For the record, I am by no means a major Elvis fan. I like the music for the most part, find the stories about his generosity endearing and can appreciate the national landmark status he has achieved. I catch Elvis documentaries on TV (there was one the other night in the 10 Moments series I wrote about the other day), live for his cheesy major motion pictures, but I'm not camping out at Graceland or anything. I know enough without the obsession factor.
By many accounts, Elvis loved giving his money away, giving Cadillacs as gifts and seemed like an all-around good guy. He realized how blessed he'd been in his life and career and tried to spread the wealth a little. Unlike current stars who have done this and ultimately bankrupted themselves, Elvis moved enough cash that he was able to fund these spending sprees.There's a small documentary, 200 Cadillacs on Netflix that's pretty charming and worth a look if you need to fill your queue that focuses on this and you can pretty much get a feel for those who stood around with a hand out looking for free loot and those who were uncomfortable by the whole thing.
Jerry Schilling seems to be one of the guys who loved working for Elvis, but wasn't too keen on the lavish gifts that were constantly being given. I can respect that.
George Klein is a radio personality who was tapped for the most recent documentary and I'm surprised they were able to crowbar him off of Presley's corpse long enough to get a microphone on him. What a whore.
(Let me stop here and say that with my limited knowledge of Elvis' posse, Klein may have been a legit best buddy with Elvis. As I have never seen him before, I think I'm OK here, but if he's one of the good guys, my apologies. That said, I don't think I'm wrong.)
If Klein could record his voice saying, "Elvis and me..." or "So I says to Elvis... I says, Elvis..." and wire them to play when a button is pushed he could save a lot of time and stress on his vocal cords. Why, you ask? Because this starfucking little punk will only start sentences with those two variations of the same thought from what I saw.
If you ever have a chance to eat dinner with this douchebag, I'd say go for it. I'd love to hear this ass sucking little chump try to order dinner for starters.
You: "I'll have the bacon cheeseburger, no pickles and with the cole slaw."
Waiter: "Very good, and for you sir?"
Klein: "Elvis and me used to always get waffles for dinner. Elvis and me used to also want a Coke with that. Elvis and me would also like separate checks..."
The waiter would think your name was Elvis, which would be cool in and of itself, plus it'd be an evening with a suped-up third-person name dropper. Like eating with Bob Dole and Bob Dole. (Is anyone else shocked that there aren't hundreds of Elvises running around? Is this some unwritten rule of the South? They're the only ones screwy enough to do so and they haven't yet. Or do they all just stay at home and never venture out as the Golden children of their families?)
The whole thing is just kind of distasteful to me. If you were Elvis' friend, that's fine and there are understated ways to point that out, because let's face it, it's gotta be a great pickup line. Still, in interviews with band members, close friends like Schilling (who has several great stories in 200 Cadillacs) and other people who knew Elvis well, they take a step back from the big man and let him be the hero and focal point.
Klein needs to be the one counseling Elvis, pointing things out for him, holding his hand and walking him through life. I don't buy a second of it. Can you only imagine how many more of these dickheads would be floating around with another 30 years to breed?
I don't know if Elvis faked his death, but if he did, it was to duck George Klein and his incessant phone calls.
(Photo from Elvis.com)
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