I had mapped out our route very carefully to include the thrift stores, the pet store and the grocery. We were out for bargains this morning, not to waste the precious gas we had put in the tank. At over $4.00 a gallon, we had to be careful on how we used it. Pure liquid gold!

As we cleared the top of the exit ramp and began our descent, there they were. Seriously ugly and standing somewhat straight. Ah yes! Springtime in Ohio means the proliferation of the dreaded orange construction barrels. During the horrid winter months, they are squirreled away in the highway garage where they make the most of the time and breed. Two barrels can mate together and make a thousand by springtime to vex the patience of even the most even tempered driver. The traffic slowed and it took forever to make it to the county line where we hoped we would be free to use a little speed.

No.

It just wasn't to be! The next county also had an obvious breeding problem with the barrels. The trip that should have taken just over 30 minutes stretched to nearly an hour. To say we were just a bit upset is a gross understatement. We wanted to go dammit! Get out of the way!

We talked about swerving over just a little bit and taking a few of them out along the way but we didn't. Obviously though, at some point in time, a few drivers had done just that. Several of the barrels were dented and smashed in on the sides. Too bad they hadn't been given a proper burial.

We reached the one place we both wanted to make sure to visit. On a previous trip, we had encountered the Plaster Elvis. Such beauty it had that it had been given a place of honor near the front of the store, proudly displayed on top of a glass showcase. We parked and hurried inside in anticipation.

Sadly, we discovered that Elvis had left the building. There was now a display of old video tapes in the sacred spot where he once greeted customers. We briefly wondered what collector of weird assed "art" had purchased such a stunning masterpiece. Then the laughter came and it just wouldn't stop. Since we were attracting unwanted attention from other shoppers and the cashier, we beat it to the book racks and continued our speculation as we rifled through the selections. We rescued some books and some dvds and made our way out into the rest of the store.

Nothing else caught our attention so we went to the cashier to pay. She was looking at us rather oddly and we could tell she was burning to know what we had been laughing at earlier. I arched my eyebrow at her and innocently asked what happened to the Plaster Elvis.

Seems as though Elvis had met with an accident when the shop was being cleaned one night. The King had been knocked from his throne on top of the case and had lost a large portion of his face. The cashier then made the statement "No one would want him like that so we had to throw him out." We nodded in silence, finished paying, and nearly ran for the damned door.

No one would want him like that?

Like what? Semi immortalized in plaster? Broken? Or did she mean ugly?

Unknowingly, someone was spared a lifetime of ridicule of having that hideous thing in their home.

I now believe in miracles.

It will be hard for me to think of Elvis as the handsome man he was in his youth. Instead, that horrible piece of homemade ugliness will forever be burned into my brain.

RIP Elvis.