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Fortunately for public, Elvis sightings in
area were few
By BILL WHITAKER
If you have to find something good to say of the 20th anniversary
of Elvis Presley's death, it's that the fierce retrospecting is,
thankfully, over and done with ... for another year.
Then again, you can never be too sure. Pretty soon we'll be
having huge retrospectives over the first peanut-butter-banana
sandwich Elvis ever ate.
No offense to "The King," but retrospectives often
bring the absolute worst out in people - even in Abilene.
Take, for instance, the used car lot at Fred Hughes Motors,
just off North 1st. Last Friday, Eddie Don Davis decided to pay
"homage" to Elvis by dressing up as the dearly departed
rock 'n' roll legend. Others will have to decide if Eddie Don
sufficiently recalled The King or late Elvis wanna-be Tooter Boatman.
All I know is Eddie Don didn't sell any used cars duded up
as Elvis.
"It was more for fun than anything else," good-natured
Eddie Don told me later (after narrowly escaping my camera lens
in his Elvis guise). "Like I say, I didn't sell any cars
that morning, but I am thinking of doing an 'Elvis Day,' both
for the anniversaries of his birth and his death.
"I mean, just think of it - you can buy your car from
Elvis!"
This week I noticed that the Fred Hughes web pages celebrates
Eddie Don's dubious on-the-lot homage. It's at http://www.abilene.com/fhughes,
if you dare.
For the record, when I asked Eddie Don if he had modeled himself
after the "young Elvis" or the "old Elvis,"
the droll car salesman told me he made himself up to look like
Elvis in his "middle period."
Which, I'm told, looks like many used car dealers.
ROAD-KILL CANDIDATE
Eddie Don was probably just the tip of the iceberg. That same
morning, Y-99 radio personality Scott Creekmore - better known
to listeners as "Creek Man" - arose extra early so he
could dress up as Elvis, go out to Buffalo Gap Road and the freeway
and give out 16 dozen jelly doughnuts.
But, he hastened to remind me, he didn't mean in any way to
lampoon the pudgy image of "old Elvis."
"I was making fun of Elvis impersonators," the upbeat
radio character insisted. "We wouldn't ever make fun of Elvis.
But Elvis impersonators are something else. You know, one thing
I've noticed is that Elvis impersonators never look like Elvis,
but they always look like each other.
"Really, though, it was just a publicity stunt on a Friday
morning, something we thought people on their way to work might
enjoy."
I'm told Scott strolled merrily among cars and trucks that
morning, giving out his jelly doughnuts to motorists, including
one fellow who had adorned his truck in all sorts of colorful
Elvis memorabilia: "In fact, I gave that guy a whole box
of jelly doughnuts."
The 25-year-old radio personality, who usually handles the
night shift, also learned that different motorists have different
responses, especially when confronted by strange-looking, out-of-place
individuals walking between cars and pickup trucks during the
morning rush hour.
"When one guy saw me," Scott admitted, "he tried
to give me change."
GET WELL, ELVIS DIED
As last weekend's paper showed, Elvis Presley's death still
conjures up memories galore. Many of us can actually remember
where we were when we heard that Elvis had bought the farm.
For local teacher Trina Merkel Ostlien, though, the situation
became a matter of how to break the news to her mom, Hymonda Merkel,
back then recuperating from surgery.
"So many in my family are Elvis fans, especially my aunt
and my cousin in California, so I just knew it would be a blow
to my mother," Trina said. "Some of my friends and I
were at church when we heard and began trying to figure out some
way of breaking it to my mom that Elvis Presley had died."
"Funny thing was, when we saw her, we said, 'Uh, we're
glad you're getting well and, oh, by the way, sorry, but Elvis
died."
Amazingly, the news didn't cause Trina's mom to have a relapse.
Turns out she's one of the few members of the Merkel clan who
did not place Elvis in a holy shrine.
"Now, it was different with my cousin in California,"
Trina said. "She had some Elvis collectibles and, well, she
took it harder than anyone. I thought we were going to have to
bury her along with her collectibles."
Bill Whitaker, who has never owned an Elvis record but at least
admits to being culturally null and void, can be reached at 670-5293,
ext. 325.
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Copyright ©1996 or
1997, Abilene Reporter-News / Texnews / E.W. Scripps. Publications
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