Days that we remember, events imprinted on our memory. I was driving to visit a friend in the hospital -- actually the brother of a girlfriend -- who had broken his arm. I was 19, driving a 1976 Mercury Cougar...not that it matters... on the radio I heard of the death of Elvis Presley. Not that I was a big Elvis fan. I knew the movies, but his music was more my older brother's thing. Still in all, I remember the date...August 16,1977, 34 years ago, today.