This time of year, I find myself feeling that familiar pang of FOMO—a mixture of longing and regret. You know the one: the dread that you’re missing out on something grand. But in my case, it’s not just any event. It’s an event I’ve only attended once in my life, yet somehow it feels like I’ve been missing it forever. I’m talking about Elvis Week at Graceland in Memphis, Tennessee. At certain time of the year, my FOMO becomes FOME, fear of missing Elvis.
The first time I went? Magical. And let me tell you, the first time will definitely not be the last time. It was everything I didn’t know I needed—quirky, a little over the top, and full of that weirdly wonderful energy that only die-hard Elvis fans can generate. I left wondering how I let so many years slip by without knowing such a phenomenon existed. How had Elvis Week eluded me for so long?
Now, for those of you reading this and thinking, “Elvis fans? Really?”—no judgment! We all have our thing, right? Maybe you wave your flag at comic-cons or knit-a-thons. Me? My freak flag is bedazzled, rhinestone-studded, and shakes its hips to a familiar tune. At least, it does this time of year when Elvis Week rolls around.
Honestly, I can’t pinpoint when my fascination with the King and his fandom began. Thanks to my grandmothers, I grew up listening to his music and enjoying the lighthearted antics of his movies. But it wasn’t until much later—probably after watching Lilo & Stitch for the umpteenth time, or catching Honeymoon in Vegas on a lazy afternoon—that it hit me. Elvis wasn’t just popular; he was transcendent. Decades after his heyday, his influence lingered everywhere.
And then came the real eye-opener: Elvis Tribute Artists, or ETAs as they’re lovingly called by the Elvis community. At first glance, I figured they were just another part of Elvis kitsch, like velvet paintings or bobblehead dolls. But oh no. After watching a documentary on Elvis impersonators (or, should I say, tribute artists—because there is a difference), I realized these performers weren’t just playing dress-up for kicks. For many, this was an occupation, a genuine calling with its own elaborate subculture. It’s like fandom going full meta, complete with its own layers of competition and hierarchy. Who knew?
Curiosity got the better of me, and in 2022 I finally took the plunge and bought tickets for Elvis Week at Graceland. I’ll admit, I had my reservations. Would I be the only person of color there? Would it be a bit…weird? Creepy, even? But what I found was neither weird nor creepy. It was fun. Fun in that throw-caution-to-the-wind, sing-along-to-your-favorite-songs-with-a-bunch-of-strangers way. Fun in the sense of communal joy—thousands of people gathered, not just to celebrate a man, but the music, the legend, and the myth of Elvis Presley.
And oh, the Ultimate Elvis Tribute Artist (ETA) competition! I was lucky enough to sit next to a seasoned fan who gave me the lowdown on the world of ETAs. Apparently, the road to Graceland isn’t just a straight shot. No, no, no—it’s a journey that includes last-chance competitions and qualifying rounds held all over the world. That’s right—there are ETAs from places you wouldn’t even expect, all vying for the crown of the Ultimate Elvis. I learned about their unique styles: some specialize in ‘50s-era Elvis, others in the Vegas years. Each one captures a different facet of the man, keeping his legacy alive in new, creative ways.
For those who’ve never experienced it, let me paint a picture of the competition. Imagine a room filled with rhinestones, jumpsuits, and pompadours galore. The energy? Electric. These tribute artists don’t just perform; they embody Elvis—his swagger, his charm, that infamous lip curl. Some might bring their own modern twist to his persona, but they all respect the source material with a sincerity that borders on reverence. It’s a celebration of Elvis, sure, but it’s also a testament to the staying power of his music, his style, and his persona.
You see, Elvis Week isn’t just about nostalgia; it’s about the timelessness of Elvis’ appeal. The King’s influence has spread far and wide, transcending generations, cultures, and continents. Elvis may have left the building, but he’s still very much alive in the hearts of his fans—and especially in the passionate performances of ETAs from Memphis to Melbourne.
So here I am, another year gone by, feeling that familiar FOME creep in.
Thankfully, this year Elvis Week offered a virtual attendance option! While I wasn’t physically in Memphis, I still got to experience the magic from the comfort of my own home. I watched the performances, cheered on my favorite tribute artists, and even witnessed the crowning of the new king—all while in my bedazzled pajamas.
It wasn’t quite the same as being there in person, but the energy still radiated through the screen. The King’s spirit danced on, proving that no matter where you are, Elvis Week has a way of bringing fans together. And who knows? Maybe next year, I’ll swap the virtual for the real deal and find myself back in that quirky crowd once again, ready for another round of Elvis magic—this time, live and in person.