Elvis Christ Superstar! International Tribute Week barbecue is a true religious experience. by Chris Davis enesis: In the beginning there was a barbecue at the home of tag-team Elvis impersonators Bud and Mary. Their house is so close to Graceland you can practically see into the trophy room through the cracks in their fence. Other impersonators were expected to be in attendance, as were fans and honored Elvis dignitaries. Mary gave fine directions to her house but I got lost anyway. Miracles Reported on the road to Bud and Mary’s: Mary said I should know the house by the “Welcome Elvis Fans” sign it bore. Seeing such a sign, I pulled over. There were life-size cut-outs of Elvis and Marilyn Monroe in the window, but it was the plastic deer frolicking in the neighbors’ yard that really caught my attention. “Are you Mary?” I ask the middle-aged woman who opens the door. Bud shows off his dragon jumpsuit. “No,” she answers, “I’m Phyllis Collas, and this is the haunted house behind Graceland. We are all going over to Mary’s soon, though, so why don’t you come in and have a look around?” She showers me with Elvis gifts and Elvis stories and showed me something very special. “Look at my sliding glass door,” she directs. “That’s a nice one,” I compliment. “Can you see it?” she asks, marching to the door and pointing. “Can you see the microphone?” I squint, and turn my head sideways, and glory be, there it is – a fuzzy, smudgy image of Elvis, the concert from Hawaii era, right there in the glass. I thank Phyllis for her hospitality and head toward the barbecue. “You should get the Flyer to do a story on the house,” she calls after me. “The Enquirer did one.” Pentecost: The spirit of the King descends upon us that afternoon in the shape of a slow roasted pig. Bud and Mary’s house is covered wall to wall in Elvis art and memorabilia. Some of Bud and Mary’s Elvis collectibles. “People think I’m crazy to open up my house like this, having so many one-of-a-kind objects, but Elvis people don’t steal from Elvis people,” Bud says. The Elvis people chat quietly as they wait for their chance at the food. In the backyard, more Elvis people mill about. Some have penned gospels recounting their personal experiences with Elvis and have them for sale. Others just have stories. They were Elvis’ friends, his neighbors, his hairdresser, his sergeant in the army. They had all known the man, and he changed their lives. One by one they are called up to a small white tent to testify on the microphone. Few people talk about the music; they all talk about the loving, generous man named Elvis who “touched the life of so many others.” Joey “the Tail of the Comet” Welz is there. He was Bill Haley’s rocket-powered piano man. Welz shares memories of the Louisiana Hayride and introduces Amy Beth. Through the medium of the Holy Spirit (JC, not EP) Amy Beth speaks to Elvis in dreams, and channels his voice through her songs. There is plenty of singing, of course. They are, after all, gathered together to celebrate Elvis’ life, not to mourn his passing. The Reformation. After the singing, some people leave, while others break up into small groups to chat. I joined Bud and Thorne Peters, president of the Yours in Elvis Forever Fan Club. Bud and Peters talk about a people’s Elvis, claiming that the wealthy Elvis Presley Enterprises has forgotten the true believers. “Everyone has to find Elvis in his own way,” says Peters, “EP Enterprises treats the fans like some kind of necessary evil.” “They are embarrassed by us,” Bud adds. Did you know that they [EPE] let impersonators sing over there [Graceland] on the stage, so long as they don’t wear jumpsuits? They can perform in their street clothes, but not in a jumpsuit. They say it is a negative portrayal of Elvis.” It is apparent that many of the fans are tired of being sold photocopied relics and phony pieces of the cross. More important, they are sick of being sold a graven image of their king who was so very giving. Via the Internet, Peters announces his plans to nail his theses to the gates of Graceland. Birth of something like Existentialism: “It wasn’t Elvis Presley Enterprises that made Elvis, it was the fans,” Bud declares. Everyone agrees. Apocrypha: Before I leave the party, Thorne Peters treats me to this psalm. “Elvis was Captain Marvel Jr. Flying through the air with a lightning bolt on his back. He was poor and socially crippled, like the crippled Billy Batson who was given the power of Marvel. Shazam … with the lightning bolt … and suddenly he can fly [in the Lisa Marie]. … By the ’70s Elvis wasn’t even hiding it anymore. With his jumpsuits, and the capes, and TCB … He was a superhero … he was Captain Marvel Jr.”