Finding Elvis Shakespeare in Edinburgh

I’ve been in Scotland for the last 8 days. I haven’t had a ton of free time, but there was kind of an unexpected afternoon off so I decided to go out into the streets of Edinburgh and seek out something I was determined to find. I mean, it was not like hidden treasure, I literally had the address, but still it’s fun to go out without a real plan and without really knowing where the hell I was going. I couldn’t get my orientation at first and did not anticipate the HILLS in Edinburgh. The location was a couple of miles away, and my Google map said it was a 29-minute walk. I thought, “Hey, that’s not bad. I’ve been sitting on my ass for about 4 days straight. It’ll be nice to have a walk!” I mentioned this to the doorman who gave me a look like, “……” He told me he lived in that area and it was a “bit of a way”. He called me a cab. As the driver took me there (whom, I of course, befriended. He told me that this area wasn’t originally part of Edinburgh proper, but then it was incorporated into the larger city) … but anyway, I started laughing at one point, trying to picture myself staggering down these hills for miles. I realized almost immediately how insane it would have been if I had tried to walk it. Not to mention walking home. I lived in San Francisco. I understand the challenge. This was far outside the tourist-y center of the city. Regular citizens live here. We weren’t sure where it would show up – it was clearly mid-block (and the blocks were really big) – but the street was wide – for tram rails – not a lot of traffic – and lined with establishments like laundromats and kebab shops and barbershops. Then, I saw it. “There it is!”

I was so excited! I didn’t even have to look both ways when I crossed the street to get to it because there really wasn’t any traffic. There were bins of albums on the sidewalk. I looked through them.

There was no real foot traffic in the area, at least not on a Monday afternoon. I know they have a huge online catalog, so I am sure a lot of their business comes from that. I was the only person in the shop. I looked in the front window and the first book I saw was …

I thought, “I am in the right place.”

I stepped into heaven on earth. I was greeted by the proprietor, David Griffin, who asked me if he could help me find anything. I said I wasn’t sure yet, but I’d like to look around. There were vinyls everywhere, separated by genre (also CDs and cassette tapes), and also second-hand books. It wasn’t just a jumble, everything was neatly organized, easily scannable. The selection was great, too. The space is small but it felt like a treasure chest (speaking of which …) I could have spent hours in there. I went in there with only one plan: to buy some Elvis vinyl, whatever they had in, I wasn’t picky. After that, I’d just browse and let the browsing take me. I walked into the back to look at the shelves there, and suddenly this beautiful curious dog, with a soft gentle manner, tiptoed towards me to say hello. She sniffed my hand forever. David told me her name (and I forget – sorry!), and that she basically spends all of her time there – and he pointed. In the back area there was a pink puffy comforter on the floor, clearly her area. “She nests. She drags the blanket around to make it the most comfortable. Sometimes she drags it halfway across the shop.” She walked back there and carefully lay down in her spot. She was like the angelic spirit of the place. Welcoming and open.

I talked to David for a bit, telling me a friend had told me about this place and I had to see it for myself. He told me a lot of people come and just take pictures, of the outside, of the albums on the wall. And then leave without buying anything. “Are you kidding me?” I asked. “I’m like, ‘I’m trying to run a business here, mates!'”

Time to get down to business. I told him I had searched the catalog to see what Elvis records they had and wasn’t sure how it all worked. He showed me the catalog on his computer and how it worked. (It really is impressive.) I said, “So I’d love to buy an Elvis record. I’m not picky. What do you have right now?” He said, “Will you be here next week? Someone’s donating 4,000 Elvis records.” “What?? No, I won’t be here next week. 4,000?” (Elvis Shakespeare runs on donations. If you’re looking to get rid of your collection of anything …)

He clicked around on the catalog. At that moment he had about 4 Elvis singles – “Green Green Grass of Home”, and … a couple of other 70s tracks. But he also had “Mess of Blues”, one of my favorites of Elvis’ early 60s period, off the Elvis is Back album. One of his rollicking-est tracks, he sounds unleashed, free – and in a different way than the unleashed-50s Elvis. He sounds like a man, not a boy. With that innocence, that pleasure.

So I said, “Mess of Blues, please!” David took me over to the drawer (all the singles were in drawers, organized by genre, and then alphabetically within genre). By the way, the store has a fun name, but it’s not like he just carries Elvis records and Shakespeare plays. If you’re a fan of punk or New Wave – the collection there is MASSIVE. So he pulled out the little 45, with the red RCA label, and it was beautiful and perfect. I was so excited!

Then I said I’d browse a little bit more. I wanted to buy something Scottish-related. I’m in Edinburgh. I’m not gonna buy Mark Twain in Scotland! So I started looking through the books. I kept getting sucked into the collection. These aren’t “rare” books, as far as I can tell – just paperbacks, but the collection itself was deep. Thoughtful. Like, the theatre section was particularly excellent. Lots of Scottish playwrights. I considered buying some Walter Scott. There was a collection of J.M. Barrie plays. Two strong contenders. But then I saw the collected works of a certain Scottish poet – THE Scottish poet – and the choice was made for me. Oh of course I’m buying this. There’s no other choice.

Then I browsed in fiction and one title popped out at me. There’s a strong Scottish connection with THIS book as well. I already have a copy, of course, as well as an annotated version of the book, but thought it would be fun to have a copy from Elvis Shakespeare.

My stash:

Very pleased!

I hung out for a while longer, chatting with David, and also his dog, who tiptoed out again to sniff around my hand. She was so sweet! I asked him what were the odds of me being able to catch a cab in this area. He gave me a doubtful look. “It’s been a long while since I’ve taken a cab. Way down at the end of this street there used to be a cab stand but I’m not sure if it’s there now. Where you going? Back up to the tourist area?” I told him where my hotel was. He said, “Your best bet would be to take a bus.” He told me the different numbers of the bus that would get me where I was going. Then he said, “Or you can take the tram. You’ll get off at Princes Street. You can pick it up right out front.”

Okay. Scared. But excited. He told me exactly what to do and I followed his instructions like a robot. I bought a one-way tram ticket. I asked a man standing there which side I wanted to get on if I wanted to get to Princes Street. The nice man told me everything. Me, reiterating: “So any train I get on on THIS side will stop there.” “Yes. Any train on this side will take you where you need to go.”

Everyone was right.

The tram was immaculate. It made me embarrassed for New York City’s appalling public transportation system. I got off at Princes Street, a fabulous area, really, and still had a massive hill to climb up – and then down again – to get to my home base … but it was all so gorgeous. The good thing about hills are: VIEWS.

I took my time. Enjoying the views. My legs felt it the next day. Lots of climbing. I didn’t buy anything else. I had brought a couple big books WITH me and hesitated to buy anything else I’d have to haul back. Figured two books and a 45 RCA Victor single was manageable.

David also gave me a little flier. I will keep it forever. It is so ridiculous and it makes me so happy. Look at the chest hair on Elvis Shakespeare!

Update: even more ridiculous, one of my old blog buddies – from literally day one – responded this way to my post about it on Facebook:

Loveth me tend’r, loveth me sweet
nev’r alloweth me wend
thee has’t madeth mine own life completeth
and i loveth thee so
loveth me tend’r, loveth me true
all mine own dreams fulfill
f’r, mine own ladybird, i loveth thee
and i at each moment shall