Sunday, October 31, 2010











Thursday, October 28, 2010


Starting during the summertime, And continuing until today the number of people who I call friend has been growing exponentially. Christian bikers, 1% a motorcycle gang members, old shipmate from the Navy, and many wonderful people right here in the blogosphere have reached out to me to say hello. Additionally I have regained contact with people that I went to high school with 40 years ago. Mostly on Facebook. Most of the old friends to see me remark that the bad boy image does not surprise them. But within the closer and see the pictures of my wheelchair I get bombarded with questions about what's the matter? Or what happened?

I am not embarrassed to tell the story. But after explaining it 200 times in the last three months it gets a little tiring. So for all of you people that I call friend, here's the story…

Long story short;
1.    Chemical exposure in the Navy resulted in a rare form of leukemia.
2.    Chemotherapy complications
3.    Coma, renal shut down, 0 blood pressure, at least 2  strokes,
4.    One full year of total quadriplegia
5.    Infections (caused by chemo) that required removal of my lower intestine
6.    Infections (caused by 0 blood pressure) that required removal of left leg below the knee. And all the toes on the right foot.
7.    3 ½ years battling sepsis,

And now I’m writing to you about this portion of my life journey. I have to warn you, at this point, I don’t tolerate pity in any form from anyone. I have had an insatiable lust for life. And I put more living into the first 30 years of my life, than most people see in 80. During  21 years in the Navy, I visited every continent on the planet, save Antarctica. All the places I couldn’t get to on a ship, I visited via motorbike. I have always owned a motorcycle. I own 1 now. My first car was a motorcycle. And I believe that bikers know exactly how the birds feel in flight. I enjoy chasing the horizon, with no particular destination in mind. Whether on two wheels or skimming across the surface of the sea.

I have no bucket-list (a list of things I must do before I kick the bucket) because I did all the dos, and saw all the sees, and tasted all of the tastes I have ever wanted before the opportunity escaped me. And if I were to die today there would be no reason to feel sorry for me. I have lived so close to the edge my entire life. So close that I have faced my mortality many times. The first time at age 9. And another half dozen times before my 20th birthday. In the latter portion of my life I have found great strength in my faith in an all powerful creator God, who knows my name and listens when I pray. No one has been to the abyss as closely or as often as I have, and does it without meeting that same GOD.

And one of my goals is to be able to ride a motorcycle again. I'm currently involved in the VA physical therapy program where we are trying to strengthen my arms and legs again and get back into life. During the protracted battle for life under the care of the people at Kaiser Permanente, we gauged success on the fact that I was still alive. I have recently reached a new stage in life were simply being on this side of the sod is not considered living. While the people in the are cautiously optimistic about my ability to walk again, they are staying very close mouth on the subject of motorcycles, and the riding one. Something about why put all that effort into saving you just had to get killed on a motorcycle. To which I respond "look at me now, motorcycle had nothing to do with this."

One last note:
Another friend remarked that, "it seems rather unfair that all of this should happen to a good person like you!" To which I respond, I have very seldom been a very good person. And all of this would only be unfair if it had happened to someone whom God had not given the strength endure and survive it.

I am truly blessed to have so many caring people in my life. And if you're reading this now I consider you to be my friend and for your friendship I am truly thankful.


Monday, October 25, 2010


I'm not sure what your position on workers unions may be. But I know that I am diametrically opposed to them all, and everything they stand for. hate is not a strong enough word to describe my feelings about Unions and collective bargaining agreements. If that statement angers you, tough darts farmer! It was meant to be inflammatory. Labor unions in the United States are one of the biggest causes  of the  financial crisis we are currently experiencing. The city of San Diego, is currently trying to close down all and essential services, and some essential services such as police and fire department because they cannot continue at their current tax level. During fiscal year 2009 the city of San Diego reported one lowest crime statistics ever reported for the city of San Diego. If the Police Department labor union has said that those numbers are incorrect because so much crime may actually go unreported. And that without the new tax revenue being proposed on this year's ballot the citizens of San Diego who live in fear because police officers will be leaving for better paying jobs in other places. Forget that there are no openings in those other places, and in those places are experiencing the same LOAD of rhetoric from their Police Department.

Due to freedom of information, it has been discovered that city employees retiring from the city of San Diego are able to garner upwards of $80,000 a year plus full medical benefits for life at age 50. It doesn't stop there. The state employee union has the same deal. This infuriates me! Not because of the money. But, because those employee unions use their collective political clout to boss politicians around and force them to give those people exactly what their avarice and greed desires.

There's nothing that infuriates me more than a drive by some building or some company where the employees are on strike because they want to draw attention to the fact that they aren't getting what they want. Complaining that their job is so dangerous, or their pay is so egregious that they just have to walk out and stop all financial gain being done by the Corporation. And supposedly their job is so dangerous or so underpaid that they have to stay in the street and threaten bodily harm against anybody that tries to take their job. If a nonunion member stood up in front of the company and threatened to beat up somebody who applied to work there he/she would be in jail so fast he would know what them. With these mobsters get away with it on television and act with impunity.

There is a ballot measure in San Diego County that removes the requirement for people bidding on a construction job to be a member of the union. I voted for that. Back in 1979 when I took a part-time job as a security guard during the Chargers football season, I was forced to become a member of the Teamsters union. It left a bad taste in my mouth that has lasted until today. I really wanted that job and I feel bad for having gone against my convictions about labor unions, just to have it.

One of my least favorite collective bargaining units is the teachers unions! Especially the California teachers union. I keep reading and hearing how underpaid and overworked teachers in California are. Yet children spent 12 years in school and still not know how to read. I read information that says teachers spend on average $500 out-of-pocket for classroom supplies. And ask for us to donate markers and pencils and paper supplies for the classroom. Because, they just don't have the resources to teach our children. Well, I'm calling a big fat BS on that! Two years ago Gov. Schwarzenegger put on a ballot measure that would not allow teachers that automatically gain tenure just by showing up to work every day. The California teachers Association spent $150 million to defeat that proposition. Where the hell did they get $150 million when they can't afford crayons? Schwarzenegger's biggest mistake was to not reintroduce that Bill the very next year. It would have been a knockout blow financially against their teachers union that they would never have recovered from. And we would not be faced with a situation where the teachers unions are more interested in the teachers there are about the children.

I have the utmost respect for teachers, but I despise their unions. And I think they make for bad politicians also. I would never vote for a person running for political office on the basis of their experiences in academia. Academia is responsible for some of the worst tragedies ever perpetrated on the human race. Those fools who sit in their ivory towers and pontificate on how we could improve the world, are the same people that brought you the Marxist pogroms that killed 60 million Russians installing Communism in that country. There is also the German intelligentsia who were responsible for developing Zyklon B (nerve gas used for extermination of Jews during the second world war).

I have been debating in my own mind the best course of action for this blog. I thoroughly enjoy all the people I have met here and the interactions that we share. But I am feeling drawn, no called, by my patriotic heart to go all political. I need a little feedback from my friends here. Should I go ahead and start a second blog, where I'm free to attack verbally all of those institutions that I find at odds with the American dream? Would you like to hear it here in this forum?


Saturday, October 23, 2010

Friday, October 22, 2010


In 2006 when the chemotherapy I was taking caused sepsis it was a life-changing experience. I spent the better part of a month in a coma, most of that year completely paralyzed and bedridden for the next 2 1/2 years. and during this time of infirmity the man pictured above took care of all my household repair needs. Without being asked, he came across the street from his house to mine and every two weeks for over three years my neighbor Dale mode my lawn, did all the yard maintenance and kept my automobile running so that my wife could have transportation and our home would be maintained.

Dale and his family moved into the house across the street from us approximately one week after we moved into our house. Homeowners in the new subdivision seems to make friends much easier, then when moving into an already established neighborhood. I owe this man a debt of gratitude, so great, that if I live forever I could not repay it. On July 13, 2008 the temperature outside was a balmy 118°and wouldn't you know it? One of the infamous California rolling blackouts struck full force and left my house without power or air-conditioned. Having grown up in the sultry parts of North Carolina that heat and humidity don't really bother me.  But the mattress of my hospital bed requires a constant pressure air pump to be running all the time. Otherwise mattress collapses and laying on cold steel. Dale and his family own RV, and during the blackout they just moved into the RV. Quite surprisingly to me, Dale remembered my situation and ran200 foot extension cord for the generator of his RV to the motor of my air mattress.

During the four years of my infirmity, Dale has come to my rescue in similar fashion on many occasions. And while I hear people complain that they know of nobody who lives up to the Christian principles, I know just such a person. He lives across the street from me and his name is Dale. He is one of the less than a dozen people I address as brother.

Thanks bro!

Tuesday, October 19, 2010


From very early on in my life, movies have been a big part. I enjoy all types of movies, from the classics like, "Of Mice and Men" and "The Grapes of Wrath" and "to kill a Mockingbird", the offbeat and bizarre martial arts classics like "Enter the Dragon" and "Enter the Fist "and "Kung Fu Hustle."

. But, my favorite genre is horror. As a young boy approximately 6 years old, my father would wake me on Friday nights at midnight to sit and watch the program called "Shock Theater." It was hosted by a gentleman who called himself, M. T. GRAVES. He was a ghoul who sat in a graveyard and introduced horror films. I cut my teeth learning about vampires and werewolves and serial murderers and became fascinated with the types of films that fill your body with adrenaline.I've never had a nightmare or bad dream that was generated by this viewing. Then in 1969 as a Marine Boulevard drive-in theater, I was introduced to the master of horror films, George A. Romero, when I caught his cult classic "Night of the Living Dead." And from that point post-apocalyptic zombie movies have been my favorite.

On another blog yesterday, I mentioned that George Romero was the barometer by which all other horror movies are measured. This is as true today as it was in 1969. For my birthday in August I got a copy of George's last two movies Diary of the Dead, and Survival of the Dead. Unlike most horror movies that try to interject some humor to keep the film from being completely bizarre, Living Dead Movies, have no such inclination.

I have read essays and articles to try to portray zombie movies as metaphors for racial discrimination and hatred. Long drawnout diatribes about how the white race mistreats the others. I disagreed vociferously. I did read a paper in the early 1980s the said George Romero had made a statement, or more correctly an allegory on immigration to America with his trilogy of living dead movies.

Stage I, Night of the Living Dead, shows the initial reaction toward the latest group of immigrants. Hatred, anger and violence.

Stage II, Dawn of the Dead, describes how we move away in droves to avoid being near the new immigrants.

Stage III, Day of the Dead, shows stage III as how we tend to accept the new immigrants by trying to find them jobs in menial labor, in the service industries.

Please note that I use the term "immigration" and not race. These allegories on immigration applied to the Irish, Italians, Asians and other nationalities as they came in droves to realize the American dream. John Steinbeck's novel, "The Grapes of Wrath" describes what happened when people fled from the dust bowl to find work as agricultural laborers in the fertile fields of California. The friendly loving citizens of the state California committed murder and mayhem to protect their jobs from the influx of fellow Americans.

Back to the topic, Horror Movies, I love horror movies and during the last half of the month of October I am in hog heaven. Serious vampire movies, not your namby-pamby, team Edward or team Jacob drivel with vampires and werewolves have love affairs and tender sentimentality. Where that crap come from? I believe it began with Anne Rice in her series of novels about the vampire Le Stat, in Interview with the Vampire. I like my vampires to be ruthless, cunning, heartless, cruel, evil, nasty, vile, blood thirsty predators. Not romantic semi-heroic starcrossed souls suffering under the burden of immortality. And from now until Halloween I'm going to highlight some of my favorite vampire movies for you.

first on the list of must-see:
Dusk till Dawn, starring George Clooney and Quentin Tarantino. This movie starts out with a pair of brothers who are sadistic sociopathic bank robbers and murderers. After a particularly brutal string of crimes they decide to head south of the border, in search of refuge. If you hold the romantic image of George Clooney, this movie may change that for you. The kicker is, despite the fact that he is a miserable murderer in pretty short order you find yourself cheering for him and hoping that he survives. Because the vampires in this movie are my kind of vampire.

Monday, October 18, 2010









These women have all layed sacrifice on the altar of American freedom. While you may complain that your husband spouse or significant other brings their work home with them, to the exclusion of you and your children, you ain't seen nothing yet. If you have paid any attention to my blog at all, you'll note that at no time have I ever called myself, or referred to myself as a hero. In fact on numerous occasions I have stated quite plainly that I am no hero.

But these women are heroes. They are my heroes. There is nothing in your sad little life that comes close in comparison to anything these women do on a daily basis. They don't want your pity. But they do have a story to tell and there is much you can learn from their courage. And while I encourage you to go and visit their blogs I also implore you to approach them with the utmost respect, which is due to all true American heroes and patriots. And when you thank God for our military men & women, remember their families as well.



Thursday, October 14, 2010




Her comments about me were very kind indeed. And now it appears as if I must now ADD
to the list of names
people call me...

Now the rules... 

1. Accept the award, post it on your blog, and link back to the person who gave it to you.
2. Pay it forward to 15 bloggers you have recently discovered.
3. Contact those blog owners and let them know that they've been chosen.


I am changing the rules so the term "you have RECENTLY DISCOVERED" is now;
15 bloggers I can't get along without...









14. SusanD @ This Day.

15. NicNacManiac @ NicNacManiac

and JUST BECAUSE I HATE PLAYING BY THE RULES and I have TWO more special bloggers...

17. RED SHOES @ Red shoes Chronicles.




Wednesday, October 13, 2010


Every year the leaves and trees change into bright colors from brilliant reds, purples and browns. But why? The leaves on the trees are filled with a chemical called chlorophyll 2. This chemical causes the trees to absorb light rays in the blue and red spectrum. And reflects light colors that appear to us as green. Chlorophyll 2, is an unstable element and breaks down easily in sunlight and needs to be replenished by the plant continuously. However as autumn approaches, and the temperatures dip, this process is interrupted. And as the chlorophyll depletes leaves the now reflect colors visible to us as red yellow and brown. Some plants have sugars in the leaves and causes the color change to hues visible as purples and oranges and blue. That is the process as we understand it.

My question was why colors? Science is unable to answer the question. There is no good reason on a scientific level for the presence of: color! We don't need it to find food, or to escape danger or to even find a mate. It is true that some things are easy for us identify their condition because of their color. But it is not essential. Herbivores are colorblind, as are some humans. This no way causes them to be less successful in surviving. And in some instances, brightly colored animals seem to disappear as if camouflaged and almost invisible even to fully color sighted creatures like ourselves.

For example the Tiger is brightly colored in hues of Orange black white and tawny brown.Yet despite this obvious flaw the tiger enjoys the highest success rate of predation of any four-footed creature on the planet. Where lions and cheetahs have a success rate between one in every 7 to 10 attempts. The Tiger's success rate is one in three. I have been to the San Diego Wild Animal Park, and they have a very unique tiger enclosure. Unlike the Tiger River display at the San Diego zoo, the Wild Animal Park tiger enclosure has several Tigers, but they are not easy to spot. The grass and bushes are overgrown and wild and it is possible to spend hours there and never see one of the five Tigers in the enclosure. In fact I have heard people comment "are there really any Tigers in there?" I have spent several times wondering the same thing. Then on one particular occasion I had been standing there for about 10 min. and saw nothing that resembled a tiger, and when one of the keepers arrived with a wheelbarrow full of raw meat, all five Tigers magically appeared from the grass no more than 10 feet from where I was standing. They're brilliant coloration was only obvious after they began to move.

Not only is it remarkable that light waves travel at frequencies allow us to perceive the different hues, our eyes have specialized receptors that allow us to enjoy these colors. And while science is unable to explain the reason for colors, I personally believe it to be one of God's gifts to us. A way for Him to display his Majesty to us visually. Whether it be the breathtaking vistas at sunset, the amber waves of grain, the purple mountains majesty or the sparkle in someone's eyes. Color is a blessing that I enjoy.

Have a great day and enjoy the colors of Fall. Winter is coming in for some of you there won't be much color to enjoy. Be well. Be blessed. And be a blessing to others.

Monday, October 11, 2010


Due to the poor economy and the loss of his job, Bob the Baptist was forced to move from his home in the Bible-belt to a suburban community that was predominantly Catholic. The all coexisted peacefully with no problems, until the Lent season arrived. While all of the Catholics were having fish for their meals, Baptist Bob would fill the neighborhood with the aroma of prime beef on the Bar-B-Que. So they all decided to work on converting him.
At the ceremony, the Bishop sprinkled water on Bob and declared; "You were born a Baptist. You were raised a Baptist. But now you are a Catholic."

All went well for the community. And the people were surprised the following lent, when the smells of beef on the grill filled the air. They all excitedly rushed to Bob's house to see what the problem was. The was Bob at the grill, sprinkling steaks with water and declaring;
"You were born a cow. You were raised a cow. But now you are a fish."

hve a great week.

Thursday, October 7, 2010


(November 4, 1916 – February 19, 1945) was a United States Marine Gunnery Sergeant who received the Medal of Honor for his actions at the Battle of Guadalcanal during World War II. He was the only enlisted Marine in World War II to receive both the Medal of Honor and the Navy Cross.

Basilone worked as a golf caddy for the local country club before joining the military. He enlisted in the United States Army and completed his three-year enlistment with service in the Philippines, where he was a champion boxer. Upon returning home, he worked as a truck driver in Reisterstown, Maryland. After driving trucks for a few months, he wanted to go back to Manila and believed he could get there faster as a Marine than in the Army. He enlisted in the Marines in July 1940 from Baltimore, Maryland and went to recruit training at Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island followed by training at Marine Corps Base Quantico and New River. The Corps sent him to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba for his next assignment and then to Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands as a member of 1st Battalion, 7th Marines, 1st Marine Division.

While on Guadalcanal, his fellow Marines gave him the nickname "Manila John" due to his former service in the Philippines and how much he talked about it. During the Battle for Henderson Field, his unit came under attack by a regiment of approximately 3,000 soldiers from the Japanese Sendai Division. On October 24, 1942, Japanese forces began a frontal attack using machine guns, grenades, and mortars against the American heavy machine guns. Basilone commanded two sections of machine guns that fought for the next two days until only Basilone and two other Marines continued fighting.  Basilone moved an extra gun into position and maintained continual fire against the incoming Japanese forces. He then repaired and manned another machine gun, holding the defensive line until replacements arrived. As battle raged, ammunition became critically low. With supply lines cut off, Basilone fought through hostile ground to resupply his gunners with urgently needed ammunition. By the end of the battle, the Japanese regiment was virtually annihilated. For his actions during this battle, he received the United States military's highest award for bravery, the Medal of Honor.

Afterwards, Private First Class Nash W. Phillips, of Fayetteville, North Carolina, recalled from the battle for Guadalcanal:
    "Basilone had a machine gun on the go for three days and nights without sleep, rest, or food. He was in a good emplacement, and causing the Japanese lots of trouble, not only firing his machine gun, but also using his pistol."

After his request to return to the fleet was approved, he was assigned to Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 27th Marine Regiment, 5th Marine Division during the invasion of Iwo Jima. On February 19, 1945 he was serving as a machine-gun section leader in action against Japanese forces on Red Beach II. During the battle, the Japanese concentrated their fire at the incoming Americans from heavily fortified blockhouses  staged throughout the island. With his unit pinned down, Basilone made his way around the side of the Japanese positions until he was directly on top of the blockhouse. He then attacked with grenades and demolitions, single handedly destroying the entire strongpoint and its defending garrison. He then fought his way toward Airfield Number 1 and aided an American tank that was trapped in an enemy mine field under intense mortar and artillery  barrages. He guided the heavy vehicle over the hazardous terrain to safety, despite heavy weapons fire from the Japanese. As he moved along the edge of the airfield, he was killed by Japanese mortar shrapnel. His actions helped Marines penetrate the Japanese defense and get off the landing beach during the critical early stages of the invasion. For his valor during the battle of Iwo Jima, he was posthumously approved for the Marine Corps' second highest decoration for bravery, the Navy Cross.

He was interred in Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington, Virginia and his grave can be found in Section 12, Grave 384, grid Y/Z 23.5. Lena M Basilone died June 11, 1999 at the age of 86 and was buried at Riverside National Cemetery. Lena's obituary notes that she never remarried.


His Medal of Honor citation, signed by President Franklin D. Roosevelt, reads:

The President of the United States in the name of The Congress takes pride in presenting the MEDAL OF HONOR to:



for service as set forth in the following CITATION:
Medal of Honour

    For extraordinary heroism and conspicuous gallantry in action against enemy Japanese forces, above and beyond the call of duty, while serving with the 1st Battalion, 7th Marines, 1st Marine Division in the Lunga Area. Guadalcanal, Solomon Islands, on 24 and 25 October 1942. While the enemy was hammering at the Marines' defensive positions, Sgt. Basilone, in charge of 2 sections of heavy machine guns, fought valiantly to check the savage and determined assault. In a fierce frontal attack with the Japanese blasting his guns with grenades and mortar fire, one of Sgt. Basilone's sections, with its guncrews, was put out of action, leaving only 2 men able to carry on. Moving an extra gun into position, he placed it in action, then, under continual fire, repaired another and personally manned it, gallantly holding his line until replacements arrived. A little later, with ammunition critically low and the supply lines cut off, Sgt. Basilone, at great risk of his life and in the face of continued enemy attack, battled his way through hostile lines with urgently needed shells for his gunners, thereby contributing in large measure to the virtual annihilation of a Japanese regiment. His great personal valor and courageous initiative were in keeping with the highest traditions of the U.S. Naval Service.

The President of the United States takes pride in presenting the NAVY CROSS posthumously to


for service as set forth in the following CITATION:
Navy Cross

    For extraordinary heroism while serving as a Leader of a Machine-Gun Section, Company C, 1st Battalion, 27th Marines, 5th Marine Division, in action against enemy Japanese forces on Iwo Jima in the Volcano Islands, 19 February 1945. Shrewdly gauging the tactical situation shortly after landing when his company's advance was held up by the concentrated fire of a heavily fortified Japanese blockhouse, Gunnery Sergeant Basilone boldly defied the smashing bombardment of heavy caliber fire to work his way around the flank and up to a position directly on top of the blockhouse and then, attacking with grenades and demolitions, single handedly destroyed the entire hostile strong point and its defending garrison. Consistently daring and aggressive as he fought his way over the battle-torn beach and up the sloping, gun-studded terraces toward Airfield Number 1, he repeatedly exposed himself to the blasting fury of exploding shells and later in the day coolly proceeded to the aid of a friendly tank which had been trapped in an enemy mine field under intense mortar and artillery barrages, skillfully guiding the heavy vehicle over the hazardous terrain to safety, despite the overwhelming volume of hostile fire. In the forefront of the assault at all times, he pushed forward with dauntless courage and iron determination until, moving upon the edge of the airfield, he fell, instantly killed by a bursting mortar shell. Stouthearted and indomitable, Gunnery Sergeant Basilone, by his intrepid initiative, outstanding skill, and valiant spirit of self-sacrifice in the face of the fanatic opposition, contributed materially to the advance of his company during the early critical period of the assault, and his unwavering devotion to duty throughout the bitter conflict was an inspiration to his comrades and reflects the highest credit upon Gunnery Sergeant Basilone and the United States Naval Service. He gallantly gave his life in the service of his country.


In addition to the honors bestowed to him from the Marine Corps a wide variety of non military institutions have also chosen their name based on Basilone. Some of these include: The football field at Bridgewater-Raritan High School  is called "Basilone Field", and on the wall of the fieldhouse next to the field is a mural honoring Basilone; the Knights of Columbus Council #13264 in his hometown is named in his honor;

An overpass at the Somerville Circle in Somerville, New Jersey on U.S. Highway 202 and 206 that goes under it; The New Jersey Turnpike bridge across the Raritan River is named the "Basilone Bridge"; The new Bridge  that crosses the Raritan River in Raritan at First Avenue and Canal Street; a memorial statue featuring him holding a water-cooled Browning machine gun is located at the intersections of Old York Road and Canal Street in Raritan, New Jersey. Childhood friend Phillip Orlando sculpted it; a plaque at the United States Navy Memorial in Washington, D.C.;  A bust in Little Italy San Diego at Fir and India Streets. The war memorial is dedicated to residents of Little Italy who served in WWII and Korea. The area is called Piazza Basilone;[21] Order Sons of Italy In America Lodge #2442 is named in honor of Basilone in Bohemia, New York.[22] The Raritan Public Library has the Basilone Room where they keep memorabilia about him.  In 1944, Army Barracks from Washington State were moved to a site in front of Hansen Dam in Pacoima, California and rebuilt as 1500 apartments for returning GI's. This development was named the Basilone Homes and was used until about 1955. The site is now a golf course.

Monday, October 4, 2010


You've heard the stories. They're everywhere. Elvis is alive and well. Who is buried in his grave? Well the truth of the matter is we are not sure. You see back in the early 70s Elvis decided to take the break from the  hoopla  of being the King of rock 'n roll. He launched into a full-scale search looking for a doppelgänger. It wasn't a problem the world was replete with Elvis impersonators. The problem was finding one that was completely believable. Elvis found him, and made a contract to agreement to change places with the impersonator. The king moved into a single wide trailer in tiny little town in West Virginia, while the impersonator went on tour.

The problem was, the impersonator had a drug problem, and wasn't as healthy as he had led the king to believe. The impersonator got fat and bloated, developed a heart condition and finally died. Coincidentally,  in a freak  barbecue accident, Elvis Trailer burned to the ground, and completely consume the contract. As far as the faithful were concerned, the king was dead.: That the contract the one true King was unable to claim his rightful place on the throne. So he went to work doing the only thing he knew how to do. Sing Elvis songs.

Well as time progressed, the King aged, his bones wore out and one night on stage he broke his hip. This accident landed him in a nursing home. The former king was now stripped of his pride, his dignity and his wealth.

If this was the end of the story, he would've made a horrible movie. But wait there's more. It just so happens that in that very same nursing home there is another famous person, who everybody believed to be dead. Coincidence? Or fate? The other person in a nursing home is John Fitzgerald Kennedy. But if you remember your American history you will recall, that for some strange reason, after the autopsy, Kennedy's body arrived in Washington DC, without his brain. As it turns out the CIA was behind the murder cover-up. And just to keep everybody from getting suspicious, and suspecting the swap out, they dyed his skin black and locked him away in this home also.

One more twist. For some unknown reason other patients in the nursing home are turning up dead. Something is not out of the ordinary. But, it is happening far too often. Then one night, strange things take place in the room occupied by the King. And he discovers that there is an ancient evil spirit, from a long dead Egyptian mummy that was accidentally dumped near the nursing home. And to sustain itself this evil spirit is sucking the life force from the old people in the home.
The King of rock 'n roll, and the Prince of Camelot team together to destroy the evil spirit. Can he do it in time to save themselves and the other members of the home? That is the plot line and the question to the movie  


this movie won critical acclaim and numerous awards. And I enjoyed it thoroughly. Mainly because I enjoy I  odd things.