There is such a thing as Australian country music and I'm living it

A week in Tamworth is worth two in the bush or almost anywhere else. Famed world wide for it's giant golden guitar which allegedly gave birth to Elvis Presley himself, you'll find throngs of Memphis pilgrims trudging in their blue suedes here in the mighty New South, perhaps they're lost, they must be, since when was Elvis filed under Country Western (the only thing allowed to play on any radio here by law). Do enough line dancing and everything starts blending together, one great big blob of monotony. Then you meet the people, crazy, irrational, insane, people just like everyone else. Wow, people who listen to country music are people too. Some of them even buy Austar off you. I gave up one week of league training for this, so I'm happy I'll have some money to show for it. There's nothing else to do out here except heel and toe, one , two, three, (at a seedy bar) and/or look at that magical monument to Elvis greatness. We settled for the latter (Alt: I will insert the photo here when I track it down) and left our country friends with the unrivalled joys of satellite television. Rock on.