We're stars and the sky belongs to stars

Today is the 49th anniversary of The Day the Music Died, which if you didn't know isn't just a lyric from the Don McLean song, but in fact is the day that a small plane crashed outside of Clear Lake, Iowa while carrying The Big Bopper, Richie Valens and Buddy Holly to a show in Fargo, North Dakota.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, if Buddy Holly wouldn't have been killed in this crash he would have been recognized as the true King of Rock and Roll, and yes I still believe that Elvis just sang cheap shitty pop songs . . . like a one man N Sync of the day, but with more sequins and fried peanut and bannaner sammiches.

So going to Graceland (speaking of, wanna see what the off limits, no tourists upstairs of Graceland looks like?) for 'Boomers or Elvis fans in general is the equivalent of going to Justin-Timberlake-Land for a kid in High School now.

Yeah I said it. Think about it, you know it's true.