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back in baton rouge following the flatbed “tour” of the southern-midwest with much to reflect on …

knoxville’s transgender comedy community …
schmitty’s love of penguins …
the hooch …
eddie and the fuckmunky’s, the world’s greatest american barroom rock and roll band (vol. 1) …
the paradigm shifting highland’s tap room in louisville’s (if that’s where we really were) …
fitness room, days inn, southern indiana …
potato casserole …
body shots …
the hooch …
speedboats and revolutions …
the fifth wheel …
chickens, the free range, and brining …
trimming fat off the bull’s pecker …
fireworks! …
smoking smokers …
the hooch …
margaret catherine …
astronauts …
tent storms …
rock jumping …
noodle love …
jimmy’s nervous breakdown …
my mom and second cousins at pk’s …
bleeding deacon’s …
sliders …
photo memories …
the hooch …

so, so, so much more …

but between reading theory day and night to write a syllabus for the fall and the brilliant distraction that was last night’s ELVIS party, i’m reduced to an a-chronological path to representation: road stories to follow; elvis has taken center stage.

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last night was the tenth annual elvis party. my friend clark is elvis. he’s a bad ass.

his wife catherine, another bad ass (great drummer, seamstress, etc.) made his costume and did the band’s makeup.

their friends, whose names i’m forgetting now, make up the band and the back up singers.

the back up singers are all wives of the band members.

it’s a family affair.

kids everywhere.

getting high in the dressing room bathroom.

shooting pics in the backstage warmup watching clark become elvis.

the entrance (the band riffs for awhile, then two motorcycles lead in the backup singers followed by elvis riding a chopper bicycle) was amazing.

he takes stage in a cape … they rip into a tune.

they’re smoking.

the back up singers are hot.

the whole scene is hot.

like fucking woodstock in a backyard party in baton rouge with a bunch of people with kids!

one of those things that makes me think, ‘ok, with the right girl and the right community, i could love this.’

i got caught up in it … had about nine beers between the backstage and the first half of the set. course i’m easily excitable … but still …

pretty fucking amazing.

ELVIS!

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