Thanks for nothing, Butcher. Though he says he still has it, so I guess technically we are sharing the cold. Mom and dad would be so proud.
Beth and I were talking over on Twitter about our belief that Wynonna Judd is Elvis’s love child. And it got me wondering. I that, when I was a kid, there were a series of stories in the tabloids about people who claimed they were secretly Elvis’s love children. What ever happened to them?
At the least, I wonder if they’ve all compared their DNA to each other. Finding out that some of them were siblings would be interesting.
Or was that just a thing while people were grieving the loss of Elvis and became less of an issue the more real his death became?
I guess I’m as curious about how “My mom told me I am Elvis’s kid” functions as a story not just as a matter of fact.
Politics was so much more entertaining back in the day. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good “let’s make fun of all the people who are descended from Indian princesses” bout as much as the next person. But I do think there’s something about this dynamic I just don’t get. Indian killers with Indian children. How was that circle squared for them, exactly? I mean, even Jackson had Lyncoya.
I understand this period mostly by understanding it as a series of assaults by “us” against a well-defined “them.” But I get the feeling the boundaries were much fuzzier.