randomness

I caught a few minutes of Pulp Fiction last night on the idiot box. It loses a lot when edited for TV. It's been a while since I saw the entire reel. I remembering needing to watch it twice to appreciate it. This time I caught the scene where Uma tells JT that there are two types of people in the world: Elvis people and Beatles people.

I think I could have been an Elvis person if it wasn't for a neighbor I had for a few years growing up. She was a cruel, large, hateful women with two bratty kids and a rail-thin worm of a husband. They moved to Jersey from Texas and liked to explain at ever turn how they had just moved to Jersey from Texas. When Elvis died I was 11 years old. I remember that it was all over the three channels we got at the time. Every radio station was playing montages for days. That reaction was expected. What I didn't expect and remember most displeasurably from August 1977 is my neighbor walking around her back yard sobbing uncontrollably about the Large Man's passing. This went on for hours. If you didn't know any better, you'd think she was having liposuction done with a vacuum and a straw. At one point, I remember my old man just looking toward her yard and shaking his head. He was speechless, and that's a pretty hard thing to do to my old man.

So I think that's why I never developed a better appreciation for Elvis. I love the Blues. I listen to Jazz. I like Rockabilly more than I probably should. But thanks to my hideous neighbor, I just can't get my arms around Elvis (and there honestly is not a pun intended there).