Longtime readers of my column were not surprised by the news that Elvis is still alive and hanging out at 7-Eleven. Longtime readers of my column do not need to depend on sleazy tabloids to tell them important stuff.
In January, 1987, before his face even appeared in a screen door in Lubbock, Tex., I reported an Elvis sighting on an eastbound San Francisco commuter train. The reason you heard it here first is that I don't make up the news. I just tell what happens to me.
As I reported then, a group of terrorists was attempting to seize the train and take it to East Beirut. Although the long-awaited track extension from Oakland to Lebanon had not yet been built, you don't dare argue with those people.
The situation was dangerous enough to force Elvis, who was riding the train to save on rent, to come out from hiding as a dead person and save our lives. He even sang a few riffs of "Jailhouse Rock" on the train's sound system.
That we were saved by Elvis might have been missed by some people on the train. I attributed my higher Elvis consciousness to the fact that I once touched the King's leg. I didn't cop bare leg, though--only gold lame.
It happened in 1956 at the Chicago Amphitheater, quite near the stockyards where thousands of pigs were awaiting slaughter. Inside the theater thousands of pubescent girls like me and my best friend, Henrietta, were squealing over Elvis.
My big sister, Myrna Lou, and her boyfriend, Norman (The Bomb) Baum, took us. Except Henrietta and I couldn't see because everyone was standing on chairs and we were behind 6-foot-tall obese twin brothers. (We also couldn't hear because everyone was screaming.)
I rushed up to the stage and before the cop grabbed me I actually touched the leg of Elvis' gold lame suit. That was more than 30 years ago and I haven't washed my hand since.
Recently, a lot of people have been requesting a free government-issue photograph of Elvis and Richard Nixon because they read about it in Bob Greene's column. I myself paid cash for the photograph (like a decent American) years ago at a card shop. In the photo, Nixon is giving Elvis an award for not using (ha-ha) drugs. I guess Nixon found a pill Elvis forgot to take.
What most people don't know (but they will now because they are depending on this column for their news) is what actually took place in that picture. What actually happened is that Nixon fed Elvis an enchilada for lunch that day, which caused a transmigration of Elvis' soul to Nixon and vice versa. What this means is that Elvis has actually been living in that swank place on the Saddle River and Nixon is trying to come back from the dead.
One of the things Nixon has been doing is sending letters of unsolicited advice from the great beyond. The latest was a letter to George Bush telling him that Dukakis was smart to pick Bentsen because Texas is "the big enchilada." This is not to be confused with "the whole enchilada" of Watergate fame.
The point to all this is that for only $5.95, my hand, which once touched Elvis, will send you Nixon's enchilada recipe. It will turn you into Elvis! It will help you win Texas! And, best of all, it's a balanced diet.
Better yet, send the cash to your favorite charity and I'll give you the recipe.
Richard Nixon's Make-Us-Whole Enchilada Recipe
1. Take tortilla. Check for faces of dead saints or Ed Meese. Cover with Velveeta.
2. Roll. Spread with Weight Watchers mayo.
3. Add dollop of catsup and eat.
Add it to ice cream and you can eat it by the scoop.
You heard it here first.