The King and I

Gary Little

For most people the posters you had on your wall as a child would normally reflect the musical trends of the day, or the football team you supported. As a 13 year old boy growing up in Glasgow this should have meant The Sex Pistols (if I was really cool) and Glasgow Rangers. For my wall, I had a full size poster of Elvis Presley. I had bought the poster at the Barras for £2.50. This was his Vegas Years, electric blue jump suit, open from the waist up, with the heavy medallion finishing the look. I thought he looked amazing. On reflection, there was no reason why this overweight, 41 year old singer should have been in my life. It wasn't as if my parents were big fans. There were no LPs of his lying around, nor were there the blatantly lying anecdotal tales such as "Yir ma served Elvis a boatel a ginger when she worked at Prestwick Airport" to keep his name alive. I think most families in Glasgow had at least one member of their family that had a pop star story. "Yer uncle Tam get aff wae that wee Lulu before she became famous". At the time, it was just a cool looking poster.

There are many significant dates in modern history; Kennedy shot, Armstrong landing on the moon, the Berlin Wall collapse, and the planes crashing into the Twin Towers. These events will usually be followed by the question "where were you when it happened?" I can't answer for these events, but I can tell you where I was on 17th August 1977 when I heard Elvis Presley died. I was in the living room with my older sister watching News at Ten. The fact I was watching the news didn't show I had an interest in current affairs, but was a small sacrifice that allowed me to stay up late. As the news came to an end, Reginald Bosenquet, the newsreader that night, announced a newsflash "we have just received a newsflash that Elvis Presley has died."

My sister said "that's terrible". I said nothing. I got off my chair, walked up to my bedroom, shut the door and lay on my bed. I started crying. I had experienced crying before, I was a child, but this was a different feeling from the other times. On those occasions I had reason to cry, but why now? Why was I crying for this stranger? The simple fact I had never experienced the loss anyone in my life before. No family deaths, not even the death of a pet to practice on. This was the first time, and it hurt.