Elvis is Everywhere!

RSM Kris Wheeler interviews an Elvis...something

Last time, I left off as RSM Kris Wheeler and I were heading down to the Graceland area to a trade show of Elvis memorabilia. (You can check out the previous post here.) When Kris came to Elvis Week four years ago, the tar show was in one of the convention halls for the civic center. This time we were told it would be at the Clarion, but the Clarion was now a Cedar. Cedar, huh? Woodsy, refreshing. This could be good.

We missed the place the first time we drove past, even though the GPS was actually accurate for the first time this trip. I’m not sure what threw us off. Maybe it was the prison-like black iron bars surrounding the entire parking lot. Then again, it could’ve been the dilapidated shells of abandoned strip clubs along both sides of the highway. If a neighborhood full of strip clubs is bad, what to think of one where even their owners have abandoned all hope?

If one were trying to create the most negative stereotype imaginable of Elvis fans, they couldn’t have done better than what awaited us at the Cedar. We spot a few aging fans lurking around outside the place, grabbing a quick smoke in the oppressive Memphis heat. Inside the lobby, hardly anyone is to be seen, ave one old guy sitting near the entrance of the meeting hall. He didn’t bother to wake as we passed.

To say the lobby was dank and oppressive would be an insult to dankness. This place looked like it had been abandoned for years and they had only run power to it for the weekend. I’m feeling less like a documentarian and more like a war correspondent. We pass the crumbling remains of what used to be a brick fountain or planter, past the sleeping old guy at the door and enter the trade show.

I had expected hundreds of merchants and collectibles dealers peddling their wares to throngs of Elvis fans from around the world. What I found was a room of maybe a dozen vendors with their items strewn about folding table and hung upon the walls of the small-ish meeting room. More dank. Musty old carpet. More of the ceiling tiles were water-damaged or missing altogether than were intact. Six or seven fans milled about.

Welcome to the Elvis Flea Market.

Before we met with one of the vendors, a photographer who is helping us out with the documentary by licensing us some of his images from Elvis concerts in the early ’70s, we decide to peruse the other offerings. That’s when I realized there was more here than what it seemed at first glance.

I found collections of memorabilia from some of Elvis’ shows in the period we’re covering – even ticket stubs of shows mentioned specifically in the film. There were Vegas Hilton showcards and ads, the same for the Sahara Tahoe.

There were movie theater standees, tons of vinyl albums and singles and all sorts of trinkets from that and ore periods of Elvis’ career. The more I looked, the more impressed I became. This was a documentarian’s dream.

One vendor had nothing but hundreds of snapshots of Elvis taken by fans at airports, hotels, backstage at shows and at the gates of Graceland. It was refreshing to see images of the biggest start the world has ever known outside the tightly-controlled marketing machine created by Colonel Tom Parker, Elvis’ long-time manager. One series showed Elvis greeting the fans at Graceland looking every bit the millennial hipster with his small, grey fedora and full, shaggy beard.

Perhaps most striking – and of most use to us – were the snapshots of Elvis’ funeral procession leaving Graceland, the road lined with thousands of fans trying to get one last glimpse of their fallen King. Similarly, two vendors had unused concert tickets – all dated August 20, 1977 or later – for the shows that would never be.

The longer we stayed, the more fans showed up. (It seems most of these people know each other, which leads me to wonder … How can they make money just selling to one another?)
There were more Elvises, too. There were older, bloated Elvises with mutton chops milling about. A young twenty-something Elvis swiveled his hips with abandon in the hotel restaurant. (Please tell me no one ate there.) Another, tall, young Elvis waited in the wings for his turn at enthralling the adoring tens of women present.

The day was growing long and more glamorous events awaited the masses. Yet they came. Despite the crumbling interior of the Cedar, they came. Despite the sudden and overpowering funk of backed-up sewage that filled the hotel, they came. Fans young and old, tribute artists and fan club presidents filled the public areas of the hotel.

Our photographer chatted with some friends about the hotel. One lady offered, “I hope they plan to renovate this place.”

The photographer snappily replied, “I hope they burn it down,” but quickly added, “but not until after this weekend.”

Next time, I’ll catch you up on our adventures on Beale Street, including a possible run-in with a bona-fide has-been reality TV star. (Chicken George, anyone?)

3 Responses to “Elvis is Everywhere!”

  1. You shouldn’t be at a loss for still images to use in the doc. Imho, some of the best docs make effective use of candid and stock photos. Any vendors or fans with Super 8 footage of Elvis signing autographs or of the funeral procession?

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. You like me! You really like me! | Let me ask you this… - August 22, 2011

    […] Men – okay, so this one is about the South.  But they are versatile in their coverage, from Elvis to NASA to spray starch to the Tuscaloosa tornado.  Plus they have Twanglish lessons.  You […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: