'Elvis In Texas' by Stanley Oberst wrote:It's 8 p.m., Do You Know Where Your Singer Is?
Mr. Hendrick, we have a small problem with tonight's benefit.
Did you book the singers?
Yes, sir.
Order the posters?
Yep.
Hire the local talent?
Check.
Sell the tickets?
What we could.
Then what's the problem?
The show is about to start and the lead act isn't here yet.
The little hand chugged past eight and the big hand bungee jumped off the twelve and dove down the starboard side of the clock. The "local talent" started to warm the crowd up at the top of the hour, but behind the stage at the Future Farmers of America benefit, an Elvis sized hole stood in place of a real singer. john Nelson, DJ of KVLF, the "voice of the Last Frontier" in Alpine Texas, began to fret. Audiences aren't green beans; you can't put them on simmer for an hour and expect them to swim contentedly among themselves. Also, green beans don't own pitch-forks, Future Farmers do.
For the last month John had finagled with bob Neal by phone, letter, and telegram to get a group that the locals would cough up some much-needed revenue to see. The amanger assured Nelson that Elvis would raise the roof and the capital. All was arranged, despite the lack of PA system, the small auditorium, and some last minute alterations.
Always the considerate employee, John shared his headache with his boss, station manager George Hendrick. After a few moments' deliberation on the virtue of timeliness, Hendrick told john, you take the high road and I'll take the low road and I'll be in Alpine before ye'. Maybe the singers thought they were supposed to play at some other alpine high school in west Texas. The two grabbed their coats and slipped out the door unnoticed.
In ever-widening circles, Hendrick and Nelson scoured the gravel roads around their fair town. Their heavy cars tore past the rough terrain, strewn with tumbled boulders from the nearby Chalk Mountains. All appeared haunted in the cold winter twilight.
Nelson began to worry that something had happened to the young men. West Texas could be a very remote place if broken down or lost, and in the winter night creeping in on them felt as cold as ever-loving Christmas.
On their third pass, Nelson spotted the weary travellers kicking the tires of their car both in frustration and possibly to keep warm. The old Chevy lay in a fetal position on the side of the road, its hood and front fender bruised and aching from the collision they'd inadvertently participated in outside Alpine. After Bill's CPR, Scotty's abuse and Elvis's sweet talk, their faithful steed wheezed back to life. The threesome managed to kick it at a slow clop into Alpine, where it probably had a great deal to complain about to the other cars in the lot.
Despite the circumstances and the sparse ticket sales, Elvis, Scotty, and Bill played an encore performance to a small but feisty audience. As if galvanized by the post-collision adrenaline high, the threesome let it all hang out. John Nelson introduced the group and Scotty and Bill galloped into their positions on stage. After a pause carefully designed to drive the masses wild, Elvis oozed onto the stage and gave them a sultry stare from bedroom eyes. Galvanized by the look, the women bubbled screams like estrogen percolators. Elvis executed his trademark "snap and jerk," launching into an upbeat hillbilly repertoire unlike anything else these West Texas folks had ever heard. He twisted back and forth to the music, glancing occasionally over his shoulder at John Nelson, who still stood rooted to the stage, transfixed.
Elvis wasn't the only one who noticed the lurker; Hendrick hissed at the DJ from the sidelines. After several attempts, Hendrick diverted Nelson's attention just long enough to send him the psychic message, "get off the stage, John." In case the vibes got jumbled on the way through the cosmosphere, Hendrick jerked an impatient thumb toward the side of the stage. John shook himself back to reality and scuttled off the stage. The band rocked on.
After the performance, Elvis signed records and photos for the excited teens. With very little coaxing, he succumbed to autographing the petticoat of the banker's daughter. After an hour or so, Scotty, Bill, and the Nelsons asked if he wanted to join them at a party at a fellow DJ's house. Elvis declined with a smile, glancing over to the corner where the banker's daughter loitered. He had a date. The girl admired her petticoat and smiled back at him appreciatively.
The next morning came very early to the boys. They staggered out of their rooms at the the Bien Venido Motel on the main drag through town and stumbled over to the radio station for an interview and last minute automobile arrangements. They had to figure out how to get their car to New Mexico. A man by the name of Colonel Tom Parker booked the musicians for a gig in Carlsbad as a "favor" to bob Neal. This would be the first but definitely not the last "favor" Parker performed for the boys.