Elvis and Other Trivia

I was fascinated the other night by the trivia I heard from a talk radio host. It served as background chatter as I feverishly worked to weed and clip in my garden. I was determined to finish, in spite of the swarm of mosquitoes hovering overhead. I had it down to a system: I’d swat with one arm and weed with the other. Ah, the Minnesota nightlife!

But back to the talk radio host. I couldn’t get over the trivia this guy knew about Elvis Presley. I learned about what year he was “discovered,” how his one-piece jump suit was made, why the television cameras were not allowed to film his hip gyrations, (oh, for such censorship today!), how many women he was “acquainted” with, how genteel and “shy” he really was, and what a patriotic American he was—a wealth of information to remember about a man who has been dead for 26 years.

No. I didn’t turn the dial because the radio was 20 feet away and I was more anxious to beat the weeds and battle the mosquitoes than to take the time to find an “oldies but goodies” venue. Besides, the talk host and his “call-ins,” who reminisced and expounded about their love of “the King,” intrigued me.

The king of what? Rock and roll? Maybe.

Have you ever noticed the American fascination with celebrities—even those who have died? Is it just me, or does it seem odd that the tabloid journals lining the supermarket checkout lines are splattered with glamour shots of notables— some of whom are passé and old news before the year is out, or others such as Jackie O, Princess Di, Jackie’s son, John, Jr., and Elvis, who have been dead for years?

I don’t get it. Why all the time and money spent on celebrities—kings, princesses, or presidents though they may have been—who have no bearing on our everyday lives?

I really don’t understand the phenomena of elevating to celebrity and near “sainthood” those politicians, sports figures, and rock stars, who have demonstrated the most outrageous and scandalous behavior. It seems the naughtier a public figure is, the more sought after they become.

What a message to our children. And what role models to hold up for them!

There certainly is no harm in keeping trivia about Elvis or any other public figure. What saddened me as I listened was knowing that the talk radio host is the same guy who freely boasts about not “darkening the door of a Catholic church more than once or twice a year,” in spite of his Catholic upbringing. (I hope his mother is praying.)

Sad to say, his faith is slowly being pushed aside, replaced by other priorities. He is probably not even aware of the fact that some of his public broadcast “views on the Catholic Church” are really anti-Catholic in tone.

How does that happen to good people? I would guess that it happens not overnight, but gradually, like water coming to a boil.

The talk radio host reminded me of a good friend who was raised in the faith, but gradually fell away. Although he occasionally called himself “Catholic,” he hadn’t attended Mass in over three decades.

His parents did the best they could to present the faith when he was growing up. He attended Catholic school and practiced the faith with his family. But he also lived through some of the most tumultuous of modern times: the 60s, when rebellion against faith, family, and patriotism became not just acceptable, but trendy.

I don’t think my friend intentionally “left” the Church. Rather, he just became more comfortable and content living life his way—kind of like that terrible Frank Sinatra song, “My Way” (one of the few I don’t like!).

He had an inquisitive mind and a fascination for the “unknown.” His attention and focus was slowly taken over by an obsessive interest in politics, UFOs (yes I said UFOs), and extraterrestrial beings. It’s funny how one can believe in “outer space beings,” but not the saving action of Jesus Christ.

His was not so much a “one-time” decision to leave the Church, but rather a gradual slide, a day-to-day choice to ignore God’s invitation. It wasn’t long before my friend was cemented and comfortable in his non-belief.

Over the years, he busied his life and inquisitive mind, collecting boxes and boxes of tapes, books, computer disks, and CDs, all about UFOs and the “predictions” of extraterrestrial beings. Yet, knowing Jesus Christ as His Lord and Savior and practicing the Catholic faith became too much for him to swallow.

In recent years, my friend and I would spend hours talking and discussing our beliefs. It was an exercise in frustration for me, and for him as well. No matter our differences, we loved and respected each other. However, my beliefs were based on the truth as I know it through the Catholic Church. His were based on “science” and the study of the vast “unknown.”

He recently died of a massive heart attack and was buried the way he lived—in a secular setting with no official religious ceremony. It was the saddest “send off ” I could ever have imagined.

The only comfort that comes is knowing that many are praying for him, most especially his 91-year-old mother who says the Rosary for all of her children. And as my pastor reminded me, God is infinite in His love and divine mercy. My friend’s eternity is now in God’s tender hands.

But, it’s a lesson for us as parents. The faith we hope to instill in our children at Baptism is like a small seed that needs nourishment and protection, or it will shrivel and die.

We want our young to know that faith is a gift. If we don’t treasure it and protect it against the allurements and forces of the world, we will lose it. And the best protection against that happening is daily prayer, attending Mass often, and saying the Rosary.

My own goal is to pray that my kids know more about the real King—Jesus Christ and His Church—than Elvis or any other king.

“So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom” (Ps. 90:12).

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