Monday, August 16, 2010

Elvis Has Left the Building

It was August 17th, 1977, a Tuesday.   Wifey and I were driving down the California coast after a weekend in our ocean cabin.  It was a sunny day, not a cloud in the sky.  The top on our convertible was down, music tuned to a San Francisco station, wind in our hair and most likely there was a can of cold beer between my legs (back in the day that's the only way I could balance myself while driving plus my nuts seemed to always need cooling off).

Driving home marked the end of a long weekend, a great one.  There's nothing like sleeping near the ocean.  The smell, the sounds, the stars, a cresent moon.  Spending time at the cabin was always a piece of heaven.

About halfway home the music on the radio was interrupted with the announcement that the King was dead. 

Live fast.  Die young.  Leave a good looking corpse.  That's what I was thinking.

We stopped the car at an open spot in the road that overlooked the Pacific ocean.  I slipped a tape of the King's music into the car's stereo and this song came up:


La Roo said...

You have a good memory. The beer next to the nuts probably had something to do with it. :)
It sounds like it was a nearly perfect senario.

Bob said...

They say, as you age, that memory is the first thing to go. I forget what the second thing is.....

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Whiskeytown Lake, Very Northern California, United States