The Accidental Tourist - Part II

The "Un" Real Texas By Steve Bussiere, humorist

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Memphis is a wonderful city. Graceland, Bar-B-Q ribs, delta blues, and now the accidental tourist. It may get better than that, but I doubt it.

I've never visited Graceland before, so it seemed like a good idea. So in the middle of the night I wandered around the grounds, soaking in the ambiance of everything. I started hearing strange sounds, which was a little disconcerting for an accidental tourist, who was probably trespassing on sacred ground.

I felt the hand on my shoulder and shrieked in terror. Turning to my left, (hey, NASCAR is big there), I looked at the stone faced security guard. "What do you think you're doing here pal?" he asked me. "Well, I saw the place as I was driving, so I thought it was a rest stop. Y'all have the nicest rest stops this side of Texas."

"This isn't a rest stop bozo. This is "Graceland." The home of The King."

"Yeah, I heard that somewhere. But the King is dead. Long live the Queen."

"There aren't any Queens in Graceland buddy!" he replied.

"Thank God for that. But this place is still pretty freaky, to tell you the truth."

"What are you so shook up about? Other than being a trespasser?" he continued.

"Well, for one thing, you snuck up on me."

"Well, you snuck in here yourself, pal. So don't point fingers."

"Well, then, there's the weird noises I've been hearing too."

His face contorted in the moonlight. "What weird noises?" he asked. And he stepped back, tentatively.

"You mean you don't hear it?" I asked

"Hear what?"

"I don't know. It's kinda like when you played the Beatles song backward. But it sounds like, Hound Dog, in a strange sort of way. But like it's playing backwards or something."

The guard smiled. He put his arm around my shoulder and turned me back toward my car.

Then he pointed over toward the grave site, and said softly, "Oh, don't worry about that son. That's just Elvis." And he smiled knowingly.

"No kidding?" I said.

He started walking me back towards my car.

"Yeah. He's decomposing now."

"Well, pardon me." I said, "I think I'd better find a place to get some sleep."

"Be safe son." He said to me.

And off I drove, to find a place to sleep for the night.

After I found a room, I got onto the computer. Bob was there, so I recounted the whole "Graceland" thing to him. "Did you see Elvis" he questioned.

"Nope, but I heard him." "What did he sound like?" Bob wanted to know. "Muffled, I guess. Kind of down to earth though." I replied. "Rare earth, huh?" he said. "Yup, down and dirty."

"So what's next?" Bob wanted to know.

"Not sure, been thinking about Flint, Michigan for some danged reason."

"What's in Flint, Michigan?"

"I don't know. So I'm going to find out." I said.

"Well you know what the difference between Flint, Michigan and blue cheese is dontcha?" Bob kept on.

"Nope. What's the difference. I mean they both smell, I know that." I countered.

"Blue cheese has culture Steve."

"Look Bob, that's not a very nice thing to say about a place you've never even seen before. Besides, I'm not looking for culture."

"Well then, what exactly are you looking for Steve?"

"Don't know. But I will when I find it, I think."

"I sure hope so Steve. Otherwise you'll be lost forever. What the heck prompted all of this?"

"I'm not really sure. The lottery I think. Or maybe the sixties."

"Forget the lottery Steve. Just c'mon back to Texas."

"I can't do that yet Bob. Gotta find what I'm looking for, first. Then I'll be back. Priorities, Bob."

"So Flint, Michigan is a priority? … You may want to rethink that one buddy."

"Maybe so." I replied. I'll let you know."

"Well watch out for lightning Steve."

"You know I will, Bob. What's the Mega Millions worth on Tuesday?"

"More than you'd ever be able to spend in Flint, Michigan."

"Well, that's a start, anyway."

"Are there any cute women in Flint, Michigan Steve."

"Not sure, I'll let you know, Bob. But I have to go. Need to get some sleep."

"Ok, Steve. I really believe that. And I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for."

"Thanks, Bob. I'll let you know, but I kind of have a strange feeling it might end up being the road out of Flint, Michigan."

"Ya think?"

"Yeah, they had a contest on the radio, and first prize was a weekend in Flint, Michigan."

"Really? What was the second prize?" Bob wondered.

"Two weekends in Flint, Michigan."

"Be afraid Steve. Be very, very afraid! .. Oh, and if you're driving, … don't forget your vehicle."