Quite honestly, I can barely stand to watch this video anymore since it took me seven bajillion hours to make it and if I never hear the opening bars to Paul Simon's Graceland again it will be far too soon, but if you don't mind the fact that you're going to get the chorus stuck in your head for the next two weeks, here's something that captures pretty accurately the trip I took with my parents and sister last week to Memphis, Tennessee.
There's a lot of waving. I'm not quite sure why there's so much waving.
Upon hearing we were going to take this trip, the number one question I got was "wow, are you guys really big Elvis fans?" And while I'd say we're all pretty middle-of-the-road in our Elvis appreciation—I mean we like him, obviously (who doesn't?) but we're certainly a few notches down from the hardcore fans walking around Graceland who'd tap you on the shoulder if they heard you musing out loud about something and provide you with a historically accurate answer to the question you didn't know you were asking, along with several different source analyses and footnotes—our pilgrimage was nevertheless poignant, in part because that combination of the four of us isn't one that spends a lot of time together often.
And boy, did we make the most of it. We ate and drank and sang and talked, and made nightly trips to Target to buy cases of beer for our hotel minifridge. On Sunday afternoon, my mother even sent us all away for a half hour and set up an Easter Egg Hunt. My sister is 22, I am 32, and my dad is.....well, it's not polite to say, but let's just all imagine the spectacular tableau of three grown adults hunting for brightly colored eggs in 300 square feet of hotel room. It was wonderful. The whole trip was wonderful. Now if I could just get this song out of my head.