Elvis Presley Museum - Elvis Presley Museum 51 Argyle Street

When it comes to Elvis jokes, Kevin, David Wasley (KD) has heard them all. He’s often told it wouldn’t do to get all shook up with his paintbrush in his job as a contract painter and paperhanger.

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People look at his feet and ask where are his blue suede shoes? He’s knows by some as The King. Not that KD minds. He’s as enamoured of the man as he ever was. KD owns the Elvis Presley Memorial Record Room at 51 Argyle Street, Hawera, and don’t let the fact that it’s in his garage put you off.

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Step inside and it’s a veritable shrine to the singer from Memphis who died 16th August, 1977, though KD, self-styled curator will argue, “it’s a celebration of Elvis’ life” he says, “not his death”. And so, very definitively, it is. Elvis on the walls and the ceiling. Elvis on the glasses, mugs, ties, cufflinks, book sleeves, album covers, even the barstools. The television plays endless Elvis reruns.

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There’s an accumulation of Presley detritus on every flat surface, and on round, curved, and oval ones to boot. It’s probably fair comment that KD is, and will always be, intimately involved with The King. Everything in hi own personally-appointed museum comes with a known history. Simply straying too long in front og an old china cabinet can jumpstart a flowing dialogue.

Rock around the record room “I’ve got hundreds of things” KD says, as he casually surveys the room. “These records over here might mean nothing to anyone else, but they came out of a juke box in Tennessee. The middle one, that’s an original recording. I paid phenomenal amount for those – 75c each – and they’re priceless, today, priceless.

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“See that bloke there?” He asks. “His name is Roy, he was my pen pal. Not an Elvis fan. He’s got more photos of Mt Egmont\Taranaki in his lounge than I have got of Elvis. When I was at High School, I wanted a pen pal in the States, and it had to be in Memphis, because that’s where my hero lived. Well, Roy happened to want a pen pal in New Zealand. I was like a rat up a drainpipe. I got my block and chisel out and wrote to him. He wrote back. A lot of things he got for me”

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For visitors, it’s KD’s passionate oratory that accompanies them around the floor. KD’s a natural raconteur, with an erudite feel for his subject. He’s read every Elvis book, heard every Elvis song. There surely can’t be much about the man he doesn’t know. And better still, he likes to share it. “I’d probably not be exaggerating if I say I’ve had thousands through here” he says. “I clock in roughly 50 years at the end of next year.”