The King is dead? Stone me

Standing the test of time in the world of popular culture, where obsolescence comes built in, is no mean feat. And time is no respecter of persons, even the truly great. So it would appear in the fickle fandoms of 2017 that the posthumous popularity of Elvis is plummeting. Is nothing sacred? I can’t say, though I am indeed a fan full of burnin’ love, that he is always on my mind but I’m all shook up to realise that he’s featuring in a little less conversation across the generations. OK, that’s it with the song titles, I promise. I had big plans for Jailhouse Rock and Return to Sender but I couldn’t do a thing with American Trilogy.

But for heaven’s sake, people, the man’s only been dead for 40 years and he’s had a pretty good run in these ephemera-obsessed times. He even made a legendary comeback during his lifetime so he knew all about appealing to a new audience. And at least we’re still talking about him.

Even the deceased Mozart went through a period when he couldn’t get arrested. Vivaldi was out of favour for centuries before the 1950s and now you can’t move for Glorias and Four Seasons and Nigel Kennedy sawing away all over the shop.

And these days, you can’t turn round without falling over comeback concerts, re-emerging artists, neverbeen-away-but-now-back-in-thelimelight-because-my-music-was-usedin-an-advert gigs and jukebox musicals from Dreamboats and Petticoats to Mamma Mia! And The Rat Pack? They’ve just never been away.

Of course, there are Elvis shows and tributes all over the shop, too but perhaps that’s what our hero needs – a new stage spectacular to introduce him to the one third of young adults who have allegedly never heard an Elvis song. Title might be difficult of course. The (Lion) King is already taken.

And not just to let the yoof of today hear what they’re missing. The wonderful Mr Presley is Dame Kiri te Kanawa’s favourite singer, apparently, if you’re looking for endorsements from those who know what they’re talking about.

Think of a pop star of today who’ll still be going in 40 years’ time. I can’t even name one, let alone the line-up of One Direction (and they’re already passe). But then, most contemporary beat combos are not aiming their oeuvre at the likes of me. Although when they’re playing fully-orchestrated instrumental versions of Queen, Paul McCartney and even the ever-cool David Bowie on Classic FM, you know that there might just be hope for the future and that cross-over has come full circle. If you know what I mean.

I wonder what they’ll be listening to in 2057?

I bet it’s Mozart. Or Elvis… Avocado Americano PS. Following last week’s musings on the advantages of alcohol for general good health and the lack of certain desirable edibles in the delis and stores of this great nation, I was intrigued to discover that an establishment in Melbourne, Australia, has started a trend by serving coffee in avocado rinds.

Well, that explains the shortage of avocados. Those pesky coffee shops are panic buying them, snapping them up en masse, scooping them out and serving lattes and Americanos in the pathetic little flabby shells.

There may be advantages of course. Unless the growers start injecting the things with growth hormones or nuclear particles, no avocado I’ve ever come across is going to be able to hold the lakes of coffee that you get when you rashly order anything designated “large”. I’m a caffeine addict and I can’t finish the damned things. Who drinks that much coffee?

I can’t even hold the container properly. It’s very off-putting to be presented with not so much a coffee cup and a teaspoon as a bucket and a ladle.

How the avocado advocates will handle the “to go” market I do not know. The burning question must be how the hell do you hold them so you don’t scald your important little places while attempting to sip them on the move.

There is, I understand, an increasingly prevalent (in a First World kind of way) medical complaint known as “avocado hand” where the sufferer has come to grief attempting to get the stone out of the tricky little fruit. So much so that there have been calls for safety labels to be stuck on them.

Just imagine the mayhem to be found in our already beleaguered A&Es if people presented with “avocado lap”, “avocado leg”, “avocado foot” or “avocado the entire person unfortunate enough to be walking past when you tripped over the kerb and showered them with skinny latte.”

Full of healthful, good fats avocados may be and a boon and a blessing to veggie dieters. But with boiling liquid in the mix, it’s a bit of a drastic way, let’s face it, to lose a stone

I’m all shook up to realise that he’s featuring in a little less conversation

As Elvis’s popularity plummets, avocados are everywhere. It’s a funny old world, says Helen.