Cavorting sullenly before Hollywood cameras last week, Sexhibitionist Elvis Presley got all shook up by his pelvic pulsations, dislodged a cap prettifying one of his teeth, inhaled the bit of porcelain into a lung. While thousands of bobby-soxers fretted next day over the voice that was stilled, surgeons removed the object with forceps and bronchoscope.
It was just one of those minor disasters that pave the way to greatness, and Elvis had plenty of material consolations for his pain. For his antics in his third film,
Jailhouse Rock, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer will pay him an unheard-of $250,000 plus 50% of the net profits. This gives him a clear shot at coining the most money ever earned by a star on a single film. Moreover, just to keep Elvis rocking contentedly, M-G-M also tossed to Elvis Presley Music. Inc. the handling of the movie's sheet music and disks, provided an executive suite in its studios for Elvis and his menage of mentors, flacks and professional pals.
But was Elvis really happy? Sensing the sadness that lurked behind Millionaire Presley's pout, the New York Herald Tribune's keen-nosed Joe Hyams asked for an interview, was invited by to watch Elvis eat a modest lunch (a bowl of gravy, a bowl of mashed potatoes, nine slices of crisp bacon, a quart of milk, a big glass of tomato juice, lettuce salad, six slices of bread, four pats of butter).
Q. Do you plan to be a power for good and direct some of your fans' energy into useful channels, such as combatting juvenile delinquency? A. Juvenile delinquency isn't wearing long hair and a leather jacket . . . I never thought of using my power in a.good way . . . I've just been taking everything as it comes. Q. Do you feel secure yet as an entertainer? A. Man, I'll tell you I don't know. I'm not sure whether I've got it made. Q. Have you everything you want now? A. No, I'll tell you one thing. I sometimes get lonely as hell! Q. According to reports, you've chosen some remarkable parts of the human anatomy to sign autographs.* A. That's not true. I've written on arms, legs and anklesany place decent where someone can take soap and wash it off . . . I don't want no daddy with a shotgun after me! Q. What part does Colonel Tom Parker [Presley's managerial mastermind] play in your career? A. I've got an idea of how to handle me better than anyone else has as far as keeping me in line. Colonel Parker is more or less like a daddy when I'm away from my own folks.
*Scores of brassieres are rumored to bear part of Elvis' signature, implying that his pen slipped.