The year was 1973.  It was a warm summer day when we got the call from Uncle Ed and Aunt Marty.  Elvis was coming to Houston and Uncle Ed had tickets for us all.  It was like Christmas all over again.  I could hardly breath upon hearing the news from Mom and Dad that we were going to see Elvis.  Mom had barely gotten the words out before I was running outside to go tell my friends.  I was five years old.

I don't really remember how young I was when I first started listening to Elvis Presley records, yes I said records.  Mom said from the time I was old enough to talk, I would sing myself to sleep every night.  I remember getting the old white, plastic, portable record player for Christmas the year before - and more Elvis Albums.  I think I had all of the Elvis records made at the time.

The day finally came for the concert.  Uncle Ed had just bought a new camera to capture this great event on film.  It must be a gift from God, I thought.  Now I will be able to prove to my unbelieving neighborhood friends that I had actually seen Elvis in the flesh.

The concert was incredible.  Uncle Ed had also brought his binoculars, and my mom tells me that as I would look through the binoculars I would gleefully scream, "He looked at me, Momma, Elvis looked at me."

Several days went by and I would check the mailbox everyday awaiting the arrival of my proof to my friends.  Then the phone call came.  It was Aunt Marty.  She had bad news for us.  Uncle Ed had forgotten to take the lens cap off of his brand new, expensive camera. 

That was over thirty four years ago, and I'm still as dissapointed now as I was then.

So long, Elvis.  I still miss you.