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$.
