Readers' tales of life-changing mix tapes, by Peter Hartlaub

The Power of the Mix Tape. A musical epic that appeared today in the Datebook section of the San Francisco Chronicle. C-30, C-60, C-90, Go!

THE LOVERS

Donald Barks' record collection was impressive, even way back in 1985. Now, the stay-at-home dad has more than 4,000 albums on vinyl, stacked high along the walls of his Oakland home.

He had more than 2,000 albums 23 years ago, when he and his wife lived on an Air Force base in Illinois, and hosted a party at which Sue McCullough and her husband dropped by. McCullough's husband was impressed with Barks' music collection. Barks was impressed with McCullough.

"I was one of those guys who was never going to have kids. Then I looked at this woman," Barks says. "They talk about biological imperatives. It was like, I don't know, 'we have to make babies.' I told her, 'We would make the most beautiful babies,' and then I gave her the mix tape."

It didn't happen quite that fast. At first the couples started hanging out together, and McCullough fought her attraction to Barks, even though she was going through counseling in her own marriage. Barks and McCullough met one day on the base, and she said 'no' to him for what she thought was the last time.

"I drove out of the Air Force base to go home," she remembers. "And he hopped in his car and went around to the other gate, (traveling) three miles in these back roads in Illinois, through the cornfields, intercepting me halfway home. He must have been driving 80 or 90 on those dirt roads."

Barks had spent the previous night with his records, making a mix tape that said all the things he couldn't. The tape is buried somewhere in some boxes in their house now, or maybe even lost. But it doesn't matter - the couple remembers almost every track.

There's a subliminal quality to the album, which is sequenced almost like a conversation is taking place. Barks included "Mated" by Todd Rundgren (For as long as this life lasts/We are mated/Why else would you be here right now?/And you know we'll still be here tomorrow), along with "The Weakness in Me" by Joan Armatrading. (I have a lover who loves me - how could I break such a heart?) The David Bromberg version of "Such a Night" ends the tape.

Barks vividly remembers the night he made the tape.

"Paul Simon's '50 Ways to Leave Your Lover' came on. It was like 'Oh God,' " Barks says. "So I pulled out a tape and I started. It was all kind of thematic like that. It was conflicted and bittersweet."

Once Barks chased her down in his car, McCullough says, almost no words were exchanged.

"He had that tape, and he sat me in the car and I bawled my eyes out and listened," McCullough says. "I think he let me have the tape for a while. That was the only thing that was good about that old Pinto, was the stereo."

A few months later, both marriages were over - everything was moved in one round trip, and McCullough's husband ended up renting a room at Barks' wife's place. Barks and McCullough were married in 1987, and they've since raised two sons, ages 10 and 17.

They're not proud of their failed marriages or the pain they caused their spouses, even though both Barks and McCullough think they would have ended up divorced even if they never met each other. But after more than 20 years, their continued happiness is a sign that following their hearts was the right thing to do.

"Where else in the middle of the 1980s was I going to run into a guy who wanted to stay home with the kids and let me have the career?" McCullough says. "We just suit each other. ... We're as close to happily ever after as real life ever gets."

THE BETRAYAL

Annika Dukes says that at first she didn't think much about the crush. A statuesque lesbian working in San Francisco in the mid-1990s, no doubt a lot of straight guys were going to fall for her.

But then the quiet co-worker started making mix tapes, with production quality that was beyond amazing. These weren't cheap cassettes with "MIX TAPE" scrawled on the front and a few Depeche Mode songs inside. The co-worker's tapes had full-color fold-out covers, with selected lyrics printed inside and a song list that ranged from Frank Sinatra and Tom Jones to newer bands including Everything But the Girl, Veruca Salt and Belly.

"He really liked Belly," Dukes remembers, fast forwarding through his songs on an old tape player in her Richmond home.

Dukes still has two tapes, but thinks she received three, the first in 1995 and the last in 1997. Her picture is on both. The front of the first one has her posing sideways in a sleeveless dress, with "Breakfast at Annika's" in big letters. Another is called "100% Sap," with a picture of Dukes and the tape's creator inside. Selected lyrics from the songs cover the fold-out cassette sleeve.

"The thing was, he was a very passive person. But when you see the songs that he chose and the lines that he pulled out, he was very forward about his feelings in the tape," Dukes recalls. "It's kind of like when people write things in your yearbook, and you'd never guess that they felt those things. And then you'd look at it in the summer and think, 'Where did that come from?' "

Typical of the blunt messages was "I Will Wait" by the band Ed's Redeeming Qualities: "I make money waiting tables/And I don't know what you do/I've been a waiter all my life/I can wait a while for you."

Eventually, the co-worker stopped waiting. At one point, Dukes says he pursued her much younger cousin, an exchange student from Sweden. But they remained friends, and were driving through the city together one day when Dukes made the discovery.

"We were in San Francisco going up one of those big hills where it turns from downtown into North Beach," Dukes remembers. "He was busy in traffic, so I was looking around at all the tapes in his car."

It was there that Dukes says she found a near-duplicate of one of her mix tapes, except with another girl's picture and a slightly different title. The design and many of the songs were the same.

"I did say something to him. 'What is this! Oh my God! What's going on?' He totally did not think it was a big deal at all," Dukes says. "He was defensive, and didn't know what my problem was. I figure in his head he must have thought 'It never worked for you, so I might as well recycle it for somebody else.' "

The more Dukes thought about it, the more questions arose. Was she the first, or the 40th, girl to receive the tape?

She's since come to terms with the betrayal, and doesn't hold a grudge against the co-worker or his tapes. Dukes has a long-term boyfriend now, and during a trip in his car that only has a tape deck, she played "Breakfast at Annika's." They both admired the contents.

"He was definitely amusing to hang out with. (And) when I look at this music, a lot of it is stuff he introduced me to," she says. "Everything But the Girl is a (band) I totally love. Matthew Sweet - we went to his show together. The Lemonheads ... "

Dukes, who has crafted mix tapes herself all her life - starting with the five-volume "Annika's Favorites" series in high school - says the iTunes era just doesn't match up.

"You think about people making mixed CDs, they can knock one off in less than an hour," she says. "The idea of putting a tape together for someone that you like - it would take days to pick exactly the right songs, and fit them in exactly the right order. It almost encourages your obsession in a different way."

And when she thinks about that amount of time he put into them, she can almost - almost - understand why her former crush might have recycled the tapes.

"Obviously he wanted to recoup some of his investment by reusing it."

THE SURVIVOR

A bad day in 1999 got worse for Anna Castle, as she pulled into her driveway in Calistoga. Her 1960 Pontiac Bonneville got hit from behind, spun around and hit by a second car.

"After checking myself and my dog Charlie, I frantically rummaged around for my cardboard box o' mix tapes. They, too, were unscathed," she wrote in a recent comment on The Chronicle's parenting blog. "So I removed everything from my car, putting it on the side of the driveway, and called a tow truck."

The next scene was like something out of "The Simpsons." The tow truck showed up, pulled into Castle's driveway, and rolled right over her tape collection, destroying at least 18 tapes. With one poorly executed driving move - Castle recalls that the driver had one eye and reeked of alcohol - the tape era was over.

Her collection was especially impressive and diverse. Castle was an Army brat, and had collected mix tapes from all over the world, after living at various times in Hawaii, Seattle, Ireland and Southeast Asia.

"That box o' tapes had survived puberty, cross-country trips, several boyfriends, being lost (then found) in the Canadian postal service, two international moves, countless spilled drinks and sun-baked dashboards," she says. "The tapes had been spliced, recorded over and even chucked from a moving car (I went back for it ... a little damp, but none the worse for the wear)."

But in a scene that's eerily reminiscent of the beginning of "Finding Nemo," a single tape did survive. It was the one in the car stereo tape deck, made in the ninth grade by her "best friend/girl crush" when they lived in Seattle.

"We're not in touch anymore, but she was my buddy," Castle remembered in a phone interview recently. "She was lovely and always smelled like cinnamon gum."

The title is "Tangerine and Mineral Water" and the playlist screams good times in the early 1990s - with tracks ranging from "Wave of Mutilation" by the Pixies, "I Like Big Butts" by Sir Mix-A-Lot and two different songs called "Just Like Heaven," from the Cure and Dinosaur Jr. The album ends with "Love Song" by Morrissey and "One" by U2.

Castle left the Bay Area seven years ago. She's a massage therapist living in Kauai now with her husband and two kids, ages 4 1/2 and 3 months. She says she still cherishes that tape, and listens to it all the time.

"I can only play it when no one's around," Castle says. "Cuz they just don't get it."

THE EXPATS

Chris Larson and Alan Millen have a few things in common. Both are from the West Coast of the United States, and have worked in Switzerland for more than two decades. Both enjoy pop culture and music. They met in 1995, when former Lodi resident Larson replaced Vancouver Island native Millen as an English-language translator for the now-defunct Swissair.

And they are both upset about the endangered status of the cassette mix tape.

"In the summer of 2004 I read an article on the Internet about the imminent end of the mix tape era," Millen says. "Determined to keep an endangered art form alive, I proposed making a 90-minute mix tape under the concept of 'sonic surrealism,' the cassettes to be exchanged at the turn of each season, sent by mail with the proviso that the receiver could not listen to the tape until he had posted his own."

All manner of sound was allowed on the mix tapes, whether it was music, a famous speech, audio effects or ambient noise. No playlists were included to add to the surprise. Larson's says one of his greatest sequencing moments included Richard Nixon's resignation speech followed by Aretha Franklin's "I Never Loved a Man" - and later some audio of "my Uncle Johnny rambling on about trapping skunks as a kid."

"For my money, the most surreal moment of this exercise was Alan's taping of American Indian tribal dances on an entire tape side, and using that as a base," Larson recalls. "He then taped other songs over this, leaving several seconds of chanting interspersed between each of his sonic surreal contributions."

Millen included at least a portion of a Leonard Cohen track on every tape, and Larson always had something by Tower of Power. But the only rule was that there were no rules. The second tape, for the 2004 Winter Solstice, was a Christmas version, where Larson programmed side two with 16 different versions of "The Christmas Song."

Millen explains: "The challenge was to keep the listener in the dark as to what was coming next, enhancing the segue to a mini art form of its own, just like a pitcher who might deliver five fastballs in a row and then follow up with a slider, curve and sinker."

Sometimes there were themes - desert island and heroes/villains were a couple - and the titles were always as inspired as the contents: "Mom & Dad's Funky Italian Summer Holiday" ... "Leitmotif Time in the Lounge (Flint says hello)" ... "Full English Breakfast" ...

The tradition continued every three months until summer 2007, when Larson acknowledges, "The creative batteries were getting a little low."

Larson and Millen aren't sure if they'll revive their exercise, but they still carry the mix tape torch. Alan, who is 56 now, says he hasn't gotten around to downloading a song yet, and still owns and uses a Sony Walkman cassette player. He recently made a mix tape for his friend in Vancouver. "The theme was rivers," he says.

Larson, 45, occasionally spends an afternoon putting together "Saturday Night Dinner" mixes when his wife prepares a special meal.

"The theme generally depends on what she's preparing," Larson says. "But don't ask me the difference between a seafood/pasta mix tape and a chile rellenos/beans/rice mix tape!"

Larson says he finds CD mixes "a bit sterile," comparing them to working on a modern automobile, as opposed to getting under the hood of a 1963 Ford Falcon.

"Selecting a playlist in your head, marking down the amount of time used up on a cassette side and, above all, the wonderful feeling when the final track is finished taping on a side, and you look and have about 3 seconds of tape left. No wasted air!" Larson says. "It's a seat-of-the-pants art form that can't be reproduced in either CD or iTunes mixes. (I'm) very sorry to see the era pass."

READER RESPONSE

For a story about the mix-tape revival Web site Mux tape.com with our Mix Tape Song Hall of Fame, and to share your own mix-tape stories, check out today's post on the Poop, The Chronicle's parenting blog, at www.sfgate.com/blogs/parenting.

Books about mix tapes:

"Mix Tape: The Art of Cassette Culture" Thurston Moore (2005)
"Love Is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time" Rob Sheffield (2007)

Web sites about mix tapes:

http://www.tinymixtapes.com/ http://www.mixtapetorrent.com/

http://www.muxtape.com/ http://www.artofthemix.org/

www.myspace.com/mixtapeproject

http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2008/04/27/PK7J106K2J.DTL

Spaghetti with Mango

La Voglia, La Pazzia, L'Incoscienza, L'Allegria
(Warner Brothers, 1976)
Ornella Vanoni, Vinícius de Moraes e Toquinho

In a perfect universe, every two or three years records like this one would come out creating magic out of crossing over music styles we never thought they would meet. In a perfect universe, Ornella Vanoni would be our mistress and Raffaella Carra our wife; but that's another story, and it's personal anyway :) .

A crazy idea in a completely outdated moment, impossible to happen. Whoever had this idea, please contact me because I want to interview you. A brazilian-italian fusion album in the middle of the seventies, full of poetry and sentimental vocals by Toquinho, Vinicius de Moraes and the great, adventurous Ornella Vanoni. A woman who's been in the spotlight for more than 45 years, creating beautiful standards of italian music. Capable of convince me that she's for a second the greatest singer ever and of posing nude for the Italian version of Playboy (I'm still looking for the pictures online!)

This 1976 album had everything to be a total flop, a failure, a confusing mixture of genres, but it stood up thanks to the legendary status of the three main characters. First, toquinho, a superb guitarist and singer, 10 years Ornella's junior, out of Sao Paulo. Then, Vinicius De Moraes, a Carioca poet and diplomat who was at that moment in the september of his years, but was about to give one of the last strikes of his genius penmanship and talent in this project. He would die four years later.

Vinicius, with Ornella and Toquinho, put out a series of musicalized poems that feature smooth harmonics, catchy rhythms and hey, italian and portuguese lyrics that put you, the listener, in a place like this one:

I commented once that this must be one of the most beautiful products Warner Music ever released. It's up to you to discover it. A unique mixture of Italian and Brazilian rhythms and melodies, so passionate it hurts. The path is signaled.

Elvis y el Gran Sueño Americano

Fue la más pura y popular encarnación del rock and roll. El ídolo de multitudes. El rey. Elvis Presley. Era blanco, se vestía de blanco y cantaba a chicas blancas; pero con voz de negro. La fama de este hombre hizo que el ritmo de Rock And Roll se hiciera conocer a nivel mundial gracias a su belleza física, a su agradable carisma y sobre todo a la maestría y talento de sus interpretaciones. El éxito de sus discos y películas solo puede ser comparado con el de Frank Sinatra y el de Los Beatles. Aunque creo que a Presley no le gustaría esa última comparación, por ser los Beatles ingleses, ni tampoco las imitaciones-homenajes del grupo Dread Zeppelin, que hacía covers interesantes de los Zep en ritmos de reggae con un cantante gordito y sudoroso vestido como Elvis durante su triunfal período de conciertos en Las Vegas. La fama de Elvis se mantiene; a veces cae un poco, y cuando eso ocurre oímos a alguien comentar que posiblemente esté vivo, y su fama alza vuelo nuevamente.

Personalmente considero a Elvis más un precursor que un rey en un sentido propio. Pero hay mucha justicia cuando lo llaman "El Rey del Rock And Roll," porque sin él este estilo musical no se hubiera expandido ni afianzado a un nivel global. Por primera vez la gran masa juvenil de quince a veinte años reconocía un estilo propio de musicalidad y rebeldía, y lo hacían suyo. Un ritmo considerado escandaloso en Estados Unidos y alienante en el extranjero. Pero en verdad alguien tenía que responder por toda esa amargura y desesperación que sentían los jóvenes en todo el mundo por la Guerra Fría, la cacería de brujas del Macartismo, la falta de empleo y oportunidades y el desentendimiento entre padres e hijos. La música de Elvis no intentó crear discordia ni odios entre generaciones, sino más bien buscar un entendimiento y un diálogo contando problemas juveniles relacionados con el amor perdido y la falta de comunicación. Canciones como Yakitie—Yak, Hound Dog, Heartbreak Hotel, Love Me y otras tantos magníficos temas que fueron distintivos de la primera etapa del cantante, antes de partir al servicio militar.
La fama gigantesca que alcanzó Presley se basa en una triste realidad que siempre ha golpeado a los Estados Unidos: el racismo. La voz de un negro tocando blues es magistral; está llena de sentimiento y dolor, y no puede ser más sincera. Pero es la voz de un negro feo que no gustará entre las chicas blancas adineradas. Elvis tiene esa voz y es muy atractivo para las mujeres. Venderá. No creo que bluseros como Robert Johnson o Little Walter o rockeros como Chuck Berry o Little Richard hubieran tenido tanta aceptación. Elvis era pobre, pero blanco. Si hubiera nacido negro, no hubiera sido tan popular con las chicas ni con los padres que por primera vez aceptaban un estilo de música antes relegado a las minorías. Hasta antes de Elvis, los jóvenes escuchaban la música que los padres ponían en las enormes radiolas Grundig. Oían a Bing Crosby, a Frank Sinatra, a Eddie Fisher, a Guy Lombardo... Despues de verlo y oír, los jóvenes estadounidenses tomaron la decisión de hacerlo suyo y dejar a los mayores con su música, que no la consideraban mala, sino poco útil para la realidad de un adolescente. Los jóvenes lo imitarían, se vestirían con chaquetas de cuero, escucharían música bailable de los Jukebox, sacarían a pasear a sus rubísimas novias en sus motocicletas y de cuando en cuando, como Elvis lo hacía en cada una de sus películas, se agarrarían a trompadas por alguna que otra fémina. Los adolescentes europeos harían lo mismo; entre ellos dos chiquillos de diecisiete y quince años que empezaron a tocar juntos en un puerto pobre de Inglaterra llamado Liverpool. Los chicos se apellidaban Lennon y McCartney y también lo copiaban y querían llegar a ser famosos y elegantes como él. Pero esa es otra historia.

Como una extraña ironía de la vida, el más famoso cantante de rock and roll de todos los tiempos tuvo la carrera peor administrada que artista alguno pudo tener. Un éxito apabullante de 1956 a 1959; su servicio militar voluntario en Alemania aplaudido por la patriotiquísima sociedad americana; todo para encontrar al regreso, en vez de más discos buenos de blues y rock and roll de lo más puro, un absurdo contrato de 3 películas por año —la mayoría de ellas no tan buenas como le hacían creer a Elvis en el rodaje—. Su manager, el Coronel Tom Parker, nunca lo dejó ir a otros países ya que éste señor estaba de ilegal en los Estados Unidos y temía ser deportado si es que salía del país y no podía entrar de nuevo. No todo estaba en orden en la corte del rey. Qué clase de empresario puede hacer que su cliente firme un agobiante contrato fílmico mientras los Beatles y la British Invasion hacían que América (El continente América) se rindiera a los súbditos de Su Majestad. Si Elvis les hubiera dado a los Beatles un poco más de pelea, en vez cantar para el ecrán, muchas cosas en la historia del Rock habrían cambiado drásticamente. Quizás los Beatles no hubieran sido número uno en Estados Unidos en casi todas las semanas de 1964 y Elvis hubiera sido mucho más legendario de lo que ahora es, si es que se puede llegar a serlo.

Para los chinos, según una encuesta, las tres personalidades más influyentes del mundo occidental en China son Jesucristo, Richard M. Nixon y Elvis Presley. Los dos últimos trabajaron juntos para controlar la fuerte invasión extranjera en las radios y pregonar un patriotismo que tenía que catalizar en la juventud americana porque por primera vez los Estados Unidos perdían una guerra en Viet Nam y los jóvenes, supuestamente patriotas, no querían pelear. Elvis tenía a su cargo una organización que vigilaba a los traficantes de drogas en el mundo del espectáculo y se encargaba de mantener limpios a aquellos nuevos rockeros adolescentes que querían portarse mal. No era un secreto tampoco que tenía muchos amigos y contactos en la CIA. Digamos, por así decirlo, que Elvis también traicionó algunos ideales de la generación del Rock and Roll al dejarse envolver por el stress de la fama y llenarse de dólares que lo alejaron de la gente y de la vida a la que él gustaba cantarle. Las penas de un camionero, las tribulaciones del amor, las alegrías de una madre.

2007 Conmemorará el trigésimo aniversario de la muerte de Elvis Presley. Una muerte que, por lo visto, no es tan real como se pinta si consideramos que todo el mundo sigue obsesionado con él. Me pregunto por qué tanta gente en Estados Unidos piensa que podría estar vivo. Por qué algunos aseguran haberlo visto comiendo donas en una playa en Hawaii, o acomodando adornos en Graceland, o cubierto con una barba y unos lentes de sol conduciendo un camión en Memphis. Es una locura, pero una locura simpática porque subraya la idea de que a un fan no se le puede engañar. Se suele comentar que Elvis está vivo y que no es tan fantasiosa la idea. No puedo asegurar que está vivo o muerto porque en los últimos años han aparecido pruebas interesantísimas que podrían demostrar que Elvis fingió una muerte rápida y basada en su mal compañero (la gordura y los excesos de píldoras) para desaparecer del mundo de la farándula y cantar en algún sitio, a la gente que él quiere que lo vea, sus blues. La fama lo estaba asesinando poco a poco y era evidente. Ya no era el atractivo joven que bailaba con su guitarra y volvía locos a sus fanáticos hacíendolos comprar sus discos y souvenirs a montones. Se estaba volviendo en una absurda imitación de si mismo. Su grupo de "rock and roll" de los setentas incluía secciones de viento, orquestas y varios guitarristas y sus canciones ya no eran de rock and roll. Se había convertido en un baladista. ¿Habrá querido eso? ¿O se dejó llevar por las órdenes de su manager, el coronel Tom Parker?

He aquí algunas razones por las cuales los fanáticos de Elvis consideran que podría estar vivo. No hay ninguna afirmación en ellas, solo conjeturas. Pero qué interesantes:

• El más grande cantante de rock and roll americano fallece el 16 de agosto de 1977 y en vez de hacer unos funerales dignos de un artista de su talla, se hace un rápido cortejo fúnebre en su casa donde ninguna foto puede ser tomada. Solo una foto borrosa saldría de ese funeral. Se cree que un fan de Elvis deshauciado se hizo pasar por él. En verdad, el cadáver se parece a Elvis pero hay rasgos que hacen dudar, como una nariz más larga y una delgadez más evidente. La presidenta del club de fans, que difícilmente logró entrar a dicho funeral, al ver el cadáver dijo: "Ese no es Elvis"; a lo que el padre del rey ambiguamente respondió: "Elvis está en el segundo piso". Se cree que Elvis vigilaba todo lo que ocurría en su propio funeral.



• El entierro se hizo en un cementerio cercano, pero, debido a la insistencia de algunos fanáticos que querían abrir el ataúd para rendir póstumo homenaje a su ídolo (de paso robar el cadáver), el ataúd fue trasladado en secreto al mausoleo privado de la familia Presley, una Ley estadounidense establece que ningún mausoleo puede abrirse hasta después de 50 años. Para el año que caduque esa ley, 2027, Elvis de hecho que estará bien muerto.



• Como los musulmanes con la ciudad de La Meca, todo buen fan de Elvis tiene que visitar alguna vez en su vida Graceland, la casa de Elvis, considerada la segunda casa más visitada en los Estados Unidos después de la Casa Blanca. Ahí se lee en el mausoleo de Elvis: "Aquí yace Elvis Aaron Presley". Se sabe que su verdadero nombre fue Elvis Aron Presley. Una prueba es dicho nombre impreso en el bolso que llevaba a Alemania cuando se iba a cumplir su servicio militar. No voy a extender el tema de cuántas barbaridades se pueden decir de una persona con solo alterar una letra de su nombre. Quién sabe si los maquinadores de dicho supuesto engaño querían quedar bien con la decencia americana de decir la verdad, así no lo parezca.



• El día de la muerte de Presley, la fábrica de discos de RCA trabajó al máximo. Hubo sobreproducción de álbumes de Elvis y hasta ahora se han vendido muchos más discos después de muerto que en toda su carrera. La pregunta que muchos se hacen es: ¿Ya sabía con anticipación la RCA que algo tan trascendental, y a la vez triste, iba a ocurrir con Elvis para prensar tantos discos? ¿No será que todo estaba planeado de antemano?


• ¿Por qué su ex-esposa Priscilla es la que maneja todo el Merchandising de Elvis si se supone que rompieron palitos cuatro años antes de su muerte? ¿También fue un divorcio fingido? No son raros en el mundo de la farándula.


• Otra conjetura, relacionada con la numerología, dice que la fecha de la muerte de Elvis Presley 16—8—1977, si son sumadas las cifras, dan 2001, año en que muchos hinchas esperanzados creyeron que Elvis reaparecería del anonimato (no, no pasó nada). En sus conciertos de los setentas, Elvis utilizaba como cortina musical de apertura la fantástica pieza Also Sprach Zarathustra de Richard Strauss, que fue utilizada para la formidable película 2001: A Space Oddysey, de Stanley Kubrick. Algunos creen que dicha cortina, relacionada con el título del film, daba una idea a los fans de cuánto debían esperar para volver a ver a su ídolo cantar de nuevo. En el 2001 Elvis tendrá (perdón, tendría) 66 años, y a los 66 años es bien difícil cantar con la misma fuerza como cuando se tiene 22.

Todas estas suposiciones tienen como rival a una conclusión fría y certera que afirma que Elvis pasó a mejor vida y que solo vive cuando lo revivimos en sus magníficas canciones: si Elvis estuviera vivo, no hubiera dejado por ningún motivo que su única hija Lisa Marie se case con un tipo tan raro y traumatizado como Michael Jackson. Creo que ni muerto hubiera permitido ese casamiento. Bueno, imaginemos por un momento que en el año 2001 Elvis Presley aparece ante las cámaras de un programa de televisión, por ejemplo, el de Barbara Walters o el de Oprah Winfrey diciendo que estuvo escondido todos estos años porque quería la paz pueblerina que había perdido a los veinte años y que agradece a todos los fans por esperar. Que él sabe cuánto sufrieron los verdaderos fans y que él tampoco los abandonó y les dio más discos. Cualquier cosa parecida que suceda, sería el mayor escándalo de la farándula que hubiera ocurrido en toda la historia. Ningún incidente se le parecería.

A Elvis Presley hay que agradecerle el tremendo avance de la música popular, la que, parafraseando a César Vallejo, viene del pueblo y va hacia él. Dicho avance es el más grande que arte alguno pudo haber tenido en la breve historia del ser humano. Su repercusión es gigantesca y se sentirá por muchos años, más allá del 2001.

Chequea a Elvis en Amazon.com y la página web del Elvis Presley Fan Club en Perú. Elvis Forever!

Tell me no lies, make me a happy man...