10 Jan 2010, Posted by Cat in News, 29 Comments. Tagged elvis

Viva Parkes!

The Parkes Elvis festival was exactly what I hoped for; big enough to attract a decent sized crowd, yet still small enough to be rough and dowdy round the edges. We arrived just before the start of the parade. Both sides of the main street were thickly lined with Elvis enthusiasts braving the baking heat.

As you might imagine, the parade featured home made floats and flashy cars atop of which perched an array of Elvises, Priscillas and feather-bottomed Vegas showgirls. Also present, the ubiquitous belly dancers and marching bands found in all parades everywhere.

The main action took place in Cooke Park. Think old style country carny atmosphere: saggy jumping castles, hot jam donuts, laughing clowns, dagwood dogs and fairy floss. And Elvis. Lots of Elvis, from little bitty boy ones through to female Elvises jiving away on stilts. I saw a harried electric blue jumpsuited Elvis leaning exhausted on a pram. Half arsed Elvises with drawn on sideburns. On a portable stage, professional Elvis impersonators took turns at singing much like writers doing readings at a convention.

I crashed the backstage area where little Elvises and Priscillas waited eagerly for junior lookalike contests to begin.

Check out these glam jailbait Priscillas

and this adorable little moppet with the dolly Lisa Marie.

When I asked four little Elvises to pose they all leapt seamlessly into formation as though they’d done it a hundred times before.

In the library’s Elvis art exhibition we glimpsed Elvis with cherubs, Elvis painted on bark, stone, wood as well as rendered in wire, tile and corrugated iron. Some paintings featured typical rural scenes labeled with Elvis song titles – Clean up your own backyard (chooks and lambs in a pen). I was sorely disappointed at the utter absence of velvet painting.

Parked in the foyer was Elvis’s last car, a two-tone hard top Cadilac Seville, apparently driven by the king on the day prior to his death.

Meanwhile, back in the park, centre stage, little Elvises were leaping, shaking and gyrating one after another in their teeny sequined jumpsuits, mostly having elected to sing Hound Dog… unfortunately. But there was this one kid, Coby, uncostumed in his t-shirt and shorts who wowed the audience to pieces with his powerhouse rendition of How Great Thou Art. I predict a big future for that dude. Little Yammamoto Elvis also deserves a mention for jumping his way stylishly through Hound Dog, eventually giving up on the words as the jumping seemed to be getting the message across. And I swear the final singer’s name was Georgia. Elvis has ceased to be gender specific.

Parkes is hot. Really hot. Too flipping hot for jumpsuits of any description, let alone stiff garments constructed of nylon and rhinestone. By the end of the day I’d become utterly accustomed to the sight of Elvises wandering along the street. I pounced on a flock of them to grab this picture.

There was stuff going on in the RSL club but we went off to check out the radio telescope. The Dish staff were done up as Priscillas and Elvises too. If you live in Parkes, I’m guessing there’s no escaping this phenomena.

entire photo set here.