10/11/2026
The next day I bought a peel-off sticker of the Kenpo Karate crest and went into Elvisâ office to show it to him and offer it up as a sort of peace offering. He wasnât there, so I sat down and noticed his black, high-gloss Gibson guitar sitting in the corner. The crest was black with a white background, and I knew it would look stunning on the guitar, so I carefully placed it on the Gibson. I smiled to myself, knowing that Elvis would probably
be upset when he first saw it, thinking I had defaced his prized guitar. I admired my handiwork for a few moments, then decided to reposition the sticker. I pulled at the edge and realized that this was a permanent sticker, not a peel-off reusable sticker. At that moment, I knew I was dead as a doornail. I tried again, knowing I had to be careful not to scratch the guitarâs surface. Panic was rising inside of me as I realized what I had done. âWhat are you
doing?â I heard Elvisâ voice behind me as he came down the stairs. I was in deep s**t. He was going to kill me. I was sure of it. âUm, nothing, Iâm not doing anything, man.â I sat the guitar down, standing it against the wall with
its face hidden. Elvis had a trace of a smile on his lips, knowing he had caught me in the middle of something, but still not sure what the nature of my activity was. âWhat are you doing?â he asked again, this time with a laugh. I knew I was busted. I might as well confess and take my medicine straight up, rather than trying to drag this out. âWell, I sort of ⊠you knowâŠâ I turned the guitar around so Elvis could see the sticker. âDavid!â he exclaimed, grabbing the guitar from my hands. But his excitement wasnât born of anger, as I had
expected. âThatâs great! Where did you get that?â Elvis was completely thrilled with the sticker, and it remained on his guitar. He even talked about it onstage, using it as an excuse to tell the adoring crowds about his passion for Kenpo Karate.
excerpt from the book "My Brother Elvis" by David Stanley