SAY "YES" TO ELVIS THIS JULY 2009; YOU'LL BE GLAD YOU ROCK N' ROLLED WITH THE KING!
We are all Elvis, well Elvis' collective dream that keeps playing on an on in cosmic skip on that 45 rpm record "You Aint Nothin' But A Hound Dog". So if we can be a hound dog, we can easily be Elvis! Elvis allowed us all to dream - BIG!!!
Yes, it is, indeed, that time of year again! When all things turn Elvis. When all thoughts about the town are submerged for a time and the Elvis emerges ever so bright the star Elvis returns to replay the 50's in living technicolor!
Elvis in importance to all that "is" becomes our King, the King of Rock N' Roll fame, fortune, record deals, producers, directors, hopes, dreams, charity, winning a really, really big lottery. As Elvis, we all realize it is the Elvis raison d'etre. For those of us born outside the nascent birthing of Rock n' Roll it is difficult to conceive what this man really meant to the music industry. Elvis, undisputedly, and irreverently could be free to express his inner gyrations, of unknown vibe-ology, taking us to a higher plain of consciousness. Elvis made us believe anything was possible. We could go to the moon with Elvis, visit Jupiter, talk with the little green men on Mars and then continue onward past the galaxies.
The endless highway Elvis formed, the Rock N' Roll highway, forever encapsulated like a time machine, like we stepped Back To The Future time warp. A warp that seemed so less warped than the warp of now. The 50's were life like it was suppose to be lived, where the Leave It To Beaver and Father Knows Best really made sense. Elvis loved me and I loved Elvis, I will always love Elvis. Right now, right here, I confess my eternal love for Elvis. He is in my forever heart of tomorrow, because yesterday, he was there, and will always be there. Elvis imprinted my conscious as much as anything else in this green earth, this green, Green Grass Of Home - Collingwood!
Elvis in his black leather, is a pink ladies' dream come true, many times over. Elvis looking demure in his rebellious ways, as a sultry James Dean from Rebel Without A Cause certainly made me swoon. It was the look, and we wanted to own it. It became a badge of merit, a badge of "I can have this attitude and I can be bad and good at the same time. Dimorphic! Brilliant! We want Elvis in his country boy honest way, the forever blues, it is ok to be Blue with Elvis, especially in Hawaii, another tripl to be won. And I just know who I am going to take, my own home-made version of Elvis, created like a ship in the night, stealing away to passionate places and dreams, oh, the dreams!
It is so much more than ok that I took up Elvis as a cause. With his talent I will go far, and I promise, I will take you all with me, as I become wholly taken by the mood of Elvis. That scent can be purchased for 5.99 at the kiosk. Yes, WWED, What Would Elvis Do? Oh, I know what Elvis Would Do, do I really have to tell you? He'd do it right, babe, oh, yes, he would, do it so, right!
Elvis has other than mortal status? Unlikely. How could a man know this? that he would be afixed forever to a bright shining star? We have all taken upon ourselves the Elvis Cause Celeb or Elvis Raison D'Etre, the Reason to be - Elvis. The Causal Elvis is an experience you can only achieve at this time of year at this particular place where all things Elvis magic take hold in supernatural expression, a tour de force of music, song, dance, drama. And you are here. As Elvis, As and Elvis imbider, you are here, in Collingwood Ontario July 2009!
When and where did we become so afixed to the Elvis star? all Elvis' many hopes, dreams and wishes make us dream big. Bigger than Big, The Elvis personae being a classic, iconic and continual, the Elvis image is Bigger than Life. Elvis did so much good with his powers of goodwill to charities, to the music industry, to people who so freely shared his down to earth personality. He was all that, and then some. So as Elvis continues to shine the light of his music within each and everyone of us we come aware of our own creative talents and potential. We do become Elvis, we feel our hips move to his beat, to his gyrations, to his belief that Rock n' Roll is not only good, it is healthy, better than the Hawaiian chair, Rock n' Roll will never die!
As we get closer to that waxing Elvis time, when we grease back our hair, struggle to get into those too-tight jeans, we all take on an Elvis-lurking hue. We become the spotted Elvi' when we swing our hips, dancing on the streets of Collingwood all night long, or thereabouts. Wherever there are hidden these Elvis sprites, playing hide and go seek, all Elvis weekend long, we party hardy like Elvis knew how to do so well. And if you are caught by our team of Elvis reporters yelling out loud with the certain declaration "There's one!" or "I found another Elvis" You, too, have officially made an Elvis siting! And remember; to take a picture, it will last longer!
Just around the corner, this July 09, the annual hype for the hoped for siting, or better yet, Elvis sittings. Where can you get the chance to sit on Elvis' lap without reprisals or even worry that you must wed Elvis afterwards in Vegas? In Vegas you are forced to marry him, or at least a reasonable facsimile. What happens at the Elvis Festival in Collingwood Ontario thankful stays in Collingwood Ontario, without any residual hungover musings over a license stamped with the Colonel's John Henry's authenticity.
Yes Elvis! brings back the Elvis of our collective dreams and of my old ex, Elvis. Unfortunately, everyone claims Elvis as their own, and he is everyones boyfriend. How can this girl compete with all those starstruck ingenues waiting for their chance to be plucked from the crowd and lifted up to immortalized Hollywood in Collingwood star status? I am not asking for the world, I just want to be a star for one day. What do I have to do? I am afraid fifteen minutes of fame just is not long enough! A day would be good. So who will take home that covetted prix de jour? Elvis' Muse? Elvis' backup? Or whoever can channel the man to the point of completing the transition between the worlds of here and there? That prix de jour is priceless and may last much longer than merely a day of glory. We want to continue the Elvis Festival all year long; we want to bring back forever, bobby socks, pink jackets, cadillacs, pompadours, rubyred lipstick, poodle skirts, basically all things Elvis. Elvis' music? We want continual year-long loop, in other words, we want to go "all the way" with Elvis.
In our very friendly town of Collingwood, we are not immune to the power of the Kings' mighty sway. It is everywhere, something, somewhere, someday will make the memory field recall the TUPELO licence plate, the blue suede shoes sold at the local department store, Zellers or Walmart. We wait, like children waiting for Santa at Christmas, for the first string of Elvis lights to go up on the Elvis tree. We merge out of our cocoons hungry for more Elvis. The man, the music and the mechandise. The art form of Elvis impersonation is much more than simply slapping on a couple of fake sideburn choppers. We luxuriate in the possibility in becoming Elvis, or if not, one of his closest's entourage, maybe even, if we are lucky and feeling especially pretty, we become Wife of Elvis. Sorry Priscilla, but he is mine now. Although I do think the Bride of Elvis sounds a tad B movie-ish, I'd rather be Anne Margaret, no offence, it just that she really had the best of both worlds; her own career and Elvis' attention. Not bad for a skinny, redhaired Irish hotty!
No one can take back my man Elvis. He was the first and hopefully, the last. Maybe I could have his image plastered on my walls, poster art. Elvis on my night table, Elvis in my bathroom, Elvis, here, Elvis there, Elvis, Elvis EVERYWHERE!!! I say yes to Elvis, all the time. He must be worn out by now, if indeed these channelling feelings go anywhere at all. Yes, to Elvis as Elvis holds a special place on the plated templates of all things 50's. I own Elvis. Well I own Elvis' likeness. Which, to me, is a lot like having "a piece of him". I could eat Elvis gingerbread cookies all day long, it is better than an all day sucker, and look, mah, no cavities. Just be wary of the Gold Rush sandwiches, that's how Elvis died you know. Like Houdini's demise with a unprotected punch to the abdomen, Elvis was not aware that blockage is not always something to ignore. I miss Elvis, and there is this thought in my head; no he did not die, as I see, and hear him everywhere; especially, here in my heart!
It was no coincidence that I should meet an old boyfriend the day Elvis died. Why he looked just like Elvis, He had the Elvis magic thing happening. Well sort of, he pursued me like the hunted Priscilla. Maybe he wasn't Elvis, but I needed to make him Elvis, because in my mind, and many peoples' mind, Elvis never died. So endless Elvis, like endless love, like endless summer ad infinitum, and I am alright! Yes, I am!
My vision being somewhat elongated from farsightedness and foggy from the July morning heat fog on that July day 1977. Really it was for me, the day the music died, again. Recalling Elvis' fellow RocknRollers, Buddy Holly, The Big Bopper and that cute Mexican singer Richie Valens that sung so sweetly, hey I recall... when the corn grew high past dear Jumbo's huge Elephant's eye and the smell of the Circus coming to town!
Elvis I shall always claim as my own. He is mine! Although I only lived for a few years in the 50's I remember those picnic'd years of merge on all things Elvis. For months, we ponder the presence of the King, we consider what possible can I offer this great man of the swaying hips, pursed lips, hair flips and blue sueded shoes. What teddy bear do I have that could compare to the man himself? How could I emmulate this amazing Rock-a-Billy hipcat the orginator of all things Rock n' Roll. If I were a secret camera in Elvis' life, would he have noticed me? Wait-A-Minute! Elvis and I dated in the 80's. At least at thought he was Elvis! He had all Elvis' features, especially the hair, and the hips. He sure did like to use those hips!
If I fantasize about Elvis it is only because I am allowed to fantasize about Elvis. In fact, I am encourage so to do by my town, I have this right, so do you. So come on down and let your Elvis fantasies go to town. I'll be there, I may even sing a couple of Elvis tunes. You may even win the next Cadillac off the new MOTOWN assembly! It could be that pink Tahiti Treat colour you begin to remember from those crazy lazy summer days in the ever-lovin' fifties!
ELVIS FOREVER UNTIL THEN I'M ELVIS!