In honor of Elvis’ 74th birthday, I thought I’d give you a tour of our guest bathroom, known for nearly 15 years as the Elvis bathroom.
I wasn’t a huge, drooling, fawning, panty-throwing fan of Elvis. By the time I came around to liking his music, he was probably dead. Though living in the South my whole life I admit I’ve seen some folks who could have been him, but likely they were just huge, drooling, fawning fans.
But then I found this shower curtain.
I don’t know what drew me to it. Maybe Elvis possessed it? We had just moved into our trash heap of a house and decided that the hall bathroom had to be remodeled first. The shower curtain was the inspiration I needed. We have a lot of company. I couldn’t ask them to use the scary bathroom.
Instead we asked them to bathe with Elvis. We painted the walls in jailhouse stripes, to honor that horrible movie, Jailhouse Rock. (I’m not a blind fan, though I admit to liking Viva, Las Vegas.) A friend gave us a picture of Elvis in the shower. It’s actually a vinyl placemat, so it’s perfect for a bathroom. The moisture won’t hurt it.
Most visitors were happy to shower with the king. But I remember my grandmother coming out of the bathroom after her first shower saying, “I had to throw my towel over the shower curtain rod and cover that man’s face. I didn’t want Elvis seeing me naked.”
Appreciative guests inspired the only rule about the bathroom. When we began to receive Elvis things--refrigerator magnets, signs, a blanket, Christmas ornaments, a nearly life-size guitar-shaped Elvis clock—as gifts, I started to panic. I had visions of Elvis taking over the house. So the rule is Elvis stays in bathroom. It’s fittin', since that’s where he died. Well, not in our bathroom, but you know what I mean.
So, Happy Birthday to the King. Long may you reign—but only in the bathroom.