There it was, splashed across the front page of the newspaper: \u201cElvis Coming to Vegas!\u201d It was the summer of 1970 and I was on break after my first year of teaching.<\/p>\n
My friend Barb\u2014a fellow teacher in New York\u2014and I had just checked into our hotel room in Denver, Colorado, the starting point of our three-week Greyhound bus tour through the Western United States.<\/p>\n
I\u2019d been looking forward to this trip all year. But seeing Elvis perform live? My heart did somersaults. Now that was something I\u2019d dreamed about nearly my whole life!<\/p>\n
\u201cBarb! Elvis Presley is doing a concert in Vegas in two weeks!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, so?\u201d Barb said. \u201cI\u2019ve never really cared for him.\u201d<\/p>\n
I was shocked. Who didn\u2019t love Elvis?<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s my favorite!\u201d I exclaimed, grabbing a pen and rerouting our trip on the hotel memo pad. \u201cInstead of going to Albuquerque, the Grand Canyon, L.A., San Francisco, Reno, Salt Lake City and back to Denver, let\u2019s reverse the order and scoot to Vegas after L.A. Wouldn\u2019t that be fun?\u201d<\/p>\n
Barb looked at me as if I\u2019d lost my mind. \u201cOh, please, Barb,\u201d I begged. \u201cJust think about it.\u201d Although I didn\u2019t understand what there was to think about. I mean, this was Elvis. The King of Rock and Roll!<\/p>\n
I\u2019d been an Elvis fan for as long as I could remember. I wasn\u2019t even sure how it started. Maybe it was when I was in grade school and an older cousin plastered Presley\u2019s picture all over her closet door. Soon, everyone who knew me knew about my obsession.<\/p>\n
When I was in high school, the girl who sat in front of me in homeroom brought me magazine clippings about Elvis. \u201cI know you like him,\u201d she said. Like <\/em>was an understatement. His songs were catchy, his voice full of emotion, and his stage presence was magnetic\u2014even on my grainy black-and- white TV.<\/p>\n More than all that, Elvis was everything I wasn\u2019t: Bold. Confident. Extroverted. I was so shy that I got tongue-tied in groups. Sometimes I ducked into empty classrooms in school to avoid speaking to someone coming down the hall.<\/p>\n My shyness persisted in college. \u201cYou\u2019ll never really make it as a teacher, Aline,\u201d one professor told me. \u201cYou just don\u2019t\u2014how should I put this?\u2014bubble enough.\u201d Please, God, I\u2019m begging you, <\/em>I prayed. Help me to loosen up and learn to talk to people. Help me to not be so shy and self-conscious.<\/em><\/p>\n I managed to do all right in front of the classroom for a first-year teacher, but nothing like Elvis. He owned the stage. He looked like he was having the time of his life, swinging his hips before thousands of screaming fans.<\/p>\n How did he do it? And what about those girls in the audience? They\u2019d mob the stage, crying and wailing, vying for his attention. I daydreamed about attending one of his concerts. I looked at the newspaper headline and sighed.<\/p>\n \u201cAll right,\u201d Barb said, relenting. \u201cIf it means that much to you, let\u2019s do it.\u201d And that\u2019s how we ended up on the Vegas-bound Greyhound, aka \u201cthe Gamblers\u2019 Express.\u201d We checked into our motel and got ready.<\/p>\n Glamorous Barb had a killer wardrobe. She dressed in minutes and looked terrific. I tried on half a dozen outfits before finally settling on a short-sleeved lavender dress I had made myself.<\/p>\n We took a cab to the International Hotel. \u201cGoing to see Elvis, huh?\u201d the cabbie said.<\/p>\n \u201cYes!\u201d I said. \u201cI can hardly wait.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cWell, I\u2019ll tell you girls a secret,\u201d he said. \u201cGive the ma\u00eetre d\u2019 a tip, and he\u2019ll give you a better seat.\u201d<\/p>\n I winced. I couldn\u2019t imagine doing something so\u2026bold.<\/p>\n The ticket line wound up a long ramp overlooking a maze of slot machines. Finally we reached the theater. The doors on the right read General Admission. <\/em>The other doors were for Invited Guests Only.<\/em><\/p>\n The ma\u00eetre d\u2019 led us through the doors on the right and up to the balcony. Way up. Our seats were so far from the stage we might as well have stayed in New York! I wanted to cry. This wasn\u2019t what I had dreamed about.<\/p>\n Then I remembered our cabbie\u2019s advice. Quickly, before I could feel self-conscious, I opened my purse and pulled out a ten-dollar bill.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you have any better seats?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n The ma\u00eetre d\u2019 feigned surprise. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with these?\u201d Lord, help me out here.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re too far away. We can\u2019t see the stage.\u201d My throat was dry and my hands shook, but I looked him straight in the eye. \u201cThe theater is full, miss,\u201d he said. \u201cThis is all we have left.\u201d<\/p>\n The place was <\/em>packed. Still, that cabbie had sounded pretty sure. So I just stood there looking unhappy, the ten clutched in my fist. Please, Lord, I\u2019m trying\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n The man glanced at my money and led us back downstairs. Aha! It worked! Only the new seats were in the last row under the balcony. Still too far away.<\/p>\n \u201cNope,\u201d I said. \u201cThese won\u2019t do either.\u201d My voice sounded so confident I almost didn\u2019t recognize it.<\/p>\n The ma\u00eetre d\u2019 sighed loudly. \u201cFollow me,\u201d he said, leading us through the Invited Guests <\/em>doors. Then he marched us straight down the center aisle to a double row of linen-covered tables set perpendicular to the stage. I couldn\u2019t believe it. These were the best seats in the house!<\/p>\n I gave him the ten just as the house lights dimmed.<\/p>\n A loud drumroll, then girls screamed and Elvis walked onstage. He wore a big-collared white jumpsuit with a wide macram\u00e9 belt. A bandmate handed him a guitar, and he stepped up to the mike. He smiled that adorable crooked smile and began belting out \u201cThat\u2019s All Right (Mama).\u201d<\/p>\n My knees went weak. The hard-driving \u201cPolk Salad Annie\u201d made my heart dance, while \u201cYou\u2019ve Lost That Lovin\u2019 Feelin\u2019\u201d nearly tore it in two. This was even better than I had dreamed.<\/p>\n Fans tossed handkerchiefs and scarves for him to mop his brow with. Then Elvis announced that he was going to sing the title song from one of his movies. The orchestra struck up \u201cLove Me Tender,\u201d and girls mobbed the stage. Between bars, Elvis kissed them.<\/p>\n Barb and I stayed meekly in our seats. Suddenly Elvis was right there in front of us. Close enough to touch! Barb nudged me. \u201cStand up.\u201d<\/p>\n Did I dare?<\/p>\n