Let me preface these photographs with a statement: I have always found the celebration of all things Elvis odd, if not downright creepy. That didn’t stop me from wanting to go to Elvis’s birthplace in Tupelo, and it wasn’t going to stop me from going to Graceland when we were in Memphis. I don’t call it buying into the clichés, I call it cultural tourism. Fortunately Charles and Kerstin needed no convincing.
There she is, the Mecca of Rock n Roll. They’ll let anyone in, as long as you have 25$.
One of the more understated rooms in the house.
He may have been the King, but he had a pretty normal looking kitchen. Many a fried Peanut Butter and Banana sandwhich was made here.
The TV room. For our younger readers: Nintendo, Playstation, and XBox did not exist back then.
These are what Elvis used to change the channels.
His cell phone.
Obviously not a Dutch office.
In two weeks this view will be filled with wall to wall Elvis impersonators speaking as many languages as the U.N.
The End.
Temporary Person Passing Through 