Seeing an Elvis: How It Went

18 Nov, 2025

So for those who haven't read it: Part 1 of this saga is optional. All you need to know is that I drove over 200 miles for this show as it was in another city. I had family there, so it wasn't as much of an inconvenience as it sounds.

Something else is that the title might've been misleading: this isn't for an Elvis show per-se, rather a Vegas Revue kind of deal where an Elvis impersonator would cover songs from various famous Vegas performers. I'm not picky, I took what I could get at the time.

The day of, I was apartment-sitting and doing some work, when I saw that with traffic and everything, the drive would take ONE HOUR. So on top of all that driving beforehand, I had to drive through insane traffic, but I got through it!

Before the Show

At the entrance, the hostess takes me to my table, which was RIGHT BY the entrance, elevated above the other tables, and with a conspicuously bright light RIGHT ABOVE my head. And then outside of the waitstaff, I was the only person in my 20s, which is fine—I wasn't expecting this to be where the cool kids hung out—but it still made me stand out way more than I was comfortable with.

The feeling I had: being in a place wholly unfamiliar to my demographic, it was the same as how I felt when I'd go anywhere living in Japan. I didn't think it was possible to feel that way back home, but I was clearly wrong.

To make things worse, I had my notebook that I'd be writing into during the show. I was dead-set on using it, but it didn’t stop me from feeling incredibly self-conscious.

I thought about what I'd say if anyone ever asked me about it. I settled on being honest that I have a terrible memory and wanted to immortalize it. However, I wonder how they would respond if I had also mentioned I might make this into a blog post: "Yes, my zero readers are DYING to hear about how this show went!"

I was given a menu and decided to order now so it kills time before the show, plus I get to see it with a full stomach. I wouldn't know it would have consequences later.

Looking around, I spotted the stage, and it was incredibly small and plain. This wasn't going to be doing the performer any favors, and I had plenty of time to speculate on how he was going to hold his own up there.

As I'd continue to wait and observe, I'd glimpse this conspicuously dressed guy in a leather jacket and styled hair kicking back with the venue's employees. He was far away so I couldn't make out his face enough to spark any familiarity, so at the time, I figured he was just another employee, albeit an eccentric one (maybe the owner?). I had zero expectation that Elvis guy would be here yet, let alone talking to us unless it was at his merch table, which was empty.

Waitress eventually serves me the burger, I start eating, and leather jacket guy moves on from talking with the staff to some of the audience members. The venue was still mostly empty at that point with some elderly couples strewn about at the tables, so it didn't take much time for him to settle on the one immediately in front of me. I was seated perpendicular to the other tables, so I was facing them instead of the stage. There was nothing else to pay attention to BUT them.

As my brain tunes in, Leather Jacket Guy's words come into focus. "I'm still getting my dates for next year in order, so let me know what works for you."

Okaaaay, let me eavesdrop further while I preoccupy myself with eating…

I couldn’t hear what the couple said, but Leather Jacket Guy’s response told me all I needed to know. "Yeah, I'll be here in December… I'm booked practically every day that month. It's crazy during the holidays."

I stop mid-bite. Waaaait a minute-

I avoided looking at his face before then because I wanted to be polite, but I looked up when I heard that. Seeing the area around his eyes, it reminded me of a certain someone. That's when it finally clicked: THIS was the impersonator! This entire time, I was fooled by his impersonation of a normal person (AKA: him out of costume).

I did look him up online beforehand, but the pictures he used on his website had him in stage makeup PLUS they were taken quite some time ago, so seeing him now, he looked juuuust different enough that I needed multiple points of reference to connect the dots. I'd put him in the 40s to 50s range, and a lot begins to change with your face then.

With this newfound information, I didn't want to just sit there a look of mild surprise for too long. I thought fast, and I figured it would be funny to simply say what I was thinking. Burger still in hand, I waited for a natural lull in the conversation to exclaim, "Oh, so you're the guy! Hi!"

He turns to me. I thought he'd be thrown off, but he didn't break a sweat answering. "Yeah, I'm the guy. The name's Vic Marshall."¹

And he extends his hand… But there's one small problem: my hand is still holding my burger. I hesitate, panic setting in as I try to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to shake his hand and NOT look like an idiot. Impossible. The best I could think to do was awkwardly twist around my non-burger-holding left hand to complete the greeting.

This marks the first of two shows in a row with botched handshakes.

After that, he gave me a polite smile and returned to discussing his gigs with the couple.

While they talked, I almost wanted to ask him about what I read on his website, but I held my tongue. Researching people is kind of my love language, but it’s only fine to mention once you’re in a conversation with them, and we’re not conversing.

…Oh yeah, and under NO circumstance should I bring up that I drove an absurd distance to be here.

Instead I focused on disappearing my burger as soon as possible to avoid further incident while listening to their idle chit-chat. What piqued my attention was him mentioning he had a "fan club" with some members also serving as informal agents/promoters who find gigs for him.

So this guy has a coalition behind him!? Wasn't expecting THAT to be a part of tonight’s bingo card, but yeah, why wouldn't you want people like that in your corner?

When the conversation with the couple ended, Vic gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder as he moved on. "Nice seeing ya, sweetheart," he said, and he was gone.

I finished my burger shortly thereafter, accursed thing.

As a Zoomer who hadn't gone out much, I had never seen a performer go out of their way to talk to fans like that. I went to a lot of conventions growing up, and with the public figures who'd be guests there, you wouldn't be able to talk to them without paying for the privilege (or if you didn't pay, you'd look like a dick). And here he was, just going around and you could just talk to him? For free?

The closest point of comparison I had were Japanese underground idols, who also heavily depend on grassroots support. Except with them, it's all micro-transactions. For interactions as simple as a handshake, you gotta pay up. Meanwhile I got one without asking. As I'd find out, this kind of mingling was how things were done back in the day, and it was something that Elvis himself did a lot of before he got too famous for it to be sustainable.

I often forget how much late-stage capitalism has monetized what used to be normal human interaction.

The elephant in the room is that safety is another big reason why interactions are usually pay-gated, though Vic didn't have much to worry about on that front. People are going to be more normal with him on a personal basis, so he could be normal back, but even then!

…These were the thoughts that ran through my head for the next hour.

The Show

It was about ten minutes before the show that I became overcome with a feeling that can be best described as a moment of clarity: "What am I even doing here? This is so stupid! Why did I do all this?" But I was already here, so it wasn't like I could turn back now.

The veritable spotlight above my head fortunately began to dim as it came time for the show. My chest tightened as "Please don't be cringe, please don't be cringe" repeated in my mind like an incantation. (It's funny how being "cringe" is, like, the worst crime to a Zoomer. Intellectually, I think it's our God-given right to be cringe, but the fear thereof its a hard thing to get over when it's baked into your soul.)

The MC stepped up and thanked Vic for coming, thanked the venue and us for our patronage, all that good stuff. He announced Vic's future gigs, which I had already overheard from earlier, and introduced Vic, who came out a nearby door to take the mic from him.

This time, he was clad in a velvet turquoise jacket and otherwise looked the same as when I saw him prior. I wondered if he was going to do quick-changes, but it soon became obvious he wasn't when he launched into his first number.

It was a Dean Martin song, Everybody Loves Somebody, and with him he held a cup that he'd sip from on occasion. All I knew about Dean was that he was famous for carrying a drink with him as he sang, so I rightly concluded Vic would be using subtle cues to distinguish singers rather than any big costume changes.

He actually had a great singing voice, and it was far different from how he sounded before the show. Did it sound like Dean Martin? No clue, I was just relieved it was going well and my momentary regrets from earlier had begun to fade.

…And then he held the mic out to the audience during his cover of That's Amore.

"Come on, sing with me!"

Silence.

My stress levels would spike each time he did this. Nobody would sing. (I mean I would've… if I knew any of the songs.) And then he kept doing it, giving us the floor while we gave him nothing. All I could think about was how it must take balls of steel to keep at it. I would've broke after the first time, and that's why he's up there and I'm not.

Just when I thought I couldn't handle the secondhand embarrassment anymore, he transitioned into Sway and did this sort of one-person slow dance. I braced myself for disaster, but he pulled it off smoothly. The guy was clearly a good, confident dancer, and that was what did it for me. I could finally, FINALLY relax.

He ran through his Dean Martin catalog, and during his Sinatra segment when he was singing Fly Me to the Moon, he stoops to his knees to get at eye-level with a woman in the audience and leaned in towards her in an intimate fashion. From the angle I had, it almost looked like they were making out. And I find it so funny that the FIRST thing that came to my mind when I was under that impression was "Hey, it's 2025, love is love!"

In hindsight, I'm pretty sure he kissed her on the cheek and they exchanged a few words. I was just glomming onto something I saw in the Elvis biopic when he was just kissing every woman in sight near the end.

Once the song was over, Vic clarified the woman was a friend of his; he didn't just impose on a random stranger lol. He shouted her out and somehow this led to a lesson in apple cider quality. Turns out he's a bit of a cider aficionado, and according to him, the only truly "fresh" cider exists up north. Her giving him cider from there is how she "keeps the peace" in spite of their opposing football allegiances. That very cider was what he'd been drinking from that cup!

That was when the reciprocal nature of this ecosystem really began to fascinate me. It's easy to consider this as "younger guy takes advantage of older person," but he's actually offering something: giving escapism and attention to a woefully neglected subset of our population. Transactional or no, they clearly feel valued, and in return, they do a lot for him.

The songs he covered were a whole smattering of crooner classics: Dean Martin and Sinatra we’ve already covered, then Engelbert Humperdinck and a number of others from that era.

He actually did work some Elvis in… I think. Let me explain: for My Way, he told us, "I'm singing this like Elvis. Real fans can tell the difference." However, when he started singing… I heard no difference. While he very likely did add some cool deep-cut Elvis nuances in there, I'd rather choose to believe Vic sang it the same to mess with us, because that's inherently funnier.

As the songs and the banter continued, we got a bit of his origin story: his father was a singer as well and a huge Tom Jones fan, to the point he got a perm to emulate his idol. Vic describes a photo of him from the 70s that aged HORRIBLY. I'm talking hands on hips, standing confidently in his bell-bottoms with a leg out to one side. Of course, the perm™ was there too with a 99% chance of sideburns. Now, what was his point in telling us this story? To me, it was that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree, an irony Vic himself noted as he pointed out his own outfit. (Although the apple fell far enough to turn wearing flared pants into a living!)

As for the photo, we didn't get to see it. I was somewhat disappointed because there was a projector RIGHT behind him, he could've shown us! But to be fair, I felt like he didn't need to.

Speaking of Tom Jones… While Vic cycled through all these artists, Tom Jones was not one of them, which was strange, because he mentioned Tom Jones as a prominent part of his set in the show listing.

My Tom Jones knowledge is very basic, but his reputation as an uninhibited ball of chaos preceded him. For that reason, I could never bring myself to watch a video of him, and if I did, I’m pretty sure my face would melt off as if I’d seen the Ark of the Covenant. Though in a live tribute setting… Perhaps I’d be able to see what the fuss is about without my soul leaving my body.

With every song, I braced myself wondering when Vic would do him, and for the first hour and a half, nothing. I began to have doubts it would even happen at all.

Well, it happened.

I knew Tom was next when Vic shrugged off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt slightly, earning some whistles from several old ladies at the front. That was just the law if you're going to do Tom Jones, even I knew that.

Now, if what I witnessed was even a fraction of Tom Jones' full power, I'm lowkey kinda scared. Not because Vic was being particularly crude compared to your average TikTok thirst trap, but because I was not used to being part of the communal experience of witnessing a man gyrate while belting out songs about cats and love and stuff. (I'll be honest, I wasn't paying much attention to what he was singing, because all I could think about was how I should be watching this on my phone with a blanket over my head like God and nature intended.) So if Tom was even more insane—which I have no doubt he was—I think I'd die, rise up, and die again just being in a room with him.

Speaking of cats, I swear Vic tweaked the lyrics of What's New Pussycat to be even more explicit than they originally were. When John Mulaney had his famous Salt & Pepper Diner bit, I too listened to What's New Pussycat 21 times. Sure I scrubbed it from my memory soon after, but I was pretty sure Tom in the song never paused between "pussy" and "cat"… Of which I was correct about when I later listened to What's New Pussycat 21 more times for the lols.

I see why Vic saved Tom for last, because the guy was sweating like mad having to do this high energy act for 20 solid minutes. He was jumping around and gesticulating wildly, I felt tired just looking at him.

The climax was his cover of I (Who Have Nothing), where he just went all-out vocally and it was truly a sight to behold, but we were clearly nearing the end. This next song would be Vic’s last.

He took a moment after that to towel himself off and recover a bit. Understandable. Slinging his jacket back on, he settled onto the stool with his drink. Just as he raised his water bottle to his lips, the first half second of I (Who Have Nothing) played again and promptly stopped. Then played again. Then stopped.

I thought it was a joke between the audio guy and him, because he played it off really well. "No way am I doing that again!" he joked between sips. When finished, he slid off his stool to help figure out what was going on.

Once everything was sorted, he broke into his rendition of It's Not Unusual, and everyone audibly cheered when it came on. He didn't do any grand stunts this time, just some easy swaying to close things out.

Afterwards, Vic was finally free to take some well-deserved rest.

The Aftermath

He stepped off, and it came time for us to pay for our food and all that. I thought about visiting Vic's merch table and saying something to him after, but he was engaged in conversation with some other people when I checked and I was left rather speechless at the time.

I didn't want to sour whatever rapport we had by saying/doing anything undeniably off-putting ("Nice gyrating, kind sir, here's a dollar!"). I also still had a long drive ahead of me, so I paid and slinked out of there. Anticlimactic, but I knew I would be back. I'd surely see him again, as this was too good and too esoteric for me to experience just once. So I left it there and hopped into my car.

On the drive back that night, I kept thinking to myself, "So, was it worth it or not?" And for some reason, I couldn't answer it. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy it, but I was feeling something deeper in my gut that I couldn't quite explain. Now I feel like I can.

This whole tribute scene is something too nostalgic and earnest for my generation to take seriously, but too normal for the people who lived it to realize the necessity in sharing it with others. How will this stuff continue to exist if we don’t see what makes it worthwhile? If it wasn’t for the strange journey that brought me here, I’d have been seriously missing out. Maybe other people just need that chance too.

While I did loosely intend on turning this experience into a blog post going in (why I recorded everything in the first place), I didn’t seriously consider making it a reality until that drive back. This show² became the reason why I’m giving this blog another try, because I want to capture more of this, whatever it is.

So, having written this all out, let’s ask again: was it worth those 400+ miles? Totally.

#longform #show-notes