42 also works well for us Elvis heads who get weird sensations around the number seven:
1935, age 0: well, nothing much happened, probably. 1942, age 7: okay, ditto. 1949, age 14: moved to Memphis. 1956, age 21: hit it big nationally, although by that point the magic of Uncle Sam Phillips had dissipated and the evil snakelike charms of Colonel Parker had moved in. 1963, age 28: pretty much hit rock-bottom with regard to crappy zoned-out beach-bunny movies (though Charro!, the Elvis Western, was still a few years off). There is a theory with some credence among those who like to write and rock and write about rock that it was absolutely necessary for Elvis to go into the army and become a B-movie zombie for most of the span of the awful 1960s; it allowed him to stay perfectly preserved while all the Beatley sillines and everything related to baby-boomer peak-year stupidity was going on, so that he could return in full glory in 1969, by which point Led Zeppelin had also taken flight and squashed all those fucking hippies. But that's a story for another day. 1970, age 35: Er, see above. He'd gone Vegas, but was everything splendiferous and super-zowie and magically Elvicious -- read, vulgar and perfectly, wonderfully, 200-proof American -- that he could be. 1977, age 42: Forgets to take his fiber pill and ends up munching carpet in the bathroom at Graceland, so to speak. Elvis is dead. Or is he?
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Date: 2006-04-22 07:12 pm (UTC)1935, age 0: well, nothing much happened, probably.
1942, age 7: okay, ditto.
1949, age 14: moved to Memphis.
1956, age 21: hit it big nationally, although by that point the magic of Uncle Sam Phillips had dissipated and the evil snakelike charms of Colonel Parker had moved in.
1963, age 28: pretty much hit rock-bottom with regard to crappy zoned-out beach-bunny movies (though Charro!, the Elvis Western, was still a few years off). There is a theory with some credence among those who like to write and rock and write about rock that it was absolutely necessary for Elvis to go into the army and become a B-movie zombie for most of the span of the awful 1960s; it allowed him to stay perfectly preserved while all the Beatley sillines and everything related to baby-boomer peak-year stupidity was going on, so that he could return in full glory in 1969, by which point Led Zeppelin had also taken flight and squashed all those fucking hippies. But that's a story for another day.
1970, age 35: Er, see above. He'd gone Vegas, but was everything splendiferous and super-zowie and magically Elvicious -- read, vulgar and perfectly, wonderfully, 200-proof American -- that he could be.
1977, age 42: Forgets to take his fiber pill and ends up munching carpet in the bathroom at Graceland, so to speak. Elvis is dead. Or is he?