“When I was four years old, I apparently had a fascination with Elvis Presley. I would always mention to my parents that Elvis came to visit me, sing to me, and watch me play. They just played along.
One day, my mom was going through some old photos and found a picture of my grandfather. He died when she was little. She showed me his portrait and guitar that was in an old case. In the picture, he was a teenager with the 50s greased curl, dreamy eyes, and an oval face. I said, ‘It’s Elvis’ and pointed to the picture.”