Seth Godin’s writing prompt today was to write about something that happened on the day, date we were born. For me that’s October 15, 1955.

The Cotton Club - October 15, 1955

Some 55 plus years ago my mother was going into labor with me, her first child, just as the King of Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley, was headed into a club/dance hall in Lubbock, Texas called “The Cotton Club.” Elvis wasn’t the King then. He was just another happy-go-lucky singer booked at a small town club in West Texas.

The club was technically located in Slaton, about 15 miles outside of Lubbock on Highway 84. Like many now forgotten club owners of the 50’s, Lubbock native Ralph Lowe and his family booked up-and-coming or famous music acts at the club. He made a living combining dreams, singers, food and fun. Elvis was one of those up and comers destined for fame. Ralph didn’t realize it, but I think his daughter did.

According to ElvisPresleyMusic.com, Ralph’s daughter, Pat, worked at the club after school. She’d fix sandwiches for the customers and talk to the talent - including Elvis. One night she and Elvis played Tic/Tac/Toe on one of the club’s white tablecloths. Ralph got angry, had it washed, and then took .75 cents from Elvis’ check that night to pay for the laundering. That tablecloth today, unwashed, would bring hundreds of thousands of dollars - but Ralph wasn’t thinking of the future. He was worried about clean table-cloths. If he saved every table cloth every would-be rock star scribbled on over the years he might have gone broke, but he’d have been investing in his future for sure. I wonder how many times he told the story of the table-cloth after Elvis became famous. Just the thought of it makes me smile.

Pat got it. She not only knew Elvis was special, she understood that others recognized it too. So she let Buddy Holly, Mac Davis and others slip in thru the kitchen to see Elvis perform. Ralph had no idea how famous Elvis would become - who knew really? What did Pat see in Buddy, Mac and others?

Anyway, while Elvis was scribbling on table cloths and playing for music lovers in West Texas, I was being born. In the scheme of things I guess you could say, “So what?” But if you look back and think about it, you’ll see that no one knows who will rise from humble beginnings to do things that will change the world or how our paths will cross.

Years after I was born in Miami, Florida my parents would move to Memphis, Tennessee and I would attend grade school where I would be taught by a grade-school teacher who claimed to have taught Elvis in the fourth grade. She would tell her students not only that she had taught Elvis, but that ALL of us had the potential to be as famous as he was. She believed that we were all rock stars - even before there was a name for it. And we believed her.

Later, after a series of moves around the state, my mother would go on to meet Priscilla Presley in the local grocery store. I became a huge Elvis fan, watching every movie, learning every song as I grew up. Years later my parents would buy tickets to and attend Elvis’ last concert - his last performance before he died. I wasn’t anything special. I just recognized, as Pat did, that Elvis was different - that HE was special. And I would remember what Miss Bruce had said - that any of us could be famous.

I picked this to write about today because I realize that it’s really, really, really rare for anyone to know how famous, how important, how instrumental to changing their world a person will be when they’re born, when they’re starting a new band, a new business, or writing their first book. We just don’t know. If anyone had known Steve Jobs, homeless and couch surfing his way around college and taking calligraphy classes in his teens would have gone on to the Apple fame he has today do you really think they would have bitched about him taking up space on their sofa?

In 2006 when I was homeless in Denver and a small video crew from Yahoo showed up to film me for their show, “Hook Me Up,” and give me a lap-top computer that would change my world - did any of us ever really know, dream or believe I’d be speaking at TED Global three years later? No.

So what happens if we treat everyone as though they were the next Elvis? What happens if we believe that we’re all capable of more than we are at any given time? Fame takes years to build, but appears to happen in an instant. In that instant everything changes - who values us, who are our friends are, what our story is. What happens if you treat everyone like a rock star and THEN one day they are? Can you change the world by that one simple act? If Ralph had trusted his instincts - that Elvis would be famous one day - and had saved that tablecloth, how would he have changed his life or the story about who Elvis was (playing tic-tac-toe on a tablecloth with a club owner’s young daughter?).

I’m reminded of the story of Andy Warhol’s napkin. He drew several butterflies on a restaurant napkin - one with food stains. It was appraised, and said if certified would sell at auction for $20 - $30,000. Who knew?

I know that over the years people have approached me with newspaper articles, t-shirts, photos I’ve taken and printed, and yes - even a napkin or two, and asked me to autograph them. We laugh about how much money it will bring if I’m ever really famous - like J.K. Rowling famous. But they’re serious. They see something others don’t. And they’re willing to hold onto things like tablecloths, napkins, newspaper articles and photos. Do you have people in your life who believe in you like that? Shouldn’t you? What about your friends? Do you treat them as though they might be the next big deal? Why not?

I may never be famous, nor will you, or anyone we know. But what if we are? What if we change the world? What if you know someone who goes on to change the world? Wouldn’t you want to be one of the folks who could honestly say, “I knew her/him when,” and then pull out that tablecloth, that t-shirt, that photo album of the two of you? NOT for the money - but for the memory. Not for the associated fame, but for the satisfaction of knowing you knew before anyone else that this person had something special. I guarantee you that if you treat everyone like a the next greatest rock star, you’ll be right one day.