I'm standing outside the gates of Graceland Mansion with my friend Wess. I tell him I think this whole Elvis thing is a joke. He warns me that the people who've come here this afternoon most definitely do not. As we view Elvis' private 707, the Lisa Marie, our young tour guide tells us that the seat belts on the aircraft beds were an FAA regulation and not Elvis' idea.
"Guess I'm just thinkin' bout the King, ma'am," I snicker and say, and inside the Jungle Room I blurt out, "I will never forget Elvis's immortal words..." Then I sing a Beatles song.