Micki Dahne was a star psychic by the time Elvis had left The Room. She traveled the country, uttering predictions, working the talk show circuit, holding seances. The National Enquirer, which proclaimed her its No. 1 psychic and sent her on a national tour, gave her a new first name: ``Amazing.''

It was quite a wild ride, and Micki didn't ride alone. She brought along her teenage daughter, Jill. She had the gift, too. Elvis' relatives witnessed it during a seance two weeks after the King's death in 1977. Young Jill Dahne clasped her hands over her eyes and moaned, ''They're hurting! Why are my eyes hurting?'' And it turned out that Elvis, his relatives said at the time, suffered from a painful eye condition he kept secret.

Months earlier, seventh-grader Jill appeared on a radio show and described a frightening vision: a bloody attack in Washington, D.C. Her word turned to prediction gold after terrorists struck there days later. Ripley's Believe It or Not named her the Most Amazing Teenage Psychic.

But amazing business aside, the daughter psychic couldn't be more different than the mother psychic.

''She's establishment. She gets all dressed up -- make up, fine clothes, high heels. And I'm in a mumu,'' says Micki, rattling off the astrological reasons for their differences. ``Jill's a Capricorn. I'm a Sagittarius. Sun in Sag. Merc in Sag. Mars in Sag. Venus in Sag. Jill's moon is in Sag -- that's her soul. So she's still my baby.''

OPPOSING VIEWS

Tonight, Micki is riffing on matters of life and love. She's holding court in the living room of her high-rise, oceanview condo. Outside, a waxing moon casts a subtle glow on the beach. Micki's doing that uncanny thing psychics do, pulling vibes and initials out of the ether, ''reading'' the aura as if it's wearing neon. Her daughter does that, too, in her own, cut-to-the-chase way.

While Micki might look into a client's eyes and say, gingerly, that a troubled relationship could be worth saving as long as there is true love, Jill might roll her eyes and say: Forget it. Next.

Micki prefers to talk about that tiny window cracked open to a sky of possibility. Jill sees that window, but prefers to talk about the door slammed shut next to it. Micki's the romantic. Jill is the pragmatist. Then again, Micki has been married eight times, and Jill only once, to her first real sweetheart.

It's not that mother and daughter get opposing visions when they turn up the sixth sense. It's simply that they have vastly different ways of looking at the world -- and the other world.

TRADING PLACES

Tonight, the ESP is kicking. Micki tells the story of how she dragged Jill along to her old radio show years ago.

''She didn't want to come with me. She was being a brat,'' Micki recalls.

So Micki decided to teach her rebellious daughter a lesson. Just before it was time to go on the air, she excused herself for a minute and left Jill in the studio. And she didn't come back. When the on-air light flashed, Jill found herself staring at the microphone. Moments later, from outside, Micki heard her daughter's voice and nearly fell back:

``Hi, this is the Jill Dahne Show.''

''And she didn't stop yakking,'' Micki recalls.

Jill remembers her first caller, a woman whose voice triggered a sordid vision.

''Get home now. There's someone at your house,'' Jill remembers telling the caller.

''When she got home she found her husband with another woman. He told her he was just giving mouth-to-mouth to her because she had passed out. Except he was naked. So there you go,'' Jill says.

She took over her mother's show in 1993. Now Jill hosts The Love Psychic, 3 to 4 p.m. Sundays on WNN Health Talk Radio, 1470 AM. She's a professional matchmaker. She says she's put together 750 couples. Like her mother, she does private consultations and routinely issues predictions, which they post on their respective websites, www.mickidahne.com and http://www.jilldahne.com/. But Jill also organizes social events for singles. When it comes to the idea of looking for love, she's a walking affirmation.

''Come on out. You never know,'' goes her twinkling invite.

It's clear that Micki taught her well.

''From the time she was a kid, I let her loose and I encouraged her. I wanted her to sense on her own if something is good or if it's not,'' Micki says.

It's not like she had much of a choice. Jill was as self-possessed a child as Micki had been.

''One day she was sent home from school with a letter. She was telling the teacher what she was going to write on the chalkboard before she wrote it,'' Micki remembers with a laugh.

She, too, had her childhood outbursts of ESP. She was Maxine Blumenthal, a Jersey girl whose father was part owner of the cinema company that became Warner Brothers. She was his golden, lucky child, the girl whose birth was announced in Walter Winchell's column. But to her mother, she was the girl who too often spoke out of turn.

'Before the phone even rang, I'd tell my mother, `Aunt Reba is calling,' '' Micki says.

Her mother wanted no part of Micki's predictions. She called them ''rumors.'' She'd keep Micki quiet with candy.

''In a little town like Passaic, N.J., you don't want a daughter who's a psychic. Especially if you're Jewish,'' Micki says.

So Micki ignored the ''rumors'' until well into adulthood. She had been a housewife and mother for nearly two decades before she tapped into what she calls her ''extranatural sense of perception.'' It was a sense that came easily after she moved to South Florida, close to the ocean. Her husband and the father of her children, Herman Sokoloff, had died and she felt vulnerable. Micki says tuning into her instincts became her protection.

It was 1970, a time when clairvoyants were considered circus acts. But Micki was different. She was hip, pretty, and of her time. TV producers snapped her up for their talk shows. She swam easily in the pop culture and celeb scene. Within a few years of turning on her switch, she was the country's It psychic, having predicted earthquakes and plane crashes.

''She told them when Patty Hearst was coming out! The extraordinary adventures of a mind-tingling, rib-tickling, amazingly accurate super-psychic who astounds millions!'' proclaimed the cover of her 1975 memoir, Micki Dahne: ESP Is Chicken Soup.

She gained a reputation for being show-bizzy, straightforward and, yes, amazingly on target. Her favorite dubious honor is having snubbed Larry King when his radio show was based in Miami. But, proving Micki's appeal, King lavished praise on the psychic later.

''She's the only person to have ever walked off my show. . . . Micki, I forgive you,'' King is blurbed on her 1989 book, The People Watchers/How to Read People.

And as the psychic she is famed to be, Micki predicted her own daughter's romantic path. Jill says mom told her who she was going to marry when she was 17. And she did -- 14 years later. By then, Jill was nationally known. And she has made mom proud.

''I respect her tremendously. She says it like it is. If you're getting a divorce, she'll tell you,'' says Micki, who recognizes streaks of her early days in her daughter's approach. Now mellowed by years, the stars and all those full moons, Micki admits some things don't get easier.

''How do you give bad news? It's still very hard,'' she says.

Fortunately, Micki can tell the ''rumors'' to relax every once in a while. The family's got her covered. There's Jill. And there's also Jimmy. He's Jill's 5-year-old son. They say he's psychic, too. Amazing.