I may have mentioned before that when I was 12 or so, around then give or take a year or two, I was OBSESSED with Elvis. Listened to the songs all the time, read the biographies, learned what quaaludes are, because he used to take them by the handful, and wished I was Priscilla Presley even though she was straight up a child when Elvis fell in love with her on that army base. I was also fascinated by how bloated Elvis became. Apparently it took several men to lift him from the bathroom when they found him dead. And rigor mortis had already set in.

I was afraid of Gladys and her thick ankles, terrified of the Colonel, worried about Vernon, and desperately wished my dad was cool enough to be in the Presley mafia.

Elvis and I are no longer close. But we never broke up. Amazing the attachments you keep for the things that you latched onto during those years.

Anyway, this is Benjamin Keough, Elvis's grandson, son of Lisa Marie, and brother of Riley. Look at his face. The Elvis is SO strong in his face. Just as it is in his mother's face. Those heavy eyes, the full lips, the thick cheeks. The bloodline is unmistakable. Those genes are strong.

I don't know why Benjamin is in London. Not sure what he was doing at the Ritz. And I kinda don't want to. But I do. In the same way I don't really want to know, but I do, about Michael Jackson's children. It's hard though, from the perspective of someone, anyone really, who lives by pop culture, not to see these faces and wonder about their origins, question what they know, be curious about what they've been privy to, the secrets they could tell. How often does he think about his grandfather? Has he looked through all his things? The things that are not offered on display at Graceland, if they actually held back anything from Graceland...? I've never been to Graceland. What kind of an Elvis fan am I?

Photos from Bauergriffinonline.com