The Number One Reason: Elvis
Frank was amazed at the trouble I would go to in order to buy an Elvis Presley record, getting a ride with someone down to a supermarket in Pomona (because they wouldn't carry Elvis records in Claremont back then, not at THOSE record stores, not til Jay Doty moved in long about .... whenever) and me going through the bins near the produce, only to discover the one I wanted wasn't there, and ordering the record from the near illiterate hick who worked as a supermarket clerk, who couldn't spell Elvis Presley right: He spelled it "Alvis Prestley" on the order slip, but still the record arrived and I would buy it a week later.
And he'd hear stories of how all the black girls in the drug store counter in Compton would break into dance, hold hands and dance with each other when "All Shook Up" came out the little jukebox on the counter. Bobbysoxers. And the white lady serving coca colas to us all didn't seem to mind, not a bit.
And Frank maybe liked all the things about Elvis that I did. The Milton Berle show. The Steve Allen Show. (We'd make sure in our house to watch those shows on television!) The fact Elvis was censored on Louisiana Hayride (which we had only heard about) and he would wiggle his little finger suggestively as a taunt. The fact he had to borrow a belt. The way he'd stick up for people ... when he grew rich and would buy a Cadillac on a whim, almost everywhere he stopped, he'd get a caddy for one of his friends or family members, and the Cadillac dealer would treat him and his friends like shit, and Elvis would get pissed off and say, "I'm gonna buy one for that old black Daddy over there!" And Elvis would! He's buy a Cadillac and give it to the old black man! just to teach the Cadillac dealer a lesson. And the way Elvis would rent a movie theater for an evening out, just so he and his friends could watch a movie together. Elvis was devoted to his mother in particular, and named his mansion after her. And as he grew rich he bought his parents a car first and later bought them a house. All these reasons, you see.
(And as I was streamed into college prep science classes, I would be so jealous that Roger (son of a physics professor in town), who had a speech impediment and so his name was "Woger", would be the one selected from all the kids in our science class to assemble in a larger group of science class top notches to go back East on a specially funded trip to MIT to see the cool new game they'd invented there, because I wanted to play tennis on screen, too. And I'd sometimes share my disappointments, not whine or moan exactly, but it seemed so unfair .. the same kids always won everything, it seemed.)