with, "The Bunker Boys," even messes
with cover performances of some of your songs. Practicing, singing, and
then rejecting the outcome of most of them, clue to the difficulty of hitting
and sustaining some of the notes. It has made me appreciate, even more,
what a great singer you are."
"Well, thank you, thank you very much." he humbly answered.
"What are you going to do with all of that peanut butter," I asked.
"I have some house guests. Amelia Earhart and Glenn Miller are visiting and Jim and Jimmy are stopping by later." answered Ellvis.
"Who?" I blurted out.
"Jim Morrison and Jimmy Hoffa." he casually replied.
Not knowing what else to say, and trying not to cross the line of being
a pest, I continued down the aisle and turned down aisle 7 to pick up
some SPAM, mayo, and Vienna Sausage, the holy trinity of snowstorm cuisine.
After passing by and snubbing my nose at the Miracle Whip, I placed a few
large jars of the real deal mayo in the cart. As I stood up to return to
the helm, as captain of my cart, I saw Elvis standing right in front of
me.
"
It appears that you like mayo. As you have already seen, I'm more of a
peanut butter man. Say, are you from around these parts?" The
question startled me. His follow up enquiry set me more at ease. "Could
you also tell me a little about The Bunker Boys?"
"Sort of," I replied, thinking how nebulous that sounded. "I
play with The Bunker Boys, some of the best musicians around, at "The
Church," right
next to the railroad tracks. By the way, my name is Rico."
"Hey Rico, when the train rumbles past your studio, it probably sounds
like downtown Tupelo," he sighed and then laughed. His laughter was
contagious and I bean to laugh with him. "I recently wrote a song
about how much I miss all of my fans," he continued when the laughter
subsided. "Now,
I think I would like to record it. But, I hope that you can appreciate
this, I wish to remain out of the spotlight, remote and aloof for the time
being. Do you think that The Bunker Boys might be interested in playing
backup music for me over at your studio? I can even get a ride there."
Now, I was in a total state of shock! If there has ever been a more definable
no brainer, "yes or no" question, it is far off my
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radar screen. The first thing that popped into my mind was
the sighting of his limo in the parking lot. He would certainly arrive
at the studio in style. Then I suddenly felt that if I did not get the
proper answer immediately, a buzzer would announce the expiration of the
time limit.
"On behalf of myself," how goofy can I get, I thought, spit out
the answer, son, "and The Bunker Boys, Yes, Yes, YES!!" Then,
I began to laugh.
Elvis chuckled and said, "If you are almost finished with your shopping,
perhaps we can check out together. All that I still have to pick up is
this week's National Enquirer."
As I quickly nodded my head in an affirmative manner my confirmative verbalization
was for backup purposes only. "Let me just grab some SPAM and Vienna
sausage, and then I'm out of here." This suggestion from. Elvis fit
right in with my strict schedule to arrive home ahead of the upcoming storm.
When we reached the cash registers, Elvis beckoned me to follow him. He
placed all of his items on the conveyor belt, bagged his purchases and
handed the clerk some money. He then waved back to me and called out, "I've
got your phone number, Rico, and I will contact you."
After removing from my shopping cart, what suddenly looked like enough
supplies for a small platoon, the cashier told me that the, man who had
been in front of had given her enough money to pay for all of my groceries.
She was also thrilled to tell me that he had even left her a sizable tip. "What
a great guy!" she exclaimed.
As soon as my groceries were packed in paper or plastic bags, I was so
excited, I have forgotten my response to the young grocery clerk's mandatory
query, that never comes with a suggestion as to which material is the most
environmentally friendly, I rushed out of the store into the parking lot
in order to reach the limo and thank Elvis.
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