Excerpt from Rock 'n Roll 4Ever:
The King was in a bad mood, a rare state of being for a guy who usually reeked of hokey country optimism. Jonas had no idea what was putting a kink in El's knickers, either. He hadn't seen El this upset since, well... ever. Of all of Jonas' "special friends," as his dad had called them, El was usually the most upbeat.
Maybe his skintight rhinestone-and-polyester jumpsuit was giving him a wedgie.
The pallor of El's skin made the pitch black of his pompadour and lamb chop sideburns all the more stark by comparison. He tore a silk scarf from around his neck and twisted it in his hands as he stalked back and forth across the length of Jonas' living room. His red silk-lined cape, emblazoned with a tremendous, glittering rhinestone eagle, flapped with each turn he made. Every so often, he'd stop, glare darkly, and stab a finger in Jonas' direction before resuming his pacing. He didn't say anything, which was extremelyunusual. El usually had diarrhea of the mouth, jabbering on about everything from the culinary superiority of peanut butter-and-banana sandwiches to the latest inductees into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Jonas shrugged, and gave up trying to figure out what bug had crawled up El's blue suede bottom. He'd discovered early on that the ghosts of Rock and Roll Past craved attention, and that his disinterest usually irritated them enough to fade out in a sulk. Bad for them, good for Jonas... it meant a few hours of peace and quiet for him.
El seemed less than inclined to let Jonas get away with it this time. "You can'tsell it!" he roared, slamming a ham-sized fist onto the dining table. Luckily for Jonas' wallet, El's hand passed right through the wood, leaving the table mercifully intact. The last thing Jonas needed was to have to buy new furniture because of a ghostly tantrum. "That car is a piece of American history on wheels, boy!"
Ah, so that's what had El's ducktail in a dither. He'd overheard Jonas talking about selling his '59 Cadillac convertible. Jonas could understand El's reaction -- the car had been in Jonas' family since it rolled off the assembly line in '59, passed down from father to son for three generations.
Along with an ever-growing assortment of not-so-living-and-breathing music legends.
The car, he loved. The dead rock stars, he could do without.