I Spoke Too Soon

Well, my aforementioned "best summer ever!" certainly did not turn out the way I planned.  No more will I be blabbing about forthcoming fun stuff. From now on I will only report about things that actually happened.  (Mentioning goals is different, and important, so I will likely still do that.)

Summer was a bummer for a couple of reasons.

1. Barry Manilow never came. Apparently he has way better things to do than visit silly Boise
(and  Salt Lake and Denver. Those two stops were canceled as well ).  His concert was originally set for June 8. Due to "scheduling conflicts" it was bumped to July 13th. That was the weekend I was set to come home a day early from a Lytle family camping trip so I could make it to the concert with my mom and sister.

The morning of the supposed concert, Ryan's brother approached me in the campground and asked if I'd heard the bad news. Uhhh, nope. How would I have heard any bad news when I was away from the Internet and all civilization?? Well, he said he'd driven up past the lodge where there was cell phone service to call his wife and check Facebook. One of his FB friends had shared that Barry was "postponing" that night's concert. Nnnnoooooooo.... I felt robbed. DANG IT!  We had been so excited to go. ='(  So I ended up staying the extra night camping since I had no real reason to leave.

It's been two months with no mention of a reschedule, so I finally called to get a refund today. I somehow doubt Mr. Manilow will make the effort to perform for his Idaho fans (he has at least 3 of them that I know of).  Oh well!  I'll have to settle for studio recordings of all his smash hits.

2. I hated myself for weeks after being a total dork at the much-anticipated They Might Be Giants in-store signing the day of their concert (June 9).  Really. I was so annoyed with me. Three months after the fact, I'm finally able to release information about it. Even though it's going to make me feel idiotic again. 

So, for starters, I went to the signing alone because nobody I knew wanted to go. That was my first bad idea. But the biggest bad idea was what I decided to wear. I wanted to be noticed, remembered. I adore the Johns (the two front men of the band). They create music that makes me feel happy. It's like nothing else out there; it's so unique and has the most awesome beats/sounds/melodies, in my reliable opinion.

I'm the type of person who needs frequent validation. If I go out of my way to do something to get attention and nobody acknowledges my efforts, I feel awkward and unappreciated. Pretty dumb, but true.

Anyway. One of the songs from their most recent album is "Call You Mom".  It is catchy, fun, and clever. Here are a few lines of it:

"I think I'd like to call you Mom
'Cause you remind me of my mom
I'm gonna go put on my sailor suit
And we'll go out on the town
...... (later in the song)
And then I'm gonna call her You
'Cause she'll remind me of you
I'm gonna dress her in a sailor suit
That would look very cute"

So I found in a closet an infant-sized white-and-light-blue sailor suit that my brother wore as a baby.
I thought I'd be "cute" and fasten it around my neck (using an elastic strap) at the signing.
And that I would print off one of those "Hello my name is" tags and handwrite "Mom" in the appropriate spot. I kept thinking, this is gonna be good . . . they're gonna notice me. Can anyone guess how this ends?

The time arrived and I departed for downtown over an hour early so I could have a spot to wait for the big, up close and personal moment. I was there plllllenty early. I thought about leaving the sailor suit in the car, but told myself I'd taken the time (a few stinking minutes) to put together my "costume", and that I would be brave and go for it.

I put it on as the band was setting up their instruments. I was feeling self-conscious, but I was at the point of no return, or so I thought. Some hippie dude walked past and said, "Hey, you got yer sailor suit! But you don't remind me of my mom . . . I wish!" I smiled and muttered,  "that would be weird."

But at least someone knew what I was going for. I saw a couple of Ryan's childhood friends there. I worried that they were embarrassed for me.

After the band played their short set, they situated themselves behind a table so fans could line up and get stuff signed. I stood a few people behind Ryan's friends. I had just learned that the store would be allowing photos to be taken of each fan standing behind John and John. GREAT! I didn't have a camera since mine was broken! And I don't have a phone that I can retrieve pictures from. Because I'm a cheapskate. And I am super slow at attaining newfangled electronics (some of which are now oldfangled because I am always that late to the party).  I had thought of borrowing someone's camera for the day, but I didn't want to inconvenience anyone, plus I thought I'd just live in the moment and not worry about taking pictures.

So, a once in a lifetime photo-op and no camera. Crud. I casually (nervously) asked Ryan's old pal, Tim, if he would take a picture of me and the Johns when it was my turn, and if he could just send it to my email. He said he would. He seemed at the time like he really would send it. Soon I was up. I had brought along a CD, "The Spine", which I had just discovered and ordered the previous week. Somehow I missed this gem from 2004.

Anyway, I clumsily approached the table and presented the CD to "Flansy", asking him if he would sign my spine.  Ha. He sort of snickered as he repeated my carefully planned line. I told him I'd just gotten it last week and he said, "that's cool". Meanwhile, John Linnel was saying something. He was trying to politely tell me to get out of the way because there was someone behind the table trying to get a picture taken. Aaaaaghh! I felt sooooooo sheepish. Let's not forget I was wearing that silly sailor suit about my neck. (I should note that I was wearing a real shirt too; not just the tiny sailor suit. In case anyone was getting extra worried for me.) I wanted to remove the darn neck decoration before my picture, but I didn't want to hold up the long line, so I kept it on.

Neither of the Johns acknowledged the sailor suit. And why would they? They are men. They were facing a huge crowd of folks wanting their crap autographed. They were nearing the end of a lengthy, likely tiring tour. But since they didn't say anything, I assumed they thought I was a dunderhead for doing it. Maybe they did, maybe they didn't. It shouldn't matter. Maybe they have seen crazier things in their day. And I'm not saying it was crazy of me to do. It just didn't turn out the way I'd hoped.

So I kicked myself for it. I could not get over it for a long time. It even put a damper on my experience at the actual concert that night. It was a super entertaining show, but I kept feeling haunted by the fool I had made of myself that afternoon. I don't think I would have felt so dumb if I hadn't been alone (at the signing). I was extra vulnerable because of it. (I brought Ryan, Gavin, Maren and Erin to the concert with me.)

Back to the black part of that day. It seems like such a little thing now, but it was causing me serious anguish. I kept replaying over and over in my head what I wished I had done, which was "throw the sailor suit to the very back of the car before going to the signing". When I got home that night after the concert, I tossed the suit in a box in the garage so I wouldn't have to look at it. I tore up the name tag and threw it away. I had trouble sleeping because I was so mad at myself. I cried the next day about it, trying to purge it from my mind. I couldn't listen to any TMBG music for a few weeks because it brought back a flood of remorse.

As I type this now, I realize I was over-reacting a little, but at the time I was truly tormented. Mostly because I had ruined my chance of getting a shareable picture of me with two of my favorite musicians. I'd looked like a ninny for it.

Three months later and I still haven't received the picture. I don't know if I even want it anyway. Ryan and I saw the guy one evening a couple of weeks after the concert, and he said he hadn't even looked at any of the pictures on his camera because he'd been so busy, but that he would get to it. I will believe it when I see it.

After posting this story, I won't be surprised if I get picked up tomorrow and taken away to a place with straight jackets and white, padded rooms.

I just hope it has a ball pit. And refreshments.