Days before Elvis Presley took the stage at the Polk Theatre on Aug. 6, 1956, on a Florida swing of concerts, a columnist wrote about his show in Miami.
“Elvis can’t sing, can’t play the guitar — and can’t dance,” pronounced Herb Rau in The Miami News.
And yet, Rau said, “He has two thousand idiots” who attend his shows.
15 minutes of fame
Elvis was getting that kind of greeting from the press everywhere that summer. And the ardor of his teenaged fans was undimmed.
In Lakeland, they lined up by the hundreds outside the Polk.
Elvis played three shows in Lakeland that day, from the afternoon into the evening. Each was two hours long, with multiple acts, including a comedian emcee and a vocal group —and then, for the last 15 minutes, the 21-year-old came onstage and performed his hits “Heartbreak Hotel” and “Hound Dog.”
Six feet tall, with dyed-black hair, dressed in a white shirt, black slacks and two-toned shoes, Elvis sang and moved. The Lakeland youth who had paid the $1.50 admission crowded around the lip of the stage in awe.
Girls screamed. Lakeland Police officers, also down front, kept a close eye on Elvis and the teens.
Unusual furor
At the same time, the Lakeland Ledger was on the streets with an editorial:
“Elvis Presley is in Lakeland today and teen-age girls from all over Polk County are converged on the Polk Theatre to get a good look at him and hear his voice. As the tumult rages, most adults look on with attitudes that range from amusement to disgust.
“This newspaper, like other newspapers where he has appeared, has given more than passing attention to him not because he is an important public figure, which he isn’t, but because he has managed to create unusual furor and frenzy …
“His contortions are vulgar and his quivering, high-strung, nervous style of singing is a long way from being high-class art.”
It concluded: “Such frenzy cannot go on indefinitely.”
In a Ledger review, Jack Skelly wrote that Elvis uttered “the following vocal tones for 15 minutes: ‘oh, ooo, ah, hee, oo, eee, ah, oo.’ That was it.”
Any striptease babe
Backstage, between the Polk shows, Elvis gave a lengthy interview to Tampa Tribune reporter Paul Wilder.
“Elvis, this is your first time in Lakeland. What do you think of the crowd tonight?” Wilder asked.
“Well sir, it was real nice,” Elvis said. “The crowd was just wonderful, and they gave me a great welcome. I appreciate that very much.”
The interview quickly took a turn as Wilder read excerpts to Elvis from Rau’s Miami News column.
Elvis, Rau said, “shakes his pelvis like any striptease babe in town.”
“Do you shake your pelvis like any striptease babe in town?” Wilder asked him.
Elvis was startled. For one of the few times in his career he actually showed anger, biographer Peter Guralnick recounted.
Wilder probably knew more about “striptease babes” than he did, from hanging out in those kinds of places, Elvis said.
“Sir, those kids that come here and pay their money to see this show come to have a good time,” he continued. “They’re somebody’s decent kids, probably, that was raised in a decent home … if they want to pay their money to come out and jump around and scream and yell, it’s their business.”
What, Wilder asked, did he think about Rau suggesting that what his female fans really needed was “a solid slap across the mouth”? Did he have a comment about that?
“Yeah,” Elvis said, “but I don’t think I should say it.”
Robert Meyerowitz is a reporter for LkldNow, a nonprofit newsroom providing independent local news for Lakeland. Read at LkldNow.com.
