A Little Thing Called Life

by Linda Thompson

  “Come here, honey, give me some love,” he said, talking like a full-on hillbilly. “Give ol’ toothless Elvis some sugar. I like being toothless. I want to see if you really love me. If you love me looking like this.”

  There was no question—I did. He made a face that showed off his gap in a quite dramatic fashion, and of course, I started laughing again. He could be wonderfully self-deprecating, especially for such a huge star.

  We enjoyed a lot of alone time in that bedroom. He always wanted me with him, and he often sequestered himself there, with the door closed and nobody allowed up there without ringing first. Nobody, and I mean nobody, came in without Elvis’s permission.

  This was true even with meals. When Elvis would ask one of the four housekeepers to prepare us some food, after a little while, the phone would ring.

  “Is it okay if Lottie brings your food up now?” one of the guys would ask.

  Lottie, Pauline, Mary, and Nancy were the four housekeepers. They had all been there for many years, and along with the guys, who were always wandering in and out of the house, and Elvis’s family members who lived at Graceland—Aunt Delta and Dodger—they were constants. They were wonderful, and I loved them all and still think of them fondly. Those four women all had families outside the house, but they devoted a lot of time to Elvis, and they kept the household going. Mary was the cook, and she kind of tiptoed around Elvis. Lottie was the fiery one, who would kind of speak her mind. Pauline was the really quiet one who had a lot of kids. One time I saw her vacuuming, and she was asleep standing up, that’s how tired she was. God bless her. Nancy was kind of the comical one, and sweet. They all had designated areas to care for, and Nancy cleaned my dressing area, so she was probably the one I was the closest to. I still get a Christmas card from her every year—she’s the last living housekeeper of Elvis’s Graceland.

  We spent much of that fall at Graceland, settling into our domestic rhythm and learning what life was like away from the lights of Vegas and L.A. Before we knew it, Christmas was upon us, and as I soon discovered, Christmas was a magical experience at Graceland.

  One of the most beautiful aspects about Elvis was how deeply he enjoyed Christmas. It was his favorite time of year, and his passion for Christmas went back to his memories from when he was a little kid. Even though they’d had nothing, his mom and dad loved Christmas, too, and they always made it special for him. He loved the religious significance of the birth of Christ, which brought with it new hope for the world, and a communal aspiration toward a higher good. He loved the lights, so he decorated Graceland beautifully, inside and out, a tradition that continues today.

  And then there was the music. He recorded several Christmas carols over the years, including “If Every Day Were Like Christmas,” which Red West wrote. Little did I know back then that I’d go on to write the song “Grownup Christmas List,” which has become something of a Christmas classic. And I can’t help but wish that I’d written it many, many years ago, so that Elvis could have recorded it, because I know it’s a song he would have really loved. Although phenomenal singers like Barbra Streisand, Natalie Cole, Kelly Clarkson, Michael Bublé, and many others have recorded my song, Elvis could have brought every word to life with his magical vocals.

  But more than the memories or the music, Elvis relished the giving. Those who were close to him used to even jokingly call him Santa Claus, because there was no one who embodied the spirit of St. Nick quite like he did, or who derived more joy from giving. During his lifetime, Elvis gave away nearly everything he had, and when he died he had very little left. It wasn’t something he did for show, either. He really derived great pleasure from his generosity. Generous to a fault, he loved to lavish gifts on people that he cared for, going so far as to send out spies with special instructions: “Find out what she wants. Find out what he wants.” Before there was Oprah giving to her studio audience, there was Elvis buying everyone a new car at Christmas and throughout the year. Some years, Elvis would think: Everybody needs a new car. Let’s just buy everybody a new car. He bought his cook Mary a new house. One time while he was looking at cars at a Cadillac dealership, he bought a new car for an African-American woman and her college-age daughter who happened to there, dreaming of owning a Cadillac. That’s just how he was.

  What he didn’t like was when people blatantly, and with an attitude of entitlement, asked him for something. Giving was a natural expression of his spirit of goodness and generosity but never because people expected it of him. He felt that expectation diminished the joy intrinsic in the act of giving. One of his phrases to live by was that of the Christmas spirit: “There is greater joy derived from the act of giving than that of receiving.”

  Our first Christmas we were together Elvis bought me a beautiful, floorlength muskrat coat that looked like mink and had a big fox hood. From the knee down, it was red fox, which zipped off, so you could make it into a three-quarter-length coat with a fox stole. It was the first fur I’d ever owned, and as Elvis stood eagerly watching my reaction. I pulled the coat tight around me and did a spin, and then I put my hands in the pockets, testing the fit. As I did, Elvis’s eyes began to sparkle in that mischievous way I’d come to know so well.

  In both pockets, my hands brushed against smaller gifts, and I pulled them out to examine them. In one pocket was $2,500 in hundred-dollar bills (which allowed me to get him as a gift whatever I could afford with it). In the other pocket was a beautiful ballerina diamond ring set in platinum.

  “Honey, one day this will be our engagement ring,” he said. “For right now, you can wear it on any finger you want. We won’t be officially engaged right now, but one day we’ll make the announcement, and this will be your beautiful engagement ring.”

  He’d designed it himself and had it made for me, taking the center stone, which was about six carats, from one of his rings, so that it would be a part of him, and put it in the center of my ring. Then he had it surrounded by round-cut diamonds, which were then encircled by baguettes, and it was all mounted up high, which was why it was called a ballerina ring.

  “Thank you,” I said, recovering enough to kiss him. “I love it.”

  Although he wasn’t officially divorced yet, in those days he talked often about marrying me. Of course, I was up for it. I loved him. I’d made love to him. I lived with him. He already felt like my husband. And now, I had my pre-engagement ring as a symbol of all that we felt for each other and all we’d already shared. And we were only just beginning.

  “Grown-Up Christmas List”

  Do you remember me?

  I sat upon your knee

  I wrote to you

  With childhood fantasies

  Well I’m all grown up now

  Can you still help somehow?

  I’m not a child

  But my heart still can dream

  So here’s my lifelong wish

  My grown-up Christmas list

  Not for myself, but for a world in need

  No more lives torn apart

  That wars would never start

  And time would heal all hearts

  Every man would have a friend

  And right would always win

  And love would never end

  This is my grown-up Christmas list

  What is this illusion called

  The innocence of youth

  Maybe only in that blind belief

  Can we ever find the truth

  No more lives torn apart

  And wars would never start

  And time would heal all hearts

  Every man would have a friend

  And right would always win

  And love would never end

  This is my grown-up Christmas list

  This is my only lifelong wish

  This is my grown-up Christmas list

  LYRIC: LINDA THOMPSON

  Chapter Six

  TCB with TLC

  When we are under the influence of new love’s first blush, we tend to pu
t our best self forward as much as possible. Looking back with the full knowledge of what was to come, I now understand that Elvis was probably at his healthiest and most conscientious during the first year of our romance.

  This was perhaps clearest during the run-up to the taping of his Aloha from Hawaii via Satellite special, scheduled for January 14, 1973. He very much wanted to be his best self for his fans. The previous November, we had gone to Hawaii to do some preparation for the production, and after our idyllic first Christmas together back at Graceland, Elvis went back into show preparation mode. He wanted to look and feel his finest, ideally at what he considered his fighting weight of about 160 pounds. And so he went on an extreme diet in the two weeks before we flew to Hawaii to tape the special, only allowing himself 500 calories per day, with all of his food delivered to him in precise, prepackaged quantities. Although he had a tendency to indulge his every whim the rest of the time, when he put his mind and his heart to a task, he could be incredibly disciplined, as was the case now. He didn’t cheat at all—none of his beloved meat loaf, mashed potatoes, crowder peas, or “iddytream.” When he was watching his weight, if he craved a snack, he would have an apple and butter butch (buttermilk), or his favorite—honeydew melon—or the sugar-free Jell-O we’d make special for him.

  Sticking to his diet with complete focus, he lost between eight and ten pounds in early January. If he’d been looking sexy and handsome when I met him six months earlier, he was a sculpted God now. In retrospect, having learned so much about nutrition and fitness during my marriage to a former decathlete, I’m amazed Elvis had the stamina to put on such a demanding show, given how few calories he was consuming at the time. But of course, singing and performing was what Elvis was born to do, and so he was ready when it was time for him to shine his brightest.

  There was a mood of excitement as we landed in Hawaii in the days before the concert and prepared the show’s final touches. This was to be the first-ever satellite television broadcast, and the first use of a split screen on a television show. The production had a $2.5 million budget, which was the most expensive such special at that time, and it would ultimately go out to an estimated 1 to 1.5 billion fans in more than forty countries around the globe. No doubt most of them would otherwise never have been able to see him perform.

  With such an ambitious undertaking and sense of obligation to his fans, Elvis put a great deal of pressure on himself to give the performance of a lifetime. He wanted to look perfect, sound perfect, put on a perfect show, and not disappoint anyone involved or anyone watching at home. In the days before the show, there was plenty of tension, but we were also having a wonderful time. Elvis loved Hawaii more than anywhere else in the world that he’d been. And so he took great pleasure in the fact that he was in his favorite place, doing what he most loved—I’d go so far as to say his spirit was rather Zen leading up to that enormous concert.

  On the big day, I sat in the audience. By this point in our relationship, I had seen Elvis perform dozens of times, but this was clearly different. I knew what this opportunity meant to my Elvis, my little Buntyn. He looked stunning in his white American eagle jumpsuit, and the dramatic white cape, which he so famously threw into the audience at the end of the show. All of his dieting and careful living had paid off in an amazing show for fans the world over. Of course, he delivered, and then some.

  During the months since I’d met her, I had spent quite a bit of time with Lisa Marie, including a wonderful experience of playing Santa Claus to her for the first time when she came to Graceland during the Christmas holidays. After the Hawaii special, we returned to Las Vegas for Elvis’s next run of appearances, but equally important was the celebration of Lisa Marie’s fifth birthday on February 1.

  This birthday party would be held in a style benefiting the King’s pride, but would be only the second time I’d meet Priscilla. Though the perception has been that we all were very close during the years following their divorce, that wasn’t exactly the case. When it was time for Lisa Marie to visit us, the bodyguards traveled with her between her mom’s home and wherever Elvis and I were staying at the time. I simply didn’t have that much exposure to Priscilla, and I didn’t know her very well.

  My first encounter with Priscilla had been the previous fall, not long after I’d had my initial meeting with Lisa Marie by the pool at the Monovale Drive house. During this same stay in Los Angeles, Lisa Marie had a parents’ conference at her school that was supposed to be attended by both parents. Elvis wanted me to accompany him but wait in the car, and so I agreed. It was then that Elvis told me I might meet Priscilla. And while Elvis had never felt the need to prep me for my time with Lisa Marie, he had a few instructional words for me before we interacted with Priscilla.

  “Honey, do me a favor,” he said. “You’re probably going to meet Priscilla. Don’t wear all the rings and other jewelry I’ve given you because I never gave Priscilla that much jewelry. I gave her things, sure, but not nearly like I’ve showered you with gifts. I don’t want to make her feel bad.”

  As we spoke, I looked down at my fingers—well, at least what I could see of them, because they were covered in gold and jewels. Hmmm, I get his point, I thought. Because Elvis always used to admonish me to wear the jewelry he gave me, I often wore several diamond rings at once, much to his delight. But the last thing I would have wanted was to upset her.

  On that particular day, I again found myself in the limousine with the fox fur floorboards, but this time I wasn’t just a college girl going to meet her destiny. I knew I might meet Priscilla, so I’d been sure to dress nicely, carefully choosing my outfit for the occasion, a white jersey dress. And I was judicious about showing restraint in my accessories, as he’d requested, wearing only one ring, not wanting to create any discord for him or hurt anyone else’s feelings.

  When we arrived at Lisa Marie’s school, Elvis gave me a hug and a kiss, and then he climbed out of the limo and went inside the school to attend Lisa Marie’s parent-teacher conference. God bless him, he was a good daddy. The meeting didn’t last long, and he soon returned to the car, this time with Priscilla walking beside him.

  “Priscilla wanted to meet you,” he said.

  “It’s very nice to meet you,” she said to me.

  “And I’m so happy to meet you as well,” I answered.

  “I know you’ll be around Lisa, so I just wanted to say it’s nice to meet you and thank you for looking out for her,” she said.

  I appreciated the level of cordiality we were able to create between all of us. I wanted her to feel comfortable and confident I would be a good influence on her little girl.

  Because I absolutely adored Lisa, I was thrilled a few months later to find myself cohosting her birthday party in our suite at the Las Vegas Hilton. It had been Priscilla’s idea to celebrate Lisa Marie’s birthday in Las Vegas, but when Elvis had spoken to me in advance to make sure I was okay with this arrangement, I’d been happy to help create a dream birthday for her. I was always respectful of their coparenting relationship and did everything in my power to support his special bond with Lisa Marie.

  Even this early on, I felt quite comfortable in my role as Elvis’s partner because we were nearly inseparable. And he made me feel very much like the lady of the house, no matter where we were staying. So I was at ease on this particular evening as I welcomed guests to our suite for the celebration. I could tell a few people were looking at us a bit askance; this was an era when divorce was not nearly as common as it is now. Some people present seemed to find it slightly unusual that Elvis had his new girlfriend and his ex-wife in the same room. (Situations like this, of course, have pretty much become the norm today.)

  I didn’t care what anyone thought; I just focused on doing my best to take care of Lisa Marie and Elvis while making everyone else feel as relaxed as possible. We had food, and birthday cake, and spent several hours commemorating Lisa Marie’s special day. Besides being the evening’s hostess, and making sure Priscilla had eve
rything she needed to enjoy herself, I didn’t spend much time with her. And that was probably the most time I ever spent with her during my years with Elvis.

  However, I did have at least one amusingly awkward experience you’d have to file under the category of “children say the darnedest things.” During Lisa Marie’s stay with us in Las Vegas, I gave her a beautiful blue satin dress and matching cape that I’d had Suzy Creamcheese make especially for her.

  “I got you a cape like your daddy might wear,” I said when I gave it to Lisa Marie.

  She loved this thought, and her gift, and she wanted to try it on right away. We went into my dressing area together to get her changed, and she stood there, as proud and as cute as could be, looking at her reflection in the mirror while fixing her shiny little cape.

  “I look pretty in this, don’t I?” She preened and posed, gazing at her adorable reflection.

  “Yes! You do indeed,” I enthusiastically agreed.

  “My mommy doesn’t like you very much,” she said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, striving to keep my cool so Lisa Marie would always feel safe knowing she could say anything to me. “I’m not sure why.”

  “Well, my mommy says it’s because when she was married to my daddy, he didn’t take her anywhere, but my daddy takes you everywhere. You are always with my daddy, and my mommy never got to be with my daddy. So that’s why.”

  “Oh, well, I understand that,” I said. “I’m sure that would hurt my feelings, too. I’m really glad that your daddy does want me to go everywhere with him because I want to be here to take good care of your daddy, and make sure he’s happy. But I understand how your mommy feels. I like your mommy, and hopefully her feelings will smooth out a little.”