tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15254331.post6170090605506261560..comments2024-03-28T03:14:14.607-04:00Comments on Shorty PJs: So, where were you August 16, 1977?MaryBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02412656596874731198noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15254331.post-20306319027895902752007-08-17T12:23:00.000-04:002007-08-17T12:23:00.000-04:00Geez, PtO - you win the story contest, hands down!...Geez, PtO - you win the story contest, hands down! I can only imagine what you were thinking and feeling in the in-between time. <BR/><BR/>Joy, I know people who still get misty about Elvis. I was just never a fan of any rock-and-roller or group. (Though I, myself, am - of course - a rock-and-roller!)<BR/><BR/>PT - so, yeah. No relief for you on the Elvis music. Sorry!MaryBhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02412656596874731198noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15254331.post-87965966591607227312007-08-17T12:10:00.000-04:002007-08-17T12:10:00.000-04:00I was on a TWA flight between Boston and LA, a sui...I was on a TWA flight between Boston and LA, a suitcase full of demo tapes that I had just produced, of a band I had found in Boston. They announced the death over the airplane intercom, but it meant nothing next to the news I thought I just had. My girlfriend had driven me to the airport, and given me a card which she said I shoundn't open until the plane took off. When I did, there was a card with a stork carrying a baby with a congratulatory note inside. This became a moment of hullucination for me, although she had meant my "project" as the baby, I thought she meant she was pregnant. I was literally insane with happiness (I am not sure I have ever been so happy since). I landed in LA around 2am, took a cab to the hotel in Westwood, only to find that somehow my reservation had been lost, and there wasn't a room for miles (a convention?). So I sat up all night in the "Ship's" coffee shop. writing page after page of a letter about our future life together, and the baby. The sun was coming up when it was late enough to call the east coast politely (an expecting mother needs her sleep), but I woke her anyway. Poor young women, she had a madman on the end of the line who had made plans for the next fifty years, and all she could seem to bleat out was the news about Elvis. It took me a few days for my mind to slowly grasp the reality (I was literally insane for a few days). We broke up soon thereafter. Jr. would be 29. Uh-huh-huh, I was all shook up!Peter (the other)https://www.blogger.com/profile/13566863953900423495noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15254331.post-5080657590605732242007-08-17T04:40:00.000-04:002007-08-17T04:40:00.000-04:00I was at a Boy's Brigade camp on the Isle of Wight...I was at a Boy's Brigade camp on the Isle of Wight.<BR/><BR/>The news was buzzing around and was the only thing that people seemed to talk about.<BR/><BR/>However, as a (nearly) 11 year old, all I thought was "oh, good, rubbish old rock'n'roller is gone. We won't have to listen to his records again".<BR/><BR/>How wrong was I?petercmoorehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17366331102790168465noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15254331.post-74884369864788913182007-08-16T22:16:00.000-04:002007-08-16T22:16:00.000-04:00I was preparing to move into the house I live in n...I was preparing to move into the house I live in now....but it didn't stop me from crying my eyes out over Elvis's death. I was a big fan as a kid and as an adult. What a day that was. ~JoyAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com