Carrie And Me: A Mother-Daughter Love Story Part 12

From: Carrie

To: Mama

Sent: Jan. 7, 2001

I don't apologize for it, either! Cynicism bores the h.e.l.l out of me! Thanks, Mama.

Now, guess what? Today I got a chance to do something that I'll bet not too many people in this whole wide world have ever done. I rode in an elevator with five ducks. Yep, that's right.

The Peabody is known for its "Famous Ducks," which swim in the fountain in the middle of the lobby daily from eleven a.m. 'til five p.m., when they return to their penthouse apartment on the roof of the building. When the bellman was telling me about them, I got so excited that he asked if I wanted to accompany them. Turns out he's also the duck master, complete with a duck stick. Well naturally I began thinking what on earth does one WEAR to walk around with ducks?

I threw my fuchsia boa on over my outfit and came down to the lobby a few minutes before five. Caitlin, the bellman, had his "duck stick" at the ready and told me it would be about six more minutes. The lobby was PACKED with people and their cameras waiting to see the daily march of the ducks. The center elevator was open, a red carpet laid out, and steps led down from the fountain. One beautiful mallard and four brown ducks were swimming around in this very nice fountain crowned by a humongous bouquet of exotic flowers.

Really.

At five exactly, the clock in the lobby chimed, and I kid you not, the ducks (all on their own) exited the fountain, stood on the ledge, and shook themselves off. Then some very grand marching music began and a voice announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, the march of the ducks!" And without any help from the duck stick, the little b.u.g.g.e.rs waddled down the steps from the fountain and paraded down the red carpet. People were taking pictures from all angles, and no lie, the friggin' ducks would look left then right and pose for the cameras! Julia Roberts couldn't have done it better.

Honest, Mama, I'm not kidding! AND I got to walk behind them (like some kind of publicist) and stand in the elevator while everyone got their last snapshots in. The mallard posed one last time, the doors closed, and whammo. It was just us ... chickens. The hotel roof is vast and looks out over the Mississippi and the bridge. The ducks live in a duck-sized replica of the hotel, which includes a smaller version of the fountain, all laid out on AstroTurf. It was all too much. I was laughing the whole time.

I can't believe it's already nine-thirty. I should get some food in me and try to relax. I'm so excited, but I really don't want to go out tonight. I've already written several more pages, and I'd like to add a few more before I send them off to you.

GRACELAND tomorrow! Wow. I'll bid you adieu for now and I hope you're doing fine. I love you. You know that, don't you?

C

From: Mama

To: Carrie

Sent: Jan. 7, 2001

I'm having a swell time picturing you in your boa strutting alongside Donald and Daffy!

From: Carrie

To: Mama

Sent: Jan. 8, 2001

Today I've reached Kate and the cowboy's final goal. GRACELAND!!!

Mama, you'd get such a kick out of this place. Graceland is a cash cow not to be believed. Being a proud member of AAA I got a $1.60 discount on my admission to the mansion tour and was quickly herded onto the van, given a set of earphones for an audio tour, and shuttled up to the house.

The Christmas decorations are still up, including a HUGE manger, complete with baby Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the three wise men, etc. In 1957 Graceland was bought along with the thirteen acres surrounding it by Elvis for $100,000 cash. They probably make that in a couple of days there now. There are visitors everywhere. I heard one woman say the tour reminded her of the Sistine Chapel. Hmmm.

I am a lousy tourist. This I know. I'm more interested in people and music and food than I am in museums and buildings, but Graceland did get to me in many ways. First off, the DeCOR! Elvis sure did live that rock and roll legend lifestyle to the hilt, and for that I applaud him. No one today has the b.a.l.l.s except maybe Puff Daddy.

The mix of '50s and '70s styles was great, and naturally I was taken most with the '70s stuff-the jungle room in particular with its fake fur and carved wood furnis.h.i.+ngs, complete with green s.h.a.g carpet on the floor AND the ceiling! Also, the yellow and navy blue bas.e.m.e.nt bar was great. One bedroom had a round, white fake fur bed complete with a half dome canopy also made out of white fur that had a built-in stereo. NOW THAT'S A BED!

Besides the wild furnis.h.i.+ngs I was most impressed with all the gold and platinum records, and various awards. There's a hallway lined with them. Takes your breath away when you realize the scope of his success, of how he really did change a generation, scaring the bejesus out of parents everywhere, just like the Beatles, the Stones, and many bands to come. That's why I laugh when people freak on Marilyn Manson and the like. It's just Elvis with contact lenses (and not nearly as much talent), but the fear of the older generation (which we are all fast becoming!) is the same. Rap music, anyone?

I became aware of Elvis when he was on the decline, so I have no real memory of him in his heyday. Baby sister Erin was a school chum of Lisa's in grade school, remember? And Erin actually ate Cocoa Puffs with the King! I know Lisa Marie has had to bear quite a burden being the only daughter of our greatest pop icon. She can't go anywhere without people knowing who she is and having preconceived notions about her. I think that's sad. I pray that she is happy. I b.u.mped into her in L.A. several months ago and we had the grooviest conversation. She is tremendously poised, funny, and sharp as a tack. I like her.

On the way back to the main gate in the van, I saw graffiti ALL over the bricks and stone of the gateposts and walls. I found that at once tragic and lovely, like so many things I see. People love Elvis so much; he touched so many lives, and yet to vandalize the home he lived in seems very odd to me, but I suppose these people feel that they have a right to have some kind of direct contact with their icon. You met him, didn't you?

From: Mama

To: Carrie

Sent: Jan. 8, 2001

Yep. Sure did, in 1958. It was during my second appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show. Elvis had just joined the army, and the Sullivan show mounted this humongous musical salute to him. The audience was packed with teenage girls and their screams drowned out the huge marching band that was part of the spectacle. Then Elvis came on, did his thing, and the place went nuts.

I don't know why, but maybe they put him on first because he had to get back to the base or something, because it was a live show. But for some insane reason, they scheduled your mama here, to follow ... The King!? OMIG.o.d!!

I would like to tell you that my little nightclub routine "killed," but au contraire, the people in the audience just sat there and stared at me. They looked like a friggin' oil painting! The rest of the hour was one big dud. HOWEVER, I'm happy to report that, before the show, I was able to get Elvis's autograph, and he was very sweet.

From: Carrie