The King

I would’ve made a rotten 1950s teenager. Given the choice between Elvis and Frankie Baby, I’d have opted for Sinatra any day of the week. For me, rock and roll began with the Beatles — and not one minute before…

I mention this because I was reading a DVD review in last Sunday’s LA Times which mentioned a segment where Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra performed together on a TV show around 1960. The assumption, as usual, was that Sinatra was uncomfortable in the presence of the new and upcoming “king of rock and roll”…

In my humble opinion, he needn’t have been. I love a lot of music from the 1950s, from Ella Fitzgerald to Frank Sinatra, and from Louis Prima to Rosemary Clooney. But you’d have to tie me down to make spend an afternoon listening to Elvis and his rockin’ and doo-woppin’ contemporaries; it’s just about as appealing as an afternoon of Christian alternative rock…

BTW, if any of you were wondering where yesterday’s salute to cannibalism came from, I found it during yet another (unsuccessful) attempt at determining just where “132 and Bush” are located…

Can anyone else offer a clue?