76407:
I, too, 'did time' with an Elvis impersonator (a really bad one, that had a great band), and it was the usual for that kind of gig: the white suits, the drummer killing himself playing all those over-the-top Ronnie Tutt parts, the scarves. . . . and I always wondered WHY no one ever did a show as Elvis the young man: Fresh out of Memphis, the world at his feet.
Then one day, it came to me: Who the hell could?
I think it is so sad that he came to throw his life away. The true curse of it all is drugs and alcohol, whether from the street, or over-prescribed for those with the right connections.
In a more cynical life, I often wondered why, if Hendrix, for instance, was such a genius, he OD'd and drowned in his own vomit, I never thought that kind of genius would ever get me a scholarship to Berklee.
Now, it just makes me sad. It's happened too much for me to get mad anymore. And it just keeps happening, Bobby Hatfield passed away just this week. From 'Bird and Hank Williams, to Entwistle, and on and on . . . won't this EVER dawn on people? I guess not.
I'm sure this isn't the thread for this, but I can never think of him (and SO many others) without that tinge of sadness, of lives cut short needlessly. And the party line about sex,drugs, and rock and roll, or burning brightly/burning out fast just doesn't make any sense any more.
J o e y