Thanks for this. It was oddly hopeful, which I'm sure was your intent. The innocence of our weirdness may be one of the best aspects of our country. And yes, I went to Graceland twice before it got so expensive, setting off the alarm in the Elvis Car Museum before being escorted out. I'd found out the night before at the motel across the street that I'd won a major short story contest and would have my first story published, so I was feeling the grace of The King. Couldn't resist touching his car.
Thank you, yes I was trying to be hopeful but there's the sad part that so many of these things I list are gone. I'm sure there are many other weirdos making such stuff around our country, but it does seem harder to pull it off these days (just even to buy the thing to get started). Guess I need another road trip when things settle down to find out. Or, it did occur to me, would all these old white dudes just be Trumpers now...sigh.
I was hoping this would inspire you to chime in with an Elvis story and boy that delivers, thanks! That's amazing you set off the alarm in the glow of your writing victory. Awesome!! Pompeii though, now that's weird ;)
It was so great and crazy, and such a sign. It was literally at midnight (okay, maybe [but only "maybe"] 5 minutes one way or the other, but I remember it as midnight) the night before when I called from the motel (guitar shaped pool and 24-hour Elvis movies on request), and E was on the TV over my left shoulder when I called and got the message on my answering machine. My friend and I had just come in from listening to blues on Beale St.
Upon this news, my friend (who was in the bathroom when I called) and I walked across the street and stood at the wall - there were teddy bears and various offerings placed upon it - then we lit a "burnt offering," partook, then tossed the remainder over the wall as an offering to The King.
After I set off the alarm the next day we headed into Arkansas, and not too far in we found a guy on the road selling *actual* Velvet Elvis's (as opposed to wall hangings, which I have a couple), hand painted on real velvet. Of course we each bought one. True objects of beauty.
Pompeii is odd though. If all goes well (I'm traveling back and forth to look after my dad) I've committed to (finally!) carrying a candle in the Candlelight Vigil for Elvis this summer. I'm glad this is still here, and it's kind of amazing it is. It is sad the things that have left. But maybe it's their nature to come and go, and you are kind of doing your own kind of curation for oddness and eccentric works, and other people we don't know about are doing the same. Maybe that's part of our job in this world right now as artists, to provide connection to this stuff that delights holds us together.
You're right, we can keep creating, and also curating, connecting.
Love all of that and it's great you might hold a candle in the vigil if you can take a break from the hard work of caring for dad. On the very same roadtrip we walked over the border to Mexico to get lunch one day and found ourselves buying a real painted Velvet Elvis (we called it Velvis). Sadly no one knows it's whereabouts now. We lost track of it somewhere along the journey of our lives since. I don't even know whose custody it was ever in!
No doubt it travelled left out to travel where it was needed. My produced-in-NYC play, "Velvet Elvis," had a Velvet Elvis that one of the characters named Pee Paw bought in Sonora, Mexico, and he brought it back to his family's trailer home, and the little girl who's ignored by her mother discovers when she sings "Love Me Tender" to the painting it cries real tears. Hijinks ensue. (It was a little tricky to get the tears to flow so the audience would notice, but the prop master was quite clever and it worked like a charm. Definitely one of my two favorite productions. Elvis is mine frend.
I love that a prop master created tears for the Velvis. I love him too but really only thanks to Graceland. We didn’t “get it” before that. Whatever it takes!
I'm looking forward to history books being rewritten so that "hamberder" is correct.
Sigh, every dumb word is so painful
Thanks for this. It was oddly hopeful, which I'm sure was your intent. The innocence of our weirdness may be one of the best aspects of our country. And yes, I went to Graceland twice before it got so expensive, setting off the alarm in the Elvis Car Museum before being escorted out. I'd found out the night before at the motel across the street that I'd won a major short story contest and would have my first story published, so I was feeling the grace of The King. Couldn't resist touching his car.
Thank you, yes I was trying to be hopeful but there's the sad part that so many of these things I list are gone. I'm sure there are many other weirdos making such stuff around our country, but it does seem harder to pull it off these days (just even to buy the thing to get started). Guess I need another road trip when things settle down to find out. Or, it did occur to me, would all these old white dudes just be Trumpers now...sigh.
I was hoping this would inspire you to chime in with an Elvis story and boy that delivers, thanks! That's amazing you set off the alarm in the glow of your writing victory. Awesome!! Pompeii though, now that's weird ;)
It was so great and crazy, and such a sign. It was literally at midnight (okay, maybe [but only "maybe"] 5 minutes one way or the other, but I remember it as midnight) the night before when I called from the motel (guitar shaped pool and 24-hour Elvis movies on request), and E was on the TV over my left shoulder when I called and got the message on my answering machine. My friend and I had just come in from listening to blues on Beale St.
Upon this news, my friend (who was in the bathroom when I called) and I walked across the street and stood at the wall - there were teddy bears and various offerings placed upon it - then we lit a "burnt offering," partook, then tossed the remainder over the wall as an offering to The King.
After I set off the alarm the next day we headed into Arkansas, and not too far in we found a guy on the road selling *actual* Velvet Elvis's (as opposed to wall hangings, which I have a couple), hand painted on real velvet. Of course we each bought one. True objects of beauty.
Pompeii is odd though. If all goes well (I'm traveling back and forth to look after my dad) I've committed to (finally!) carrying a candle in the Candlelight Vigil for Elvis this summer. I'm glad this is still here, and it's kind of amazing it is. It is sad the things that have left. But maybe it's their nature to come and go, and you are kind of doing your own kind of curation for oddness and eccentric works, and other people we don't know about are doing the same. Maybe that's part of our job in this world right now as artists, to provide connection to this stuff that delights holds us together.
You're right, we can keep creating, and also curating, connecting.
Love all of that and it's great you might hold a candle in the vigil if you can take a break from the hard work of caring for dad. On the very same roadtrip we walked over the border to Mexico to get lunch one day and found ourselves buying a real painted Velvet Elvis (we called it Velvis). Sadly no one knows it's whereabouts now. We lost track of it somewhere along the journey of our lives since. I don't even know whose custody it was ever in!
No doubt it travelled left out to travel where it was needed. My produced-in-NYC play, "Velvet Elvis," had a Velvet Elvis that one of the characters named Pee Paw bought in Sonora, Mexico, and he brought it back to his family's trailer home, and the little girl who's ignored by her mother discovers when she sings "Love Me Tender" to the painting it cries real tears. Hijinks ensue. (It was a little tricky to get the tears to flow so the audience would notice, but the prop master was quite clever and it worked like a charm. Definitely one of my two favorite productions. Elvis is mine frend.
I love that a prop master created tears for the Velvis. I love him too but really only thanks to Graceland. We didn’t “get it” before that. Whatever it takes!