Graceland. Just the opening accordion riff floods me with memories. My love of Paul originated years ago in my best friend's aunt's car, a beat up red Chevrolet we all called "The Chevrol". It was the kind of car with the tiny seat in between the driver and the passenger that's long been illegal and sitting there was always my favourite spot. It also had a tape deck and Graceland was always playing. My best friend and her cousin and I knew all the words. Every word.
Graceland was released five years before I was born, seven years before my best friend was born and nine years before her cousin was born. In grade nine I made a friend who had grown up listening to it with her parents, and listening to her parents play and sing the songs themselves. Different memories, uniting nostalgia. I liked that.
Even if I have to travel for days, I'll be going to next year's Graceland Tour. Though The Cheverol is long gone, my best friend's family just acquired a red car - an old beater with a tape deck. A road trip to see our childhood favourite would be perfect. Maybe we'll make a detour down to Memphis, following the river down the highway through the cradle of the civil war to that mythical place where I have reason to believe we all will be received.
Dev (but you can call me Al)
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