Why?

The other night at dinner my husband asked me a question that I had no answer for right off the top of my head. We were talking about the topic that makes up about 90% of our conversations these days; our oldest son’s upcoming wedding. In the course of what we were discussing, I said something about how I would be using the journal my husband gave me for Christmas by the time we leave for the wedding. The journal I’m about to finish up is over-sized. The new one will be easier to pack. Then my husband asked the question – why did I keep a journal?

I had no answer for that question. In the sixth grade I began to keep my first diary. It was a small green book with a lock and key. Of course the key soon got lost but that didn’t matter much. No one was dying to read what I wrote. From that time on, I have written about my life. Not everyday. Heaven knows I’m not that organized. Sometimes I go for long stretches of time without writing in a journal. Yet I always come back to it.

One period of time that I wrote very detailed journal entries was from about 1973 until the late 1970s. These journals were about the time I saw Elvis Presley in concert. For some reason I felt it very important to document my Elvis adventures. Now I am glad I have these journals. The thought has been in my mind to turn them into a book about being a die hard Elvis fan.

Later in life when I went to college (I went to college when my youngest son was a senior in high school. Late bloomer is an understatement in my case.) journaling was used in some of my classes. Journals were a tool used to get older students back into the swing of writing. That pushed me to start writing in my personal journals again. Now I write in my journal everyday. Why do I do it?

Writing lets me express myself. I can put down what I really think and feel. Blogging is the way people write about their daily life nowadays. I blog too but blogging is too public for me. I’m not the kind of person who would write something on a blog that could hurt someone who might have access to the blog. My journal is private. I know someday someone will have the task of deciding what to do with my journals.

Maybe future family members will be interested in what life was like for me. One generation getting a peep into how another generation thought and felt. Back to the question that started this whole blog – why do I write in a journal? Well, to be truthful there is only one good reason; I enjoy it. Writing in my journal is something I do just for myself. My own private time. And that is reason enough for me.

A Birthday Gift from Elvis

A gift can sometimes be a very rare thing and I was lucky enough to receive such a rare gift from Elvis. How many Elvis fans can say they got a birthday gift from Elvis? I am one of the fortunate few. My gift was a song Elvis sang on New Year’s Eve, 1976, while performing in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The night Elvis sang the song, I had no idea it had anything to do with me. I wouldn’t know that until two months later in February, 1977. Sounds strange, doesn’t it? Well, it all started in March of 1976.

Elvis was playing three shows in Johnson City, Tennessee. He was staying in a not-so- nice hotel in Bristol, Tennessee. We, my husband, a friend, and myself, went to look at Elvis’s plane at the airport on Kingsport. Then we went over to Bristol to check out the hotel where Elvis was staying. At the hotel coffee shop, we met Al Strada, one of Elvis’ bodyguards.

Our friend had just returned from our hometown about three hours away with contact sheets of pictures from the previous night’s show. This was in the olden days, before digital cameras. Even before one hour film processing, so it was unusual to see photos from a concert the next day. (My husband and friend used a pro-lab who could do this. It wasn’t like they took the film to the local drugstore.) While we were talking I said I wished Elvis would perform my favorite song in concert, Rags to Riches. Al wasn’t aware that Elvis had recorded a version of the song.

In December Elvis performed Rags to Riches at the piano during his Pittsburgh New Year’s Eve concert. I in no way related it to my birthday which was the same day; it would be nearly two months later, February, 1977 that the two events would be connected for me. We saw Al again in Charlotte, NC. He smiled and asked me how I liked my birthday present. I was floored. How had any of them known it was my birthday? Looking back at that night, I figured it out. About seven of us had been waiting for Elvis when he arrived in Pittsburgh from the concert in Atlanta, Georgia. The advance team had allowed us to stay in the underground parking garage to watch Elvis arrive, telling the hotel manager that we were ok. (That night is another story in itself. One for another blog.) The guys couldn’t believe we came all the way to Pittsburgh to attend a concert when Atlanta was so much closer to our home. My husband explained that New Year’s Eve was my birthday. That cleared up the mystery of how Elvis, Al, or anyone knew it was my birthday.

Every year on my birthday I always remember the year I got one of the best presents ever – the year Elvis sang my favorite song for me. It is one of my own private memories of Elvis and I treasure it.

Memory Keepers

Like most everyone I have read thousands or maybe millions of words written since the death of Michael Jackson. These words are just the tip of the iceberg compared to the television coverage of the event. In all this media reporting one group of people have been overlooked – the fans. Once in awhile some reporter will point out someone who had purchased tickets to a London O2 concert and planned to fly over from the United States. That story always turns into the issue of refunding ticket money. The group I’m talking about is not someone who bought a concert ticket. I am talking about die-hard fans; like the ones who stayed outside of Michael Jackson’s Los Angles home in the vans. I can so relate to these people because I was them in August, 1977.

This is not an easy time for these fans. Grieving is never easy for anyone but it is made harder by all the information and stories being reported every day. People don’t have much sympathy for fans. Understanding a fan’s loss is impossible for most of the general public, but it is a very big loss. Fans are part of a group people joined together by a common interest. When that interest is a person and not a sport or hobby, it is looked upon as strange. Other fans understand and support Michael Jackson fans at this terrible time. They become a surrogate family for each other.

In the coming days Michael Jackson fans will hear many disturbing things about Jackson. Things they will not want to believe or accept. All of this is part of the legacy of Michael Jackson. Nothing takes away from the talent he shared with the world. It is a great sadness that so many people with such great gifts suffer so much unhappiness and pain. Maybe that suffering is part of what allows a super talented artist to connect with an audience. We all have pain at one time or another. It’s a common thread running through life. Fame and wealth doesn’t take the pain away. It does provide the means to deal with the pain in a way not available to everyone and that is not always a good thing.

Take heart, Michael Jackson fans. His music will outlast all the stories. Remember that fans of other artists, who left us too early, like Elvis Presley, understand what you are going through. Your world is dark now but it’ll get brighter. Life will never be the same. You are the ones who are keepers of the memories. The reasons for you being a die hard fan are pure. Money and greed was not involved – only love. When the time is right, and you’ll know, the world will know your story. This is the story I’m waiting to hear.