I admit it. I’m drawn to Elvis on velvet paintings for reasons that are unexplainable to others and mysterious even to me. I am a product of mid century, middle class America with all its brash audacity, materialism and obsession with youth, celebrity and pop culture. A conversation with a friend led me down memory lane and reflections on Elvis on velvet, among other things.  “Elvis on Velvet” was actually the name of our band at one time – and was always my personal favorite! I had a magnificent Elvis on velvet painting with the cheesiest frame imaginable that I’d lean up against my amp when we played out. It depicted Elvis with a single tear dripping down one cheek as he hunched over the microphone. I liked to imagine that he was singing “In the Ghetto.” The other people in the band eventually voted it down because they didn’t want people to think we were Elvis impersonators or an Elvis tribute band when, in fact, we played no Elvis whatsoever. It wasn’t that we disrespected The King’s status as an icon of popular American culture or the contribution he made to rock and roll. We were just moving in a different direction. The band played under a number of other dubious monikers including: “The Dead Salesmen”, “Watching Dave Work”, “Instant Jesus”, “Liquid Jesus”, “Night Soil”, “The Channel Cats”, “The Underdogs”, “Spark Doggy” and “All Thumbs Buddha” before settling on “Regular Genius” which stuck for 10 years and 2 CDs.  I also had an Elvis lamp that should be in the Smithsonian. It totally rivaled the leg lamp Darren McGavin won as a “major prize” in the Christmas Story. I was finally persuaded to store it up in the attic, but it would scare the absolute bejeezus out of anyone going up into the attic because it looked like someone with piercing blue eyes and a massive pompadour haircut was up there lurking in the shadows. Both artifacts are now in loving homes where they are loved, appreciated and well cared for. The Elvis on Velvet painting is in a friend’s garage – AKA his “Sports Bar” and man cave. I once turned around in heavy traffic to go back to a rummage sale on someone’s front lawn where I thought I had spied an Elvis lamp. Much to my chagrin, it turned out to be a Michael Jackson lamp. This was twenty years before Michael Jackson’s sad and untimely demise; so, at the time it had nowhere near the heavy mojo that an Elvis lamp had. My Elvis on velvet painting and Elvis lamp now reside in the same mystical corners of my memory as my Davy Crockett paraphernalia, my Harmony guitar, my brother’s Indian motorcycle and Skeletor’s Castle Gray Skull. Actually, it’s a better place for all that stuff to be, because ultimately, that’s all it really is – it’s just more “stuff.” I guess we’re not the first culture to elevate our celebrities and popular figures to the level of religious icons and the pantheon of gods. One only has to go back through history to find numerous examples of this. Porphyrius was a renowned charioteer in Rome during the 5th and 6th centuries AD. He is famous for having seven monuments built in his honor in the Hippodrome. I’m not saying that an Elvis on velvet painting is in the same league as a monument to Porphyrius in the hippodrome, but only time will tell.