A lifetime ago. I was seven then. He was the age I am now, 42. And my mother was younger than I am now, as hard as that is to wrap my head around. The untimely, undignified, sadly unnecessary death of Elvis Presley, and Mom’s heartfelt, deeply wounded reaction to the news, remains one of the landmark moments in my developing awareness of the world around me, even after all this time.

And yet I’m not sure this anniversary has much relevance any more. Not the way it used to, even as recently as just a decade ago. Elvis still has legions of fans, and they still gather every year at his home in Memphis to hold vigil and pay tribute… but unlike, say, Marilyn Monroe, whose image remains as omnipresent as it ever was, if not moreso, it doesn’t seem to me like we see or hear much about the King of Rock and Roll anymore. I accepted some time ago that pop-cultural icons don’t endure the way we fans expect or desire them to — talking about the once universally beloved Star Wars these days seems to inevitably lead to an argument, and even the mighty Star Trek franchise has receded from the public consciousness, something I wouldn’t have thought possible during its heyday in the ’90s — but I am truly surprised that Elvis has lost his pre-eminence in the zeitgeist. It could be a failure of marketing — maybe the owners of Marilyn’s likeness push a lot harder? — but I suspect it’s something more organic. Possibly all those years of bad-taste fat-Elvis jokes and ridiculous impersonators have blotted out the cultural memories of who he really was, and why he once excited us. Maybe it’s something more ineffable. Whatever the reason, though, Marilyn’s image (if not her actual work or personality) resonates with younger folks whereas Elvis’ does not.

Or at least that’s how it seems to me. I could be completely wrong on this. I admit I’m not nearly as plugged into this stuff as I used to be, and the mass culture we all used to share has atomized to the point where it’s easy to miss out on things if you’re not following the right newsfeeds. Nevertheless, I have this nagging sense that Graceland may ultimately meet the same fate as the Roy Rogers Museum, which closed a few years ago because attendance had dwindled as Roy’s core fans aged out and passed on. I don’t entirely understand how something like that can happen, given how popular that man once was. Why does an artist like Frank Sinatra transcend the generations and continue more or less in perpetuity, but not someone else who was (arguably) more popular — or at least as popular — in his day? (Nothing against Sinatra, he’s just a good example of an artist who’s endured long after his contemporaries have been forgotten.)

Am I wrong about this? Either way, I’m thinking more and more that I should make the effort to take my mom on a pilgrimage to Memphis before too many more years pass…