Elvis has left the building.

Another day at sea, thus not much to report so I was just musing (a lower level than thinking).My Crocodile Dundee story reminded me of one of my favorite social service stories. I almost feel guilty with all these extravagant meals telling food pantry stories. The trouble with social service stories are that they are a little like undertaker humor, it is probably only funny to other undertakers.  Many of those we dealt with had mental health issues – which is nice way of saying they were crazy as a bed bug.  I do remember one time when “Elvis” sideburns, sunglasses and I believe he even had his guitar - came in looking for a bus ticket back to Tennessee. He was going home to make a comeback.  You don’t get that many laughs providing food and rent to people who are struggling - so the staff, me included, was having a pretty good time with this. “Elvis” apparently had not been sleeping in Heartbreak Hotel or at any other indoor facility for quite a while as he was a little odorous – well, let’s be honest, you could smell him from about two rooms away. We also had bathing facilities available for the homeless which we highly encouraged him to take advantage of as a kindness to his upcoming bus mates. We provided him with soap, shampoo and clean clothes from our store and sent him to the showers. I was doing a pretty good job of keeping the laughter in check until he turned on the shower, and even through the closed door, we could hear him bellowing at the top of his lungs, and definitely off key,   “You Ain’t Nothing but a Hound Dog.”  That was when we knew Elvis had not risen from the grave – it had only smelled that way. See I warned you, undertaker humor.