. I hardly saw any segregation among the locals, especially compared to other area cities. The National Civil Rights Museum stands in memory of Dr. Martin Luther King. In neatly stenciled letters, a bar's exterior loudly proclaimed "No Discrimination." In Memphis, the savior is Elvis and the religion is music. The movement of the integration of sounds rocked the nation, brought together people of all colors and played a small role in the civil rights movement. I revere the man no more than your average New Yorker. The respect I do hold for him, though, lies in his legend. I talk not of his flashy one-piece suits, box-office hits or scores of gold records. I left that person in Memphis. The legend that does affect me is the one of the young unknown who frequented predominantly black gospel churches and jazz clubs for the love of the music. His music would draw on those varied influences and help shape a generation. And for that, Elvis, I salute you.