So who cares about Stratford-on-Avon, the home of some British writing hack named Bill Shakespeare? Come on, people, we are talking about Elvis Presley….. and the amazing influence he had on our English cousins! Oddly enough, they are also celebrating (actually acknowledging) the anniversary of the King’s departure here in London town. Whence Lady Spendthrift (my wife) and I checked into our royal quarters in Buckingham Palace (actually The Egerton House Hotel) we ambled on down to Hyde Park (so named because it is well hidden from tourists like me) and as soon as we got through the hedgerow (not to be confused with the Heathrow) we were put upon by a band of ruffians! (actually three old ladies and one Elvis impersonator.)
As previously promised (to a local Elvis Presley Fan Club) I did some quick magic tricks to thunderous applause (all right, there might have been some booing and hissing) and then…… to everyone’s delight (except Lady Spendthrift) I read several pages from my brilliant mystery novel THE PRESLEY PLOT. I received another ovation (mainly sitting) as soon as I was finished reading! Hey, wait a minute, I wonder if they were clapping because I was done…… nevermind. At my age any applause is good.
For those of you who did not receive a personal email from me earlier this morning, I would like to say that London is quite charming and this hotel is truly exceptional. The flight from New York to London was rather smooth and easy, and because I’m so tough, I only needed 12 hours of sleep to recover! They don’t make men like me anymore. (No applause here!)
Last evening, her Ladyship and I dined on the best Lebanese food I ever had. Humus, pita, olives, green stuff. It was marvelous! This was an authentic place, and there were a number of folks from Arab countries in the restaurant. Believe it or not, there was a hooka right beside me! (Look it up, Helena!) I won’t go on and on about the hooka, but let’s just say she was curvaceous and hot and filled the room with steam!
Her Ladyship almost caused an international incident by trying to peek under an Arab chick’s veil, but I prevailed upon her to mind her own business. (Besides, some things are better left to the imagination!) Before we left, as a joke, I sold my wife to a very plump Sheik who was poorly dressed but dripping in diamonds. (You might say that he was an unchic sheik, if you like tongue twisters.) Anyway, I got two camels for my wife. Personally, I think she’s worth more than two cigarettes, but who am I to argue with a sheik? (When I balked, he threw in a goat. Now I can tell folks that I made a bad deal, but I really got his goat!)
I would love to hang around and amuse you further, but I am on my way to the Victoria and Albert Museum. These folks have a collection of great novels written by some of the English masters…… Lord Byron, Percy, Dickens, Lennon & McCartney, etc. Whence I arrive, I intend to ask the curator if he or she might be interested in purchasing a copy of THE PRESLEY PLOT. Why go to a museum if there is no Elvis memorabilia? Hopefully they will have a keen eye for great writing and corny jokes.
Well, my friends, pip pip and cheerio! I am off to conquer the rest of London! (I wish my friend Norman was here. Then we could reenact the Norman Conquest.)
Have a safe and happy day and I will write again soon……
Doc Yanoff a/k/a Lord Sleepsalot!