Here comes Elvis — singing Santa Claus. Couldn’t resist . . .

Out of the blue, Elvis Presley ruptured our straight-jacketed ’50s consciousness when I was a Freshman in high school. 1956-57. I’ll never forget that Saturday when my friend Mary and I packed both lunch and dinner, so that we could go downtown, to the Orpheum, and sit spellbound through three or four showings of his movie, “Love Me Tender,” all at once. We couldn’t get enough of this man whose voice and body were so deeply alive.

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