Town Braces For Worst As Local Man Sets Off To Become "The Elvis Of The Palouse"

Although seemingly impossible at this point, the Town of Lamont was actually genuinely shocked by the antics of one of its citizens after a local man, Jed Bodine, future heir of the Bodine farm/ranch concern, has thrown caution to the wind, good taste out the window, and has heaved all forms of self-respect and personal modesty onto the burning pyre of fleeting fame as he devotes his obviously abundant personal energy and largely depleted family fortune towards the quest to become the most popular Elvis impersonator in the Palouse. "Well, this is a free country - and with that freedom comes an inevitable level of bizarre and inexplicable behavior, I guess" said the down-trodden and jaded town Mayor. "Just when I thought we had stamped out that whole "hootenanny" craze that has periodically paralyzed the town, another even more insidious and menacing fad rises up like some sort of cheesy phoenix or something to take its place. Can't I go thru one week as mayor without some kooky behavior or crazy cultural manifestation threatening the very social fabric of the Town, for Pete's sake?" he said mournfully. "Every mayor's worst nightmare is to open up the front door and see a seething mob of dazzling, shiny, pastel-colored Elvis impersonators (the capes, belts and scarves are particularly frightening) all lined up with a song on their lips and town mischief in their hearts" he said. "And he doesn't look a thing like Elvis, even with those glued-on mutton chops! Oh, and that voice! Every time he greases back his hair, unbuttons his cape and begins singing "You Ain't Nothing But A Hound Dog" in the park, the coyotes for miles around just go wild! I don't know if they like it or want to scratch their own ears out or what, but it sure causes them to make an awful racket" he said. "And since when did Elvis play the ukulele? The whole thing is just so wrong!" he concluded stoically.

"Well, it puts a whole new and unfortunate slant on that classic song "Hunk-a Hunk-a Burning Love"" said an unnamed housewife/neighbor and good friend to "Mrs. Elvis", Gertrude Bodine. "I don't know about you, but when I remember Elvis, I remember the slim and trim one from the early years. I know my husband could stand to lose a few pounds too and that shiny polyester with sequins and glitter does stretch a great deal, but is that really a risk we, as a town, want to take? Even man-made fibers have their breaking point! Plus, I just can't help but think that Jed is trying too hard to capitalize on that whole late-1970's weight gain thing. That is just not a good memory!" she said thru pursed lips as if trying to dispel a really bad taste in her mouth. "Oh, and his poor wife. Sure, Gertrude went thru that whole "Coal Miner's Daughter" phase a few years back, but I thought we moved past that. But at least she could sing!" she concluded, furrowing her brow in obvious concern.

As of this writing, Mr. Bodine was sitting in the park, eating a peanut butter and banana sandwich (with mayo, of course) and practicing curling up the corner of his lip and perfecting the phrase "Thank you. Thank you very much". Jed, thankfully, declined comment for this article.