Several things can go through the brain of an attractive woman when she is standing in a top secret compound underneath Graceland having just killed Elvis Presley. I must admit to my chagrin that “Yessss!” was the main thought. It is very rare that one of you most hated icons actually comes back to life just so you can dispose of them.

It was Crispian’s jibbering that broke me out of my reverie. As we ran though the cold Tennessee air it was clear that on foot we were not going to get anywhere. It was at that point I decided to double back to Graceland to see if there was a vehicle which would suit us more. Apparently Crispian is a fine driver, having seen Bullitt five times, and so given a half decent car we could clear half of this now problematic country in one night.

In Graceland’s back yard I found exactly what we were after. Another of those black glassed, black heavy, black cars. It was very black. It was also locked. However the wallet I had lifted from Elvis also contained some ID, and some keys which seemed to fit perfectly. We jumped into what could only be described as the Elvismobile, and Crispian sped off. Straight into a wall. It would appear that watching car chases in movies was no substitute for proper actual learning.

I put the monkey boy in the back and took over the driving myself. And put three states between us and the Corpse Of Rock’n’Roll before I stopped.

CYNDI LAUPER – I Drove All Night

There is a brief period in a persons life, usually just after someone has passed there driving test, when driving is actively fun. The rest of the time it is a bit of a chore. Something we do to get from A to B. Now I am not saying that Cyndi is necessary being inconsistent when she said “girls just want to have fun” and that “she drive all night”. I am just pointing out that by her own logic, driving all night is something girls really don’t want to do, and certainly something the rest of us don’t want to hear a miserable song about.

The song was written for Roy Orbison, who turned it down. So not only is this Roy’s sloppy seconds made by some chipmunk lady, but when he heard how bad Cyndi’s version was Roy repented. He (wrongly) believed that no song should be done quite so badly, so then agreed to record it to wipe the stench of Cyndi’s version out. It did not work of course, all a cover version does is give us another version to hate, but I suppose it was an honourable idea.

As for Cyndi – any woman with hair more than three colours is TRYING TOO HARD. Any woman who is happy to embrace the tag kooky is in trouble from the get go. She drove all night? I’m not surprised. To get away from the rampant crowds baying for her blood.