My dad had spent some quality time in the South at various jobs, but I had never been there. We immediately agreed to travel to Idaho via Tennessee and Texas. We had one major stop planned in Tennessee--Graceland.

My friend Dan from college sold me on Graceland. He had traveled there in December, the month before Elvis's birthday (Jan. 8), and reported back with tales of weeping fans and complete and total kitsch. I couldn't wait.

My dad and I arrived in late December, and the entire place was dressed for Christmas. It cost nearly $20 a person to get it, but I wasn't going to balk at the price. I had to see it. (I see the going rate for 2003 is $25 a person.)

The tour wasn't at all what I expected. The house was modest by today's standards. The kitchen with its avacado appliances could be found in any suburban neighborhood. The kitsch was readily apparent in the fuzzy furniture and loud choice of colors. It was classic 70s chic. In fact, they warn you before you walk in that you will be entering a house decorated in the 70s.

The tour is conducted entirely by headset, and it starts with Elvis's meager beginnings and dirt poor childhood. As you move through the house, you follow Elvis's improbable rise to fame. The tour ends in his racketball building where he was found dead in August of 1977.

I've got no particular soft spot for Elvis, but after touring his house and seeing his kitchen, his clothes, and even his racketball courts, you start to like the guy. You feel like you might know him. I still thought the 30-something fans crying at his grave where taking it to a new level, but I gave them their space.

Given the extremely high quality of the tour and the masterful way it's conducted, it's no surprise that Graceland is a hyper-successful empire. They capitalize on everything Elvis did, owned, or created in his short lifetime. You can pay another $20 to see his airplanes, cars, or even view his home movies, and they play Elvis's music throughout the compound and the tour. (Yeah, we bought a few tapes before leaving.)

Everything is for sale, but somehow they managed to hold a few things back to keep it interesting. The NY Times ran a story on Sunday on Elvis's wardrobe. Turns out the archives at Graceland have been saving numerous suits, stage costumes, and even some muddy boots for use in an upcoming book. Elvis broke many taboos with his music and stage presence - mixing musical styles and (shock!) dancing on stage, but he also broke some taboos in fashion as well:

"One of the really important ways in which he influenced fashion is that he bought his clothes at Lansky's," explained Ann Powers, the senior curator at the Experience Music Project in Seattle, referring to the landmark Memphis haberdashery whose clientele in the 1950's was primarily black. Ms. Powers said that Elvis was "a white man dressing in black people's clothing," just as he was a white man adapting black music to his own use.

Beyond that, he was a highly singular white man who chose for himself the most extravagant of raiment, garments that, Ms. Powers suggested, flouted not merely the unwritten dress codes of segregation but migrated freely across the boundaries of sex. It was Elvis's hip swiveling, but also his pink clothes, his voluminous trousers and his eyeshadow that armed critics with what they called "evidence" of his power to destroy the morals of American youth.