I just finished a two part series on Netflix about Elvis Presley. It weren't too bad either. Not the usual style of documentary and it kept me hooked all the way. I can't say I'm a huge Elvis fan or anything but I do remember crying when he died. I was about ten or eleven years old, sick at home in bed recovering from appendix surgery and I heard it on the radio when I woke up.
I've often thought about that and why I cried. It wasn't because I had all of his records or loved his music, but it was the realisation that my regular Saturday afternoon movie double would never feel the same.
Back when I was a kid there was always two movies on a particular channel on a saturday. Most often it started with a Lewis and Martin comedy or a Francis the Talking Mule movie. then there was maybe a Walter Mitty or as was most often the case, an Elvis movie.
I loved these movies, I mean they were re runs and I probably watched every one of then 4 times, but they're the first movies I really loved and now the biggest star of them was dead.
Anyways, the documentary got me searching out Elvis funeral photos and man, that dude was loved wasn't he?
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