Yes, as in also.

Trust me on this . . . 5 bucks and a 6-pack of Coca-cola gets you a lifetime membership. Oh, and the stain, ask about the stain. Make sure you see Elvis’ report card from where he failed Music class. Holly Springs, Mississippi – Graceland Too . . . if you are ever remotely near Memphis, you have to go . . . and preferably with a whiskey buzz.

This Temple dedicated to The King is open 24/7 and is known 100% by word of mouth. We rode up to the mansion built in 1853, turned all-time #1 Elvis Fan shrine, all excited and between the four of us we had two cases of Coca-cola. With it’s rows of barbed wired cement lions covered in white rope lights, the place did indeed look strange enough to be the final destination for our goofy pilgrimage . . . We knocked on the duck-taped door. No one at home. So, we decided he must’ve walked down to the Piggly Wiggly for groceries and that if we waited around awhile, he’d be back around nightfall.

We went up to the square and found a little diner. When we asked the waitress about Graceland Too, she just smiled and said in her Southern motherly voice, “Well, now, ya’ll will have a good time, no doubt. I mean, I’ve never been myself, but I cannot guarantee that every little thang that comes out of his mouth is the truth . . . He’ll be back prob’ly after ya’ll have time to eat dinner. I bet he walked down to the Piggly Wiggly.”

Two elderly ladies with canes came up to our table and said, “We saw ya’ll standing outside of Graceland Too. Neither of us has ever been, but he sure is an interesting fella. You’ll have a good time.”

We went back, just as a carload of frat boys pulled up too. This time he opened the door. Every surface of every wall and ceiling are covered with some sort of Elvis picture or printed out comment from people who’ve visited. He tells lots of tall tales, but I can’t remember most of them because I was so fixated on his floppy false teeth slipping around in his mouth. I do remember that he named his own son Elvis Aaron Presley McLeod and is absolutely convinced that Elvis and his son Elvis look 100% alike. He sang for us, told lots of stories and after the first room, we were all openly cracking up at him, not with him – but the best part is, he doesn’t care!

He’s a dirty old man and says that Cokes make him horny. He has a pink Cadillac and lots of other strange items, like a fake electric chair and fake ball and chain props made with black spray-painted basketballs. He talks about raking in the money and shows pictures of a rake and alot of money (I saw 1’s and 5’s in with those 100’s) taken from his front porch. Most All of the stories he tells are about himself, but it’s a trippy little delight.

I think Elvis would be proud . . . and really that’s all that matters. And don’t forget to ask about the stain.