A Big Hunk of Love?

This past Monday marked the start of the fourth annual Elvis Festival in Tampa, a weekend event dedicated to the King that’s jam-packed with concerts, impersonators and memorabilia.
To be honest, I’ve never understood all the excitement surrounding Elvis Presley. I admit, I am from the wrong generation – I’ll be graduating from high school in about two weeks. But this hasn’t stopped me from idolizing other superstars from the past; Frank Sinatra, Joni Mitchell and the Beatles have all spent time in my Discman. But Elvis? He’s always struck me as a marginally talented teen idol whose music should be considered a guilty pleasure, like Steven King novels and The Real World. As far as I can tell, he ended up overweight, drugged up, and lonely in Las Vegas, kind of like the Kurt Cobain of a former generation – aloof, tragic, depressed – but without the good looks, quality songwriting and Courtney Love conspiracy theory to keep the mystery alive. Plus, he killed himself accidentally. How lame.
Trying desperately to keep an open mind, I spent some time doing a little undercover research. As a new member of the Tampa ELVIS Meet-up Group (you can join here), I discovered some interesting facts. Did you know Elvis impersonators have official titles? They’re called Elvis Tribute Artists (ETAs) – not to be confused with Estimated Times of Arrival. Later, while browsing member profiles, I stumbled upon one JRedner.  Our very own strip club king is an Elvis fan? Interesting, but still no insight into the hype. I actually left even more confused after reading proud statements like that of Debbi, who announced, “I look for every chance I can to make Elvis a part of my everyday routine.” That’s just … weird.
I suppose, in the end, I’ll never understand. If it makes you Elvis fans feel any better, most of my adult family members refuse to acknowledge hip-hop as real music. So I’ll try to stop spoiling your fun. Go forth, dress up in sequined spandex, don your pompadour wigs and funky sunglasses, and sing along. For this week, you’ll be in good company. And I’ll stick my fist in my mouth and make Elvis’ words my new mantra, “Don’t criticize what you don’t understand, son.”
—Weekly Planet intern Anna Wood

This article appears in May 17-23, 2006.