His voice, lip curl and jumpsuits are unmistakable, and his influence on pop culture is undeniable. Thirty-two years ago this Sunday, Elvis Presley died in his Graceland home at the age of 42.

In celebration of Presley’s life, singer-songwriter Vili Verhovsek (who performs under the name Vili V) considers the King’s television legacy and how it helped shape his life. Exclusively for TVGuide.ca, he tells his story in his own words.

***

The rusty rabbit ears on our family television were working for once as I waited with sweaty anticipation for the TV signal to come through. This was no ordinary Saturday night – I was eight, it was the 1980s and music video icons were invading pop culture.

Huddled in the family room, I looked forward to the concert of a lifetime. You’re probably thinking it was Madonna. Nope. Michael Jackson? Nah. Prince? No way. I was waiting for a repeat of Elvis Presley’s 1973 Aloha From Hawaii satellite concert, which originally reached one billion viewers live and 500 million more on delay.

Finally, the overture began and transitioned into what seemed like game show music – part down-home blues, part showbiz glitz. Then Elvis swaggered out dressed in white sequins, like a prince from ancient times or even another planet.

With a bronze tan, jet-black hair and sideburns that looked like two giant triangles pasted to his face, he began to sing: “Oh see, see see rider, oh see what you have done.”

I was hooked. It was my first time seeing Elvis on television and definitely not my last. But little did I know the impact he was going to make on my life and future career ….

***

When I was a kid, we lived on a two-and-a-half acre farm near Smithville, Ont. They were happy times and we listened to all kinds of music – traditional Slovenian songs, country, rock ‘n’ roll and pop – but Elvis always seemed to inspire me to sing. His music was like an old friend, faithful and true.

In my teens I became obsessed with Elvis, combing my hair like him, dancing like him and gobbling up his many TV performances. Watching clips of him singing “Hound Dog” on The Milton Berle Show, I tried with guitar in hand to nail an imitation of his leg gyrations, which rolled like jelly, fluid and precise.  

Bent on getting his mannerisms and vocal inflections just right, I also pored over the 1990 Elvis mini-series starring Michael St. Gerard, the Elvis: '68 Comeback Special concert and the documentaries This is Elvis and Elvis ’56, among others.

And then there were his 31 movies, cheesy as some of them seem now. It was Elvis the race car driver, Elvis the boxer, Elvis the tour guide and Elvis the singing bus boy. Good always prevailed over evil: like a highly tanned Superman, he always beat up the bad guys, saved the day and got the girl.

But most important, I tried to sing like Elvis and people told me I was good at it. So when I saw a newspaper ad for the first Collingwood Elvis Festival in 1995, I quickly signed up for the competition – and ended up winning it two years in a row.

I then knew I wanted to sing for a living, and those hip-swivelling days had another perk – the girls at high school started taking notice. They crowded around as I belted out “Heartbreak Hotel” and “Are You Lonesome Tonight” in the halls, and screamed and cried when I sang Elvis songs in the talent show. (I kid you not.)

I later studied music at Mohawk College in Hamilton, aiming for least a fraction of the success Elvis had. He seemed to follow me everywhere, and Elvis-influenced characters littered the TV screen – Uncle Jesse on Full House, The Fonz on Happy Days reruns and the guys sporting pompadours on Beverly Hills, 90210.

(At school they called me Brandon Walsh and sang the 90210 theme when I walked down the halls. Again, I kid you not.)

***

Now, I have my own music career, producing concerts and recordings. And though I listen to Elvis’s music and catch the odd TV special or movie, I’m not as obsessed as before. Elvis is at the core of my nostalgic memories, but I never wanted to be him, worship him or be a ripoff of him.

He helped me find a part of myself and taught me to dream of life’s possibilities and never give up. Though he died too young, his movies, concerts and TV specials will always be around for other generations to discover.

So to Elvis, I’ll offer the same words he sang in the Aloha From Hawaii special: “I’ll remember you.”

Incidentally, my mom still wants me to cut my pompadour and shave my sideburns, but they’re bigger and hairier than ever. Some things are worth holding on to.

Thoughts? Email Vili at viliandmelissa@sympatico.ca or check out his website

 

Follow TV Guide Canada on Facebook