Elvis. He is the King. The King of Rock and Roll, and the King of Tacky Interior Decorating.
There's his Mansion. A beautiful monument to southern style.
And then there's what he did to the inside.
I actually find it rather endearing. He had so much musical soul and energy. He moved the musical world. And yet his house is so normal. It felt like everything I wanted to forget about the 60's and 70's.
He had the money. Just no taste. Or at least, no good taste. Maybe it was the entire stick of butter he used to fry his bannana and peanut butter sandwiches. Maybe it was his love for his mother. Maybe it was the drugs. Or maybe, it was the bad taste of a generation gone wild. It was definately worth the one visit. Don't think I'll be returning anytime soon, though. The orange shag carpet in my own living room is enough to keep me humble.
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