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(or Last One out of the Bathroom Leave the Light on and Crack the Door)

An odd phenomenon occurs to a performer on long tours of one-nighters. One's subconscious mind doesn't quite recall what hotel room one is in when he or she wakes up. Walking into a wall while still half-asleep is common, because your mind thinks you are still in the last city's hotel and room. The subconscious mind really should have its own subconscious mind to compensate for the weary traveler's habit of sleeping two or three hours in one room, travelling to another one (or two) that same day, dealing with jet-lag and lack of solid sleep for weeks. I learned at an early age, as did anyone who began performing in their teens to leave the room's hall light on, and if that was too bright or did not exist at all, to leave the bathroom light on and leave the door slightly cracked open. Many of us laughed at ourselves... (some oddballs even think this is Fun!)... for sometimes waking after a nap in a new room to the sound of an alarm and wondering, "Where am I?" and much worse… the dreadful "Who am I?".  You know you're exhausted when you awaken to think you probably exist, but don't have the foggiest idea of who you are! It actually can take a second to remember your name! Then the "why am I here?" kicks in. This perhaps is what a newborn infant thinks after taking his/her first breath?

Now! Elvis occasionally had the "Happys" as I called it, when things were going well during his exciting comeback in the '70s, and he took to diving... yes... diving into bed rather than crawling in like a normal person. The night that the following incident occurred, he had a case of the "Happys".

When we reached our new "very temporary home" this night, it was... as usual, quite late. (Somewhere around three or four in the morning). But... he was extremely excited about the concert and a new musical number that had really worked. We talked for a while about how great everything had gone, then at last began to drift off to sleep. I guess nature called and he went to the bathroom, but forgot to leave the light on. Upon his return he attempted a swan dive, but not being able to see and thinking he was in the last hotel room earlier that morning, also forgot this bed was on a pedestal... and... had tall posts. They got in his way.

The "Boom-Clunk-Thud" clamor was bad enough, but it was followed by "Oh, No! Not again, Gawddammit!" and hysterical laughter coming from him. This all jarred me straight up as if a bomb had gone off. Also, his dive attempt was on the wrong side of the bed. Yes... my side. He crash landed on my legs and feet after tripping on the pedestal and smashing into the post. We stared at each other in shocked, sleepy bewilderment as we attempted to find and untangle ourselves, and "feel" the side of the bed each belonged on.

As he was laughing at himself and telling me he had done this before, I realized he had a  nose-bleed but no cuts. I became a bit frantic hollering, "Lie down! No… keep your head up, but lie back! Let me see if you're alright!" I could see he wouldn't need stitches or anything, but said quickly, "Stay here... I'll get a cold, wet towel!" I immediately jumped out of bed to retrieve the towel... but... No... No! I didn't remember the pedestal was there, and... well... I couldn't see a dratted thing in my hazy fog... so... I smashed into the corner of the wall as I slipped off that darn pedestal. Uh Huh! 

"Kathy!!!... Ya' alright? Ya' okay honey?!!!"

"Uh huh... I'm Okay! Just a little bump on my forehead!" I mumbled from the floor. "Lie down! Be quiet! You're bleeding... I'm not!" Now the laughter began to get out of control as I returned cold, wet towel in hand. "The light is Now On!", I exclaimed sarcastically shaking my head. He, of course, continued to laugh so hard, which made me laugh when I didn't want to, so I finally raised my voice. "It won't stop bleeding if you keep this up!" He tried so hard to stop, but kept laughing while trying not to... trying to laugh without making a sound. (One makes very odd sounds while laughing through one's nose.)You've probably heard that "hold-it-in-laugh"  he had on some of the outtakes played on the radio today.

Once I got him to stop laughing, the bleeding stopped and we had just begun to try to sleep again... for ONE SECOND.

"There you go again! Stop laughing! It'll start to bleed again! What are you laughing at now?"

His reply was a silly, "If we both get black eyes later today, I can just see the headlines. Our secret romance will be OUT! I can see the headlines now! (all this conversation had intermittent laughter of many types one can imagine. I can't type those sounds out). "Elvis Presley and Girl Singer's Physical Fight!... Attack Leads to Black Eyes. Haaaaaaaaaaaaa. "Ohhhh, Lord! Honey... it would all be public then. Hmmmmphhh haaaaaaaaa!" I chimed in, "Elvis Beaten Up by Girl singer!"

Well, we couldn't stop laughing for quite a while. Finally... just as we both began to quiet down, I noticed dawn breaking. "Is the pool open yet, ya think?" I asked.

"I don't know. Why?" he responded.

"I'm going down and stealing the "No Diving Allowed" sign to carry everywhere!" I chimed.

Guess I ruined any chance for sleep for at least another half hour. Just impossible to stop laughing when one is trying so hard to do that, isn't it? Neither of us had black eyes or any noticeable bruises the next day either.  Whew!  We two fools were a tad hoarse from the "Happys" exhaustion and  just found it difficult to look at each other without... you know... laughing.

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