As in days of old he strolled across the stage, guitar in hand, and you could feel the memories float through the hall bringing back the 1950s.

The girls, mostly in their thirties now, didn't scream as loudly as in the old days, nor as shrilly, but they still made sounds to show they loved their hero.

AND STANDING there taking it all in was Elvis Presley, the ex-truck driver, ex-Army sergeant, ex-teen idol and boy wonder.

Looking at the sea of faces, the kids with clean-cut dress and hair, with just a touch of mod to the clothes; the mothers and fathers holding their children's hands in the crowd; the bawdy concession hollerers in working clothes; the grandmothers with their daughters, it was apparent that he still had the name that could sell out road shows.

Elvis, with bell bottoms now instead of the old pegs of the 1950s, and hair a little longer, sang the old songs he does so well.

In the old days he couldn't get a note out before screams would drown out everything. And guards were around to fight off screamers who wanted to tear off his clothes.

BUT NOW. in his bell bottoms, he stood behind only about 10 policemen, and after an intial wave of shrieking, the crowd would allow him to sing, and they would listen.

In the old days, in the role of a great sex symbol to millions, he was serious on stage. He sang his songs and retreated behind his guards.

But now, he laughed, joked, clowned, imitated other singers and even rolled on the stage for effect.

It was middle America's day. A day to remember how things used to be. Or at least to remember how they used to seem.

A MAN OF about 45, who brought his teenage daughters, stomped his feet to the tune of "Don't Be Cruel," and shouted "give it to 'em Elvis, do it," while his daughters remained calmed.

It was as if he was vindicating himself... showing that the "old man" was, and could still be hip. He'd been with it, he knew "Heartbreak Hotel" by heart.

The band was from Las Vegas, where Elvis was appearing until four days ago. The tour is doing well, with capacity crowds. More than 7,000 attended the matinee performance at Curtis Hixon Hall. Last night was a sellout.

But he bands the kids listen to today don't go to Las Vegas, just like Elvis and his band didn't go to Woodstock.

For a few fleeting moments yesterday it seemed to be a decade ago and Elvis brought a roar of approval as belted out "You ain't Nothing But a Hound Dog," amid a sea of flashbulbs attached to instamatics.

AND, LIKE that famous hound dog, Snoopy, Elvis was hanging in there.

But nobody ripped at his clothes. Nobody even tried. The crowd left after the performance, and the screamers didn't try and mob him. They couldn't, they had to get home to prepapre meals for their families.

After the show Elvis was gone, and out in the sunlight, so were the days of old.