A Tale of Pantera and Bad Parenting

"What's this? Is that a tear, Pantera? Oh, is Daddy's little girl upset? I'm gonna kick your ass into next Tuesday. Now get outa here!" -- Beavis

Every word of this is true.

As the heavy metal community is reeling from the untimely death of the legend Vinnie Paul, co-founder of the influential band Pantera, and drummer in Damageplan and Hellyeah, I have been taken back to one of the strangest nights of my life.

To set the stage, I was a tour guide at Graceland, where I worked for several years. Now, visitors get a headset with a canned recording, but back in the day, there were live tour guides who were supposed to follow a script. In fact, we took a lot of liberties -- what do you expect when you repeat the same thing about 100 times a day -- which is why I am sure they switched to a standardized recording. Thanks to the memory of the Internet, I can tell you with certainty that this story took place on August 10, 1994, when I had just turned 18. That afternoon, I was working in the trophy building, where a lot of Elvis' costumes and awards are displayed. I was, as I am now, a hard-core metalhead, and I recognize metal when I see it. A group comes in for my tour that clearly is a metal band, but one I did not recognize. "Hey, who are you?" I asked. "We are part of the band Prong," one of the guys answered. We chatted and I learned that they were playing the Mid-South Coliseum that night with Sepultura and Prong. I engaged them a lot during my tour, and at the end I asked them if there was any chance of getting comped to see the show. This was ballsy AF, but I am always of the philosophy that if you don't ask, you don't get. "Sure, happy to do it. Write down your name and I'll make sure a guest and you can get in," the guy said. Holy shit. I won the jackpot, but the plot thickens.

"Oh my God, can I come?" asks a teenager who also was on my tour and whom I had also been chatting with. "Um, I don't know how your mom would feel about that," I said. Mom quickly jumps in, "That's fine, as long as you can give her a ride back to our hotel." Turns out the girl is 14.

Let's take a break from our story here to collectively ask, "WT Actual F?" I am a parent now, and I can't for a second imagine letting either of my daughters go backstage to a heavy metal concert with a stranger. Not for a second, and not just because I would insist on going backstage. I wasn't a friend of a friend. I was a total stranger and one she just met. I guess I had a trustworthy look, because this girl's mom was down. Mom seemed totally normal, by the way, not at all sketchy.

The girl meets me after work and we ride in my car to the Coliseum. I was convinced my name would not be on the all-access list, but it was. We go backstage and the mayhem begins. Prong was already on stage at that point, but Pantera was hanging out backstage. Tales about vocalist Phil Anselmo's temper are legendary, and I only had a brief snapshot, but he lived up to the hype. Phil was having a huge tantrum about something, I don't know what. He was calmed by his girlfriend, a very beautiful, thin woman with full tattoo sleeves on each arm. After Phil left I complimented her on her calming skills, "I'm a social worker," she said with the resigned voice of someone used to deescalating conflict with an angry man.

Eventually, Pantera takes the stage and Prong has showered and come back to chill and drink. This is where things really got interesting. Tommy Victor, the singer of Prong, starts leering at the girl I am with, and not just leering: "Look at this. You are a fine piece of ass. I would like to do 1,000 things to you," was the gist of the conversation, which I definitely do not remember in detail because it was 26 years ago. I was hoping my guest would demure, but just the opposite happened: She goes and sits on his lap, and he starts kissing her neck and nuzzling her ear. Sweet Jesus. I told him, "Dude, she's only 14, " and his response was basically, "And???" Things progress and he invited my plus one to a quieter spot. Again, I'm thinking her self-preservation instincts will kick in, but no such thing happens, so I have to save her. I find some way to get her away from Victor for a second and say, "Whoa, you need to chill. Are you a virgin? I hope you're a virgin!" She told me she was, but was eager to be rid of that label. "Oh HELL NO," I said. "Not on my watch." She started arguing with me that it was her body and her choice. Please remember I am 18, not exactly old and wise, but somehow I knew I had to step up my game here.

"Listen, girl, I am about as degenerate as they come, but my degeneracy stops at letting a 14 year old girl lose her virginity to a rock star who will fuck her and forget her. You could get pregnant and you could get an STD, and this is not how you should lose your virginity. Trust me on this one." She actually continued to argue with me and then went back to sit on Victor's lap, where he continued to try to seduce her. Once again, things were getting heated, so I had to take a different tack. "Ok, girl. You have two choices. You can come watch Pantera with me, or we can leave." She wisely chose Pantera.

We watched their show, which was incredible. Sadly, I was not into music that heavy back then, and I had little appreciation for the talent and legends I was enjoying. I was thinking, "Cool band, great show, but I prefer Poison." Sigh. It is true that youth is wasted on the young. What I would give to see Pantera and Sepultura today!

After the show I had to take this wild child with me back to her hotel, which it turns out was really, really far away in Mississippi. Then I had to drive back to east Memphis. I don't think I got home until about 2 a.m., and I had to be up at 6 to get ready for another day of work.

This was not the first and hardly the last of the crazy stories that only happen to me. I don't remember that girl's name, but I hope she is happy and well and that she lost her virginity to someone who cared about her. As long as it wasn't on my watch, to a rock star, I don't care.

Elvis Birthday Shabbat

"When I was a child, ladies and gentlemen, I was a dreamer. I read comic books, and I was the hero of the comic book. I saw movies, and I was the hero in the movie. So every dream I ever dreamed, has come true a hundred times... I'd like to say that I learned very early in life that without a song, the day would never end. Without a song, a man ain't got a friend. Without a song, the road would never bend, without a song. So I keep singing a song."  - Elvis Presley accepting the Jaycees' award for being one of the Ten Outstanding Young Men of the Year,  Jan. 16, 1971 (video here)


David and I decided to finally give Elvis Presley his glory and celebrate his birthday. Although he would have been 77 on Jan. 8, we knew we wouldn't get many people here on a weeknight, and decided to throw a traditional Shabbat (Sabbath) dinner in his honor on the Jewish Sabbath. After all, the King had Jewish ancestry on his mother's side, so we knew he'd approve.

I have a genuine love of Elvis after three years of employment at Graceland, and I am always eager to initiate the uninitiated. I planned a traditional Southern meal for the occasion:

"Burning Love" Fried Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwiches
"Fever" chorizo beef sausage

Glady Presley’s Corn Bread

"Love Me Tender" BBQ Chicken

"Too Much" Memphis Coleslaw
"Viva Las Vegas" Lady Luck Black Eyed Peas

"Polk Salad Annie" Collard Greens
 and Kale
"Hound Dog" Baked Hush Puppies

"You're The Devil in Disguise" Pineapple Ice Box Cake (photo and recipe)

David, our sommelier, chose Clos Bel-Air's Montagne-Saint-Emilion wine to accompany our selection of beer and Coca-Cola. I'm not sure what that wine had to do with Elvis, but it is from France, and I'm sure Elvis French kissed!

Thanks to the handiwork of my sister, Lillie, we had awesome looking decorations including Elvis place mats and a kick-ass centerpiece for the table. David strung up Lillie's garlands and festive Elvis Birthday lights. You didn't think we'd leave the throne room undecorated, did you? The rock n' roll gods blessed us, and my mom sent some Elvis-themed gifts, including a Blue Hawaii tray that we used as a challah plate, a little pink Cadillac, and cups and napkins. Seriously, opening that box was better than Christmas, and I'm pretty sure this was the first time in history that someone served challah on a Blue Hawaii-themed item.

The meal was meant to be tasty, celebratory, informative, and, above all, FUN. To that end, we interrupted dinner several times to engage in some Elvis trivia questions ranging from the mundane ("How many movies did Elvis star in?" Answer: 33), to the racy ("Why was Priscilla Presley embarrassed to go to the Walgreens in Memphis?" Answer: because everyone knew why she was buying up all the Polaroid film, according to her book "Elvis & Me").

One of the most enjoyable parts of the evening for me was the Elvis Presley sing-a-long we did. David and I chose five of Elvis' most famous hits spanning his career and printed selected lyrics on a song sheet, which we all sang. What we lacked in talent we made up for in enthusiasm!

I had a huge smile on my face all night. My guests seemed to have a blast and enjoy dinner, and I have no doubt that all of us learned something about The King. Three days after the meal, I'm still getting very warm texts and emails from people who were here. The reason it was so much fun is that our friends got really into it, for which I'm thankful. They patiently listened while I regaled them with tales of working at Graceland, the best job of my life.

We wanted our guests to carry the spirit of the King into their life, so they left with a cute little Elvis magnet as a party favor.

There is little doubt that thanks to the success of this endeavor that Elvis Birthday Shabbat will be an annual event. What remains to be seen is whether it will stay small or morph into a bigger party so we can share the gospel with more acolytes. Long live The King!

Elvis Week

When I was 16, I started working at Graceland, the famed Memphis home of Elvis Aaron Presley. What began as kind of a joke ended up being by far the most rewarding and interesting job of my life. Back before the pre-recorded, stock tours visitors to the mansion listen to now, I was a tour guide at Graceland mansion and the accompanying attractions like Elvis's two airplanes, and the really awesome movie that plays in the plaza every 20 minutes. I've watched that movie around a thousand times, and I never got sick of it.

The biggest event of the year for Elvis Presley Enterprises (EPE) is Elvis Week, the extravaganza that brings in thousands of Elvis fans around the world to celebrate and mourn The King of Rock n' Roll. Elvis Week culminates with the Candlelight Vigil on the night of August 15, the night before Elvis died at his home. Tens of thousands of Elvis fans walk up the long driveway to Graceland and around to the grave sites of Elvis and his family on the side of the estate. To say that I was snarky about Elvis's hard-core fans when I started at Graceland is understating it; I wondered what kind of losers flew from Asia and Australia to stand in line for hours to file past a grave at a very specific hour. My attitude would soon change.

I had my first unusual siting during Elvis Week as I was walking from the employee parking lot up to the ornate gates of the mansion with my coworker. In Memphis, there are not many homeless people on the streets, and they definitely don't hang out in Whitehaven, the neighborhood where Graceland is. "Oh, Mike," I said. "That's so sad! Look at those homeless people sleeping outside the gates." Mike, a seasoned veteran, chuckled. "They're not homeless -- they're fans!" When I looked again, I saw that the family had an extension cord plugged into an outlet they found somewhere, and they were watching TV on the sidewalk like it was the most normal thing to do. That family, and many others, were camping out to be among the first people to ascend the hill during the Candlelight Vigil. In case you're planning a trip to Elvis Week, please note that no matter how early you camp out, if you are not affiliated with a registered Elvis fan club, you will be behind the thousands of official fan club members, so wear really comfortable shoes. Additionally, book your hotel room really early, or you'll end up commuting in from far out in Mississippi and Arkansas since every hotel room in Memphis and its close environs will have been sold out for 11 months.

As Elvis Week progressed, the elaborate floral arrangements you see above start to roll in from the fan clubs. There are so many of them that few get displayed, and the ones that are displayed on the driveway and at the grave site are rotated frequently to showcase others. I was new to this whole Elvis Week culture, and was a little intimidated at first by the Fans. I mean Fans with a capital "F": the hard-core, Elvis fans. They are easy to spot, as they are usually clothed head to toe in Elvis paraphernalia. Some, but not all, are middle aged and they literally come from all over the world and will eagerly tell you that they saved their money for years to make the journey to Memphis. Some come every year, like the haj. I was afraid the Fans would be really hard on me as a tour guide, or try to usurp my role. Nothing could be further from the truth. The Fans are frikkin' awesome. They are the nicest, most genuine people. They love EPE employees whom they believe are carrying on the King's life's work, and they are eager to show their appreciation. Accepting tips was strictly forbidden, so the fans would bring us roses or get us tickets to exclusive Elvis Week events that their fan club was hosting. Cool stuff like that.

As Elvis Week went on, God softened my heart to the Fans. How could it not be softened? I had hundreds of conversations with the Fans, and a theme became very clear: Elvis made their lives better. They loved Elvis as much for his philanthropy as for his music, and they were totally committed to charitable works and service in the name of the King. I don't know of any other entertainer who has had a similar effect on his or her fans. People are fanatical about many musicians, but how many times have you heard people say, "I work at a soup kitchen because Michael Jackson influenced me to help people in my community" or "I raised $10,000 for a charity because Lady Gaga made me realize the importance of doing my part to make the world a better place"? The Fans truly look up to Elvis and try hard to impart his generosity and charity in the ways they can. How can you not respect that? People often ascribe a religious fervor to Elvis Fandom, but they don't get it: they think that the religious undertones are veneration for Elvis's music. It's not. It's that call to service, to making the world a better place, that illuminates the fans and bonds them together. The Fans love of all things Elvis is critical, of course, but secondary.

My first year at Graceland I was eager to experience the Vigil for myself, so I volunteered to work the night of Aug. 15. I am so glad I did. It was truly overwhelming to see tens of thousands of people holding candles, making their way up the driveway all night to pay their respects at Elvis' graves. They cry. Elvis music plays all night on speakers. I cried. I drove home the next morning after being awake and on my feet for about 14 hours.

Today marks 33 years since Elvis died, and the fans are no less passionate now than they were in 1977 or in 1992-1994 when I worked at Graceland. In fact, 15,000 fans withstood Memphis's 118-degree heat index last night to walk up the driveway and pay their respects. Elvis, I was a doubter when I went to work at your house, but my admiration and respect for you grew during the two years I worked there. I came to revel in your entertainment and respect your commitment to your friends, to Memphis, and to the world at large. I once was lost, but now am found. Was blind, but now I see. Rest in peace, Elvis.