Holly Springs in north Mississippi has some interesting historic attractions. Probably. I wouldn't know. I didn't bother looking for them. Holly Springs is a bit out of the way even if you happen to be in the state, but this picturesque town -- which apparently changed hands 62 times during the Civil War -- is a useful midpoint on the Elvis Trail between his birthplace in Tupelo about 100 kilometres southeast and his home Graceland in Memphis where he died.

It was an interest in Elvis which took me to Holly Springs, or more correctly an interest in his somewhat strange father Paul. Now, if you're an Elvis fan you'll know Elvis' father was Vernon, so it’s not that Elvis. I'm talking about Elvis Aaron Presley McLeod and his dad Paul who have converted their large two-storey home on the corner of Randolph and Gholson into one of America's oddest attractions, a shrine to Elvis (the real one) called Graceland Too.

We find the place without too much trouble -- the woman at the visitors' centre points us to the house about 200 metres away down the charming tree-lined avenue -- and with some hesitation we approach the front door of the pillared villa. It is framed by large cement lions painted lolly pink and chained down, and cheap Christmas tree tinsel decoration. We know we've come to the right place, there is the whiff of Elvis and insanity about it.

Graceland Too bills itself as open 24 hours every day of the year so we are disappointed but oddly relieved when, after knocking cautiously and then with some fervour, we get no reply. We're happy enough to take some photos and laugh about the tawdry red, white and blue decorations, and are just about to leave when a sweaty, energetic and enthusiastic man emerges from a side gate which leads to a back yard hidden behind a high wooden fence. It is Paul and he is apologetic. He was working in the garden and hadn't heard our knocks. Working on what, I ask.

"Well, you know Jailhouse Rock, the movie, I'm building that whole prison cell set out back, the one with the jail doors where the guys dance and Elvis slides down the pole. Lemme wash up and I'll meet you at the front door. I guess you want to see round the house."

Ahh, I guess. And so for 90 very strange minutes we are taken on a conducted tour of the entrance hall, four claustrophobic rooms and a corridor, all the time with rapid-fire narration from Paul.

To be honest Paul wasn't entirely comprehensible. His top plate was loose and kept falling out. Overweight and with his thick grey hair slicked back with visible comb marks through the grease, Paul McLeod is a man with an admirable if singular focus. If it's anything to do with Elvis he's either got it, or wants it. Read More...