was that this must be what Graceland feels like – All Elvis, all the time. The devoted passion and love for this rock n’ roll icon was pretty phenomenal – and so was the festival. Elvi of every age, race and gender littered the streets, performers belted out hits, vendors sold every type of Elvis paraphernalia imaginable, and fans sported sunglasses, sideburns and sequins.Saturday we scored tickets for the “ELVIS : ULTIMATE BE
ST” performance at the Eddie Bush Memorial Arena. It featured some of the best Elvis impersonators at the festival, and these guys certainly put all the street performers to shame. It was, in a word, fantastic. These guys had the light, the band, the backup singers, the sequined wardrobes, the hip thrusting moves, the remarkably similar voices, and the screaming women at the stage. I was pretty enthralled by it all, and even joined the crowd stage-side to catch a few photos of the pseudo-king in action.
Sunday, thou
gh, just put the icing on the cake. I concluded the weekend by fulfilling a three-day mission to become the Foursquare mayor of Elvis fest – a simple, geeky, glorifying defeat. Enjoying my mayorship over a most delicious brunch at the Huron Club, Elvis came over to sing to me at the table. I felt pretty awesome, (and embarrassed) and enjoyed it thoroughly.
If the story concluded there, I would have beenhappy, but it got one step
better. My friend Kate’s mom thought I hadn’t had enough of the Elvis excitement and falsely proclaimed to this serenading performer that I was getting married. He called me onstage, and while I couldn’t help but laugh the entire time he sang to me, we shared a moment – a moment I tried to end early, but he pulled back closer, uttering into the microphone in his deep, southern, Elvisy voice “You’re not married yet, baby”. To which, I might have replied “And you’re not really the King” – but that would have ruined it. Because this weekend, I think I really did love Elvis.
No comments:
Post a Comment