I tried to look this up in a dreams interpreted book, but didn’t have any luck looking under “elvis”, “billy”, “wayne”, “davis”, or “super duper motherfucking famous”.
Big picture, I feel like I must be on the right path.. dreams like this means things are improving every day. Just two days ago I was looking up “kidnapped and gang raped in mexico” (no lie), which reminded me of why I stopped trying to look up interpretations for dreams. I don’t claim to have any sort of insight into anything, but you probably don’t need a book to tell you that dreaming you’re being kidnapped and gang raped in mexico means really bad, fucked up shit. I’m thrilled that instead, I’m dreaming about Billy Wayne Davis singing “Clambake”.
If, because of this dream, Billy Wayne Davis records all of the songs Elvis did and becomes Super Duper Motherfucking Famous.. all I ask is that I can be his modern day Colonel Tom Parker. Not the whole “give me piggy back rides around Memphis in search of the best pork ribs” gig, but the much more lucrative “50% of everything on a handshake / exploit you like you’re being gang raped in Mexico for the rest of your life” deal. That would be fantastic.
I’ve spent a lot of time in Memphis since 2004 – doing shows and what not.. but I hadn’t been to Graceland until Elvis week 2007. I was passing thru town anyway so I thought “what the super duper motherfucking hell” and stopped in to see what all the hoopla was about. Long story truncated, I didn’t get past the front gate. Turns out they’ve got security and they don’t like a smartass in a rhinestone jumpsuit singing “Roustabout”.
No, no. no.. I didn’t go in because I’m cheap as shit and I can’t stand guided tours. Plus, I think I got all I needed from that sidewalk in front of the house. I don’t know what Elvis’ estates’ policy on vandalism is, but they really should sandblast that wall and clean it up a little. A lot of that graffiti is just embarrassing.
First of all, you see a lot of messages written directly to The King, which is weird. It’s not “I love Elvis!” it’s “Elvis, I love you!” Like he ever saw that side of the wall even when he was living. Secondly, an alarming number of messages try to work song titles in: “Elvis, you old Hound Dog, I’m All Shook Up And I Love You So.” Is that really worth carving into stone? I’m not sure.
Regardless, I didn’t want to be disrespectful or buck tradition, so I pulled out a Bowie knife I stole from Shop At Home ten years ago and carved “Elvis: Tickle Me! Do The Clam! -Your Pal, Chad Motherfucking Riden” and went on my way. I realize Elvis is in Jamaica, chillin’ with Jim Morrison, Tupac, Steve Gutenberg, and the cast of The Facts of Life, but I hope next time he’s walking past Graceland he takes a gander over at my special message to him and decides to appear to Billy Wayne Davis in a vision and encourage him to get his honkey tonk ass into the studio.