Re posting: Of course, I cried when I read it. I hate sad endings.
The first thing that I thought of when the announcer said "cardiac arrest" was Elvis Presley. Remember that hot summer day when he died? My father left the radio on all night long listening to the tributes.
My friend Nancy, a psychologist, told me about seeing Elvis during his last appearance in Greensboro, NC. He was obviously ill, yet mesmerizing. She longed to go backstage and talk to him; she wondered what his story was.
For my friend Duck, Hank Williams' untimely death was a major shock. He still remembers seeing Hank in person in a small venue and being unable to take his eyes off him. Every New Year's Eve, he listens to Hank in tribute, a habit that I've acquired. I find a lonely road-in short supply these days-and drive around listening to Hank and musing about music, our icons, and how time slips away.
It's amazing how many magnetic performers end up destroying themselves. The contrast between swaggering confidence and fearful vulnerability that draws us to them also rips them apart.
Have you read the Peter Guralnick biography of Elvis: Last Train to Memphis and Careless Love? Both books are good. Ironically, the books were among the last gifts I ever gave my father, who was among those who bought Elvis' early Sun recordings.
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Date: 2009-06-27 12:35 am (UTC)The first thing that I thought of when the announcer said "cardiac arrest" was Elvis Presley. Remember that hot summer day when he died? My father left the radio on all night long listening to the tributes.
My friend Nancy, a psychologist, told me about seeing Elvis during his last appearance in Greensboro, NC. He was obviously ill, yet mesmerizing. She longed to go backstage and talk to him; she wondered what his story was.
For my friend Duck, Hank Williams' untimely death was a major shock. He still remembers seeing Hank in person in a small venue and being unable to take his eyes off him. Every New Year's Eve, he listens to Hank in tribute, a habit that I've acquired. I find a lonely road-in short supply these days-and drive around listening to Hank and musing about music, our icons, and how time slips away.
It's amazing how many magnetic performers end up destroying themselves. The contrast between swaggering confidence and fearful vulnerability that draws us to them also rips them apart.
Have you read the Peter Guralnick biography of Elvis: Last Train to Memphis and Careless Love? Both books are good. Ironically, the books were among the last gifts I ever gave my father, who was among those who bought Elvis' early Sun recordings.