On April 27, 1977--exactly 46 years ago today-- I got a call from my friend Charlie. He was about to

head out to Louisville’s Freedom Hall where he was going to camp out overnight in what he figured

would be a very long line in order to get a ticket to an upcoming concert when the box-office opened the

next morning.  The concert would be performed by Elvis Presley, and Charlie was a big, big Elvis fan.

He was calling to ask if he should get a ticket for me.

I wasn’t the uber-fan that Charlie was, but I did love Elvis. Who didn’t love Elvis? I asked Charlie

what the ticket would cost. My memory has always told me that the price was $8, but a little research

shows me that the actual ticket prices were $10, $12, and, for Texas oilmen, $15. I know those prices

sound absurdly, even comically low, but it was 1977 after all.

Charlie was hanging on the phone waiting for my response as my mind batted it back and forth.

On the sunny side of the net, it was Elvis. A chance to see the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll live and in person.

Hard to top that. On the shadowed side, I was, as usual, flat broke. $10 might not seem like much now

and, in truth, it wasn’t exactly a fortune in ‘77, but it was big bucks to me. I was between gigs, owed

money to my girlfriend….not good. 

I wanted to go, believe me, I did. But I just couldn’t justify in my mind laying out that ten-spot.

Especially since I’d probably have to borrow it from Debby. Sometimes poverty could be really cruel. 

But I had to give Charlie an answer. So I told him, “no…no, I can’t afford it. I hate to miss it but…

oh, I’ll catch him next time.”  And that was that. 

Of course, there would be no next time. On May 21, 1977, Elvis played his second and final

Louisville engagement.(To put it in temporal context, four days later, STAR WARS premiered.) And

shortly after that I got a job and likely could have managed ten bucks but too late.

Less than three months later, Elvis was gone at 42 years of age. Charlie got to see Elvis, but now

he’s gone too. I’m still here, at least the husk of me, still wishing I’d seen The King …Debby would

have loaned me ten bucks. I was an idiot. Still am, for that matter.