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Suffering and worry seemed to be the very fabric of the Presleys’ lives. Any time Elvis failed to call home for two days in a row, they worried that something terrible had happened to him in California. Elvis’s enormous success and wealth notwithstanding, they were convinced that some misfortune was going to snatch it all away from them. Sometimes all this talk of suffering depressed me.
I wanted to say, “Elvis, talk to me, help me get through these new experiences.” But I realized that he didn’t want to hear about my problems. He felt he had enough of his own. When he asked me how I was doing, I became very animated and said, “Just great, Elvis. Everything is wonderful.”
Graceland was—as local DJ George Klein put it—ready to rock and roll.
My world consisted solely of him.
“Well, what if he starts spreading rumors, like I go out at night?” “It might create some excitement around here. This town’s dead. Memphis needs a little gossip!”
Sounds like a disclaimer
He’s not wrong
Elvis loved the bumper cars and would team up with the entourage against some locals. They’d spend the night seemingly trying to kill each other, laughing and bruising themselves like tough little boys while we girls watched and cheered them on. After several hours my own enthusiasm waned.
Ew
That sounded great to me. I’d never planned on a future without Elvis. Therefore, while my classmates were deciding which colleges to apply to, I was deciding which gun to wear with what sequined dress.
With that attitude it was no surprise that I was still woefully unprepared for my most hated subject, algebra, the week before finals.
Well,
As soon as I could get away, I ran outside. In front of the church, Elvis and the boys were standing by the long black limo, looking like the Chicago Mafia in their dark glasses and suits, each concealing a.38. Around them a group of nuns were clamoring for Elvis’s autograph.
Elvis knew how to play hard and have fun. I miss those times.
I tried on one of her dresses and could tell that she liked soft materials on her skin, just as I did.
A mutual friendship and professional respect between Elvis and Ann-Margaret would continue until his death.
Huh
Whenever I stated my own opinions too strongly, especially if they differed from his, he’d remind me that his was the stronger sex, and as a woman, I had my place. He liked to say that it was intended for woman to be on the left side of man, close to his heart, where she gives him strength through her support.
I would put on my brightest smile, my prettiest dress—and my phoniest personality—and try to rouse his spirits. When I couldn’t get him out of the dumps, he would shut himself up all day in his room. This left me devastated. Afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing, I suppressed my real feelings and eventually developed an ulcer.
He drew in a deep breath and said, “I like your perfume, honey. What’s it called?” “Chanel Number Five,” she answered. Chanel Number Five? That’s what I was wearing! Why didn’t he notice it on me?
I wanted to share romantic, not religious, inspirations with him.
He read that Yogananda had reached such a high state of consciousness that his spirit could control his body even after death. Yogananda’s body lay in an open casket at Forest Lawn Cemetery for over twenty days without showing any signs of decomposition. It was this kind of higher state of consciousness that Elvis was hoping to achieve.
“I’ll show you something, if you want to get into an argument,” Elvis said. He shot out a karate kick, and to his surprise—and everyone else’s—he knocked a pack of cigarettes out of the guy’s pocket. Among our group, Elvis wasn’t known for his precision in karate.
Weekends we took trips through the Santa Monica Mountains, stopping off for beer or cola along the way. It was fast, fun, and wild. I liked it so much I wanted my own bike. Despite his concern for my safety, Elvis reluctantly bought me a Honda Dream 350. While he was at the studio I sometimes rode alone, fleeing Bel Air, Beverly Hills, Hollywood, MGM, and all my worries.
Welp
Jerry Schilling found Rising Sun at a nearby stable. He was the handsomest palomino imaginable—big and powerful. He’d been trained for shows, and I’ve never seen an animal that demanded and thrived on as much attention as Rising Sun. There was no doubt that this was the horse for Elvis.
However, after.
One night when Elvis went to Mount Washington to talk with Daya Mata and I was driving to Joan Esposito’s for a visit, I noticed a car with bright headlights tailgating me. It was one of Elvis’s most ardent fans, a two-hundred-pound female who was accompanied by another girl and a guy. Feeling unsafe, I decided to turn around and go home. She followed close all the way and by the time I drove through the gates, I was furious. Seeing her drive up to the dead-end road above our house, I sped after her, parking my car broadside across the road, blocking her. She was standing beside her car when I
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Unrelatable
Joe Esposito, our only Italian and a “gourmet chef,” kidded me all week about how he bet that my lasagna wouldn’t be as good as his. All that ribbing only made me more nervous. I kept thinking, What do I know about pasta? I’m not even Italian.
I loved seeing Elvis happy, but I was still uncertain about how my unexpected pregnancy would affect our marriage. This was supposed to have been our time alone. I wanted to be beautiful for him; instead, my debut as Elvis’s bride was going to be spoiled by a fat stomach, puffy face, and swollen feet.
Although the doctor said that a twenty-five-pound gain would be fine, I immediately dropped from my normal one hundred ten pounds to one hundred. During the next four months, I regained just five pounds, and only nine more by the time of delivery. Eating one meal a day and snacking on apples and hard-boiled eggs, I prided myself on never needing to buy a maternity outfit. My doctor advised that in addition to taking multiple vitamins I should consume plenty of dairy products. Being vain, I amended my doctor’s instructions and lessened my intake of dairy products. I did not want to gain weight
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I still kept up with my ballet, rode my motorcycle and my horse Domino, right up until the eighth month of pregnancy. Elvis thought I was absolutely incredible to keep up with him in every way. That made me happy. I was pleasing him and still by his side every day.
Huh
I disappeared calmly into the bathroom and applied my ever-so-black mascara and teased my ever-so-black hair. Later at the hospital I requested special permission to keep on my double set of lashes.
“Nungen,” he whispered, which was his way of saying “young one.” “Us has a little baby girl.” “Her knows,” I whispered back.
“We brought Lisa to our room, put her in the middle of the bed with us. She’s such a good baby—we can’t believe she’s ours.”
I am no purveyor of Freudian theory. I believe when a man comes into the world, his first unconditional love is his mother. She cuddles him, gives him warmth, the breast for nourishment, and everything he needs to exist. None of those feelings has a sexual connotation. Later, when his own wife becomes a mother, this bank of memories is ripped open and his passion may dissipate.
On April 20 I wrote in my diary: “I embarrassed myself last night. I wore a black negligee, laid as close to Elvis as I could while he read. I guess it was because, I knew what I wanted and was making it obvious. I kissed his hand, then each finger, then his neck and face. But I waited too long. His sleeping pills had taken effect. Another lonely night.”
Elvis was positive Tom was black; no white singers could belt out a song like that, except the Righteous Brothers, who much to his surprise were also white.
He couldn’t abide singers who were, in his words, “all technique and no emotional feeling” and in this category he firmly placed Mel Torme and Robert Goulet. They were both responsible for two television sets being blown away with a.357 Magnum.
Where does Lisa come in?
The hours I devoted to dance released him from the strain of my dependence.
Wow
This was the first time I’d been with Elvis at a high point in his career.
I glanced at Patsy apprehensively and she in turn grasped my hand as we comforted each other, longing for the night to end without incident.
Thriving on all the excitement, glamour, and hysteria, he found it difficult to go home and resume his role as father and husband. And for me the impossibility of replacing the crowd’s adoration became a real-life nightmare.
“Well, okay,” Vernon said.
My view of life had been fashioned by Elvis. I had entered his world as a young girl and he had provided absolute security.
Jerry arranged for a limo to pick them up at the airport and drive them to the White House. It was 6:30 a.m. and Elvis was dressed in black, including his black cape, sunglasses, his large gold International belt, and a cane. He approached the gate looking, as Jerry put it, like Dracula.
