Elvis

How's it going baby? My name is Elvis Aaron Presley. I'm still rockin' baby, and I know that y'all been taking care of business while I was "gone". I had to get away for a while. In 1977 my life was spinning out of control, and I had to get out of the public eye and come to terms with some things that had gone unaddressed for far too long. When my Mother, my beloved "Satnin" died in 1958 Everybody could see I was never quite the same again. My life was filled with great accomplishments, but also huge personal dissapointments. I lost the only other woman in life,other than my Mother, who truly understood me and loved me. When "Cilla" left It just started a downward spiral of self destructive behavior. Add onto that the fact that the man who was supposed to be in charge of taking care of me, Col. Tom Parker, crushed my creative spirit and will to live. I had dreams of being a serious actor, but the Colonel rejected every good goddamned script that came along. He forced me to spend the 1960's making one crappy movie after another. For a creative person like me that just sucked the joy of living out of my soul. Then in the 1970's when I got to do what I truly loved and perform live again, the Colonel sucked all the joy out of that too.He kept me on a never ending,ruthless touring schedule. He had me playing Vegas over and over again to pay off his gambling debts. When I asked to do a World Tour to bring the spark back into things and shake things up a little, the Colonel flat out refused. The Colonel was an illegal alien whose real name was Cornelius Andreas Von Kujick. He was afraid if we did a world tour he would never get back in the country. SO he kept me on the same rigoris touring schedule, two shows a night. I had to take a pill to settle down and sleep, then I had to take a pill to wake up for my next show. Everyone could see I was getting hooked and it was killing me. But as long as the money was there the Colonel kept right on pushing me. The last straw came in 1977 when Three of my trusted friends and bodyguards wrote a mudslinging book about me. They revealed all of the most dirty and intimate secrets of my life. And they also lied and blew things out of whack with reality quite a bit to sell more books. Even my own Step brother is making money off of me after my "death". So many greedy, bloodsucking vultures circling over me, I just couldn't see their true colors in time. One of the only people I really trusted was my good friend Larry Gellar. He was helping me in my search for God. He had the same interests in the "Life beyond" as I did. He knew that there was more to all this than just to live and die and that's it. The time I spent talking with him really helped me put my mind and soul at ease. But the Colonel didn't like the fact that I had let Larry into my inner circle, because he didn't understand or care about "Spirituality." He was also nervous that Larry would help me find the courage and sense to break away from the Colonel and go out on my own. I was loyal, to a fault. The Colonel helped promote me so that I could get out of the slums of Memphis and life as a truck driver. He helped bring me to the top of fame in time to buy my Mama a big house and make sure she got to have the best in life before she died. And I always felt I owed him for that. But in the end, for all the good he did in my life, that sonofabitch nearly killed me for his own greed.So anyway, on August 16th 1977 I knew that I had one last chance to get away from everything and get myself straight and back on track. I drew some cash out of my bank account, I worked with Joe Esposito, Charlie Hodge , Larry Gellar , and Jerry Schilling, and a couple of other friends I knew I could trust. They did what they had to do to help me get out of town and "stage" my death. The funny thing is it all went on like clockwork, just like one of our tours. We had been working together so long it was almost too easy. The only thing that hurt me was leaving my loved ones behind. My Daddy was sick and dying, and I almost considered waiting to do all this after he passed on. But with the book written by my body guards hitting the stands I knew that things were coming to a head. The Colonel would have me working double time to create good press to counter the bad press from the book. And I learned a trick or too from the Colonel over the years also. I knew the best way to keep my memory alive and well was to "die." SO I hugged my Daddy and My little "Yisa" goodbye and went on with the plan.I spent August 17th 1977 in a small town in Iowa. I watched on T.V. while everybody stood outside and mourned me. I was hold up in a motel under the name of Dr. John Burrows. I stayed there a few weeks and ordered take out chicken and watched T.V. I wanted to have time to grow a beard and let the grey hair grow out through the black dyed hair. I also had to focus all my energy on getting my sleep cycle normalized, and getting off the prescription drug dependancy. That first week was hell, have been an insomniac my whole life even before the drugs, so getting straight and having withdrawls ontop of insomnia was really tough. Eventually the poisons ran their course and left my body. I got my mind and body back on track. By the time I left the motel and headed off to Europe I was a grey haired man with a full beard. I was wearing normal street clothes and everybody thought I was dead. So It was easy for me to hop a plane and get out of the country. Pretty much after that I just layed low for a few years. I traveled, and walked the streets like everyone else. I got to see all the places I never got to see before. Other than my time in the Army when I was stationed in Germany, I'd never been outside the country except for once to a show in Canada in 1955. So it was fantastic just to walk around and be a tourist. I love my fans, I truly appreciate them. But without knowing it , or ever meaning to hurt me, they kinda made me a prisoner in a way. I had to live like a vampire and go out at night when everyone was sleeping. If I wanted to see a movie I had to rent the whole theatre. If I wanted to take my Daughter Lisa to the Carnival I had to rent out the whole park after hours. So to be able to go to a museum, or a cafe, or a 1,000 year old church and just sit there in awe of it's beauty without worrying about getting "mauled" was a great relief. Pretty soon the heat died down enough around me for me to make occasional visits to the U.S.A. to see my Daughter and my old friends. I know some people can't understand how I could just up and leave Lisa like that, but it was better than keeping things the way they were and dying . I was either gonna die and leave her forever, or "Stage" my death and be able to check up on her from time to time. I only saw her once in a great while with my tour schedule anyway, and Cilla was always a good mother to her. Cilla was good at keeping Lisa grounded in reality, that was never my strong suit.At any rate I have been blessed to see her grow into such a beautiful young woman.I have enjoyed watching develop her own singing career. I also need all my fans to know how much I appreciate them also. I have stood in amazement shoulder to shoulder with my fans next to my "grave". I have watched you weep and smile at the memories and the loss. But I am here to tell ya'll I aint quite dead yet. You'll know when I go because that spot next to my beloved Mama will get dug up when they lay me to rest next to her. but for now I live just as a man. A man proud to see his daughter and grandchildren are growing up. And humbled and blessed to see how much you all love me after all this time. Thank ya, Thank ya very much.