43 Years After Death Elvis Never Stops Mesmerizing Fans Worldwide

In 1977, forty-three years ago on August 16th, Aunt Evie called our home and told us the news that Elvis had died.   The news was of that enormity—one had to relay it to someone else.  One had to share it with another and commiserate.

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Decades later the music still connects with new generations of fans while those of us who always knew the magic relive it on our turntables and CDs.   We know the best way to hear Elvis is with the volume, higher and higher.

Lately, I have been really enjoying the Jungle Room recordings from Graceland.  In 1976  RCA recording trailers were outside as the machinery was brought into his home and now we have these audio recordings.

 

The power and punch of Elvis come through with his concert material.  The way he controls a massive arena and makes it his own never fails to amaze me.

 

Only five years after his death I felt a sort of tightness in my chest, an anxiety that had accompanied me that entire day when I went on the radio as an announcer for the first time. I parked my marineblue Chevette in the parking lot of the small cinder block-constructed station house, got out, dusted myself off, and prepared to go inside. Upon entering the somewhat cluttered WDOR studio in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin that day, I went immediately to the record stacks. Rows and rows of vinyl records were all alphabetized according to the artists’ names and were situated behind the console where I would sit to do my job. I scanned the collection quickly and settled on a recording by ‘The King’.

I placed the record on the turntable, and spoke authoritatively to the station’s listeners, my soon-to-be friends. I informed everybody listening in radioland that Elvis, ‘The King’, would “take us to news time at the top of the hour.” The song ended. I gave the call letters for the station per the Federal Communications Commission, the FCC’s requirements, and hit the button for ABC News. I breathed a sigh of relief.

So began my years in radio.

 

 

Stephen Miller Helps Explain Nazi Movement

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Stephen Miller was captured in a tone that makes it seem he popped from a frame of  “Leni” Riefenstahl film.

If you ever wondered about the type of personality that furthered the Nazi movement, and place that pondering in modern times, there is no need to venture further than Stephen Miller. Without doubt, of all the ones in the Trump orbit, other than Trump himself, Miller is the most reprehensible and disgusting.  Vanity Fair has a must-read about the man, and what has to be the only other person alive who would agree to actually marry him.

Portions of the article are below.

In some way, Mr. and Mrs. Miller are emblematic of young Washington, circa Trump: arrogant and gleefully pugnacious. They have few close friends outside the administration. They don’t hang out much in public because they tend to get harassed. They recently traded D.C. for the more secluded Arlington, Virginia. Outside of Jared and Ivanka, and Don Jr. and Kimberly Guilfoyle, they are perhaps the city’s most powerful couple under 50. Their influence reaches beyond immigration policy into the two most pressing issues of the day: civil unrest around systemic racism, and the pandemic. He plays a key role in Trump’s messaging, decrying the removal of Confederate monuments and the threats to American “heritage.” She, as the spokesperson for the White House Coronavirus Task Force, is a poster child for its disastrously bungled response. The Millers’ respective issues dovetail in a single phenomenon: harm to immigrant communities and people of color. And given the new couple’s knack for pulling the levers of power, and the Trump administration’s control over the judicial and legislative branches, they may be with us for a long time to come.

Miller entered Duke in 2003 and seems to have tried out a new persona—Libertarian Lounge Lizard. Dorm mates recall him slinking around in a bathrobe and slippers, smoking Nat Sherman cigarettes. Because he was prematurely balding and looked older, the girls on his floor found him useful for buying alcohol. Miller obliged. “He’d put on a suit, then go to the liquor store and they wouldn’t card him,” says one of his dorm mates. Deep down, he seemed to desire female affection. He found some—as Guerrero uncovers—with a Mexican-American girl from a Texas border town, whom we’ll call Sara.

Their courtship would be rich material for a social scientist. A source close to Sara says she found him intelligent, but mainly she felt sorry for him, as he didn’t have many friends. He was not opposed to immigrants, he told her, just illegal immigrants, which is why she even gave him a chance. But he wanted more from her than she from him. Sometimes she let him in; sometimes she’d try to shake him. “She’d just say, ‘Go away, Stephen,’ in that mean-girl way,” says a friend of Sara’s who suspects she was embarrassed to be seen with him in public. But he could lash back. The friend recalls that when Sara spoke Spanish, he’d cut her off, telling her, “You should just speak English.” It went on this way for much of their freshman year, until she returned home. He called her a few times over the following summer but she never called him back, and she never returned for their sophomore year. Sara’s friends, seeing his anti-immigrant stance explode over the years, later wondered to one another, “Man, how bad did she hurt him?”

With Sara gone, Miller returned to his old passions, like hating janitors. As Guerrero reports in Hatemonger, he leaned into this particular bit, telling aghast classmates after meals to leave their messes because “we have people for that.” He found a fresh target in the Palestine Solidarity Movement, an activist group on campus. Just as he had complained about Santa Monica High on The Larry Elder Show a couple years earlier, so now he called into the show to attack Duke. Terrorists were recruiting members from campus, he claimed, and Duke was doing nothing about it. He landed a column, called Miller Time, in the school newspaper, The Chronicle, in which he set his sights on the same bogeymen: multiculturalism, affirmative action, the war on Christmas, et cetera. He invited Horowitz to speak at Duke and relished all the shouting it elicited from the audience.

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On a team filled with unpleasant people, Miller fit right in. “He was just a dick,” says a former campaign official. “Very territorial, not warm, just bleh.” The national spotlight emboldened his rhetoric. In television appearances, he delivered “fact”-filled diatribes in an air-hogging monotone. He made outrageous claims, like that immigration would lead to mass female genital mutilation. He worked similarly vivid bombast into Trump’s speeches—about immigrants who “stomp on their victims,” “slash them with machetes”—and into his own warm-up act, which he performed before the crowds at rallies.

At one such event in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, where the Glosser branch of his family is from, Miller talked about the town’s former glory, and invoked the names of his relatives, Izzy and Sam. David Glosser, hearing the names of his beloved father and grandfather used in connection to Stephen’s vitriol, could stay silent no longer. He posted on the Johnstown newspaper’s Facebook page: “If in the early 20th Century, the USA had built a wall against poor, desperate immigrants of a different religion, like the Glossers, all of us would have gone up the crematoria chimneys with the six million other kinsmen.” Glosser says he received an “avalanche of support” from Glossers everywhere, even ones he’d never heard of. Alas, Stephen’s mother, Miriam, “wasn’t enthusiastic about [the post], to say the least,” says Glosser.

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These may be the Millers’ final days this close to the sun. But for some of his family members, even a Trump defeat won’t end the nightmare. “I personally believe that he should be tried for crimes against humanity,” says Patti Glosser of her young relative. Katie could easily find herself at a place like Fox, a new Irena Briganti. Stephen will likely find a role at a far-right think tank or a Breitbart-like corner of the web. The worry among his relatives is that Stephen has laid the groundwork for longevity. “When he’s in his 60s or 70s or even sooner, we could go through this all over again,” fears Patti. “Will we become a kinder, gentler nation, or will we continue on the path that we are?”