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There once was a RELATIVELY "young" girl named Snow*... =)
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...Well, actually the name-thing is a rather technical issue, fraught with grainy details and minuscule overtures. However, for the situation-at-hand, we will just stick with "Snow*". ...(The "*" is silent...LOL ;)
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So, "young" Snow* is a certified, 70s/80s rock-idol groupie girl...tried and true...no doubt about it. Just as she is holding onto the tenuous threads of her rapidly vanishing youth, by the spackle and bondo of ultra-awesome hairspray and the best glitter available on the Black Market (aka: eBay ;)...
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...She can appreciate the value of faded super-stardom...having the ability to overlook the lines and creases on her former teen-idols...mentally filling-in the receding hairlines with her mind's-eye...viewing her young crushes with the verve and sparkle of the newly-hatched.
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One day, Snow* stumbled upon a group of young women who suffered from the same affliction...the misplaced adoration of one former, ULTRA MEGA hot-crotched, lion-maned 70s/80s teen idol...the hair-of-hair...the "package"-of"packages"...the voice-of voices...and the SUPER EGO-of-SUPER EGOS!
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However, this small group of women, all fabulous in their own ways, forged a collective friendship worthy of the Silver Screen...rivaling the sagas expounded upon in such cinematic epic chick-flicks as: "Fried Green Tomatoes", "Steel Magnolias", "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants", "First Wives Club", etc. etc.
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Snow* (now grudgingly accepting the fact that she is no longer "young", nor "fresh"...grrr...) slowly allowed the admiration of other 70s/80s superstars to become a part of her life.
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One formerly overlooked, major 80s heart-throb was brought to the forefront of the discussion quite frequently, allowing her short-attention-span to grasp the star-power and sexy-as-hell qualities which this performer exudes.
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And he is none other than RICK SPRINGFIELD...the OTHER "R.S."...the man who is "hard to hold" wants to "love somebody", and is obsessed with "Jesse's girl".
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Okay, so...target sighted...locked-and-loaded...Snow* commenced to fully examine this "new" Super Nova from the 80s.
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And, upon further inspection, he proved himself to be ultra-worthy! Rick Springfield is a man who has only gotten BETTER with time. The years have made him MUCH more sexy...and his full-throttle, rock-and-roll ability, combined with his earnest and soul-dredging ballads and heart-felt delivery has forever sealed his fabulousness in the minds of all 40-ish, pre-menopausal women about the globe.
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These women dream the dreams of Rick coming home to them after a hard tour on the road...a tour which he sings songs scribed specifically for them...where he gives frequent shout-outs to his one and only true love...for when the moment comes when he tries to silently creak open the back door of their sprawling Cape Code-inspired "cottage"...quietly setting his guitar case by the back door...
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...He slips out of his comical black and white "Chuck Taylor" low-top sneakers...shucks out of his jeans and black pull-over on his way to the bedroom...setting his sexy, onyx-framed glasses on the nightstand...and slides in under the crisp cotton sheets to draw his lady up close to him...breathing in the scent of her hair, and absorbing her warm, sleep-tousled scent into him...relieved that, at long last...he is finally "home"...and with the love of his life...
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Each and every women he comes into contact with holds this fantasy close to her heart...shrouding it in protective coverings from the reality of their actual day-to-day hum-drumness...from their husbands with the thinning hair, from the women standing in line behind them at the supermarket, perusing the supermarket rags for bits and pieces of their idols' lives...from their kids who think that "mom" is "old" and out-of-touch with the times.
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This fantasy, and others like it, are just a little part of what makes the 40-ish gals smile secretly to themselves in the middle of the night...or when they are driving to pick up the kids from school or soccer practice, and one of the much-loved smash-ballads of our more formative years...(a time known as the FREAKING AWESOME 80s, baby! ;)...
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...cues-up on the radio of the mini-van, and we are once again transported back to that junior high or high school dance, mooning over our school crush, hoping he would ask us to dance...as we stand in a cluster with our girlfriends, all decked-out in our brand new mall outfit (purchased just that day)...replete with multiple Swatch Watches, big hair, and massive, dangling earrings.
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So...with this all in-mind, it was a major source of excitement when Snow* was informed by her boss at her casino-concert-club job that she was to actually help HOST the Rick Springfield private, acoustic mini-concert, take part in the meet-and-greet afterwards, and actually have the opportunity to meet the man himself...and get a picture with him!
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It was a major Elaine-from-Seinfeld, "Get Out!" moment. ;)
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So, the day-of-show, Snow* took extra care with her appearance...exasperated and equally bummed that way more effort and time is required to look like a presentable groupie girl, than it ever did in the past. There is a fine line between looking "good", and looking ridiculous...like one is trying "too hard".
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Alas, sometimes that line is probably crossed...but not for lack of trying to maintain one's awesome groupie girl persona and aura of coolness. (But, dammit all..."age" is simply a BITCH.)
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When the time came for the special event/mini-concert to start taking shape, Snow* was all a-twitter with excitement. Her boss derived great glee in watching her shine like a kid on Christmas morning...being so totally wrapped in her element that everything faded in comparison.
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However, the young 23 year-old waitress who was roped into helping with this event was less-than-enthused. When it was time for the group from the radio station to start setting-up for the event...hanging banners and such...Snow* had to educate said-waitress on exactly whom our hero-of-the-hour was! (Depressing times, indeed.)
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The event was scheduled to commence at 5pm...but was pushed back to closer to 5:30 or 6pm. Rick was still at the Family Arena (a couple miles down the road), and his pre-concert sound-check there was running longer than anticipated.
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The concert-club at the casino was to open at 7pm for regular business hours...and Rick's private gig there was to last about 45 min. Things were definitely getting cut close to the wire.
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Plus, the word was out that President George W. Bush was in town, as well as Presidential-candidate John McCain...(one flying in, and one flying out)...on the campaign trail. So, therefore, all major highways and exits were shut-down for that hour, successfully paralyzing the city during rush hour.
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Thankfully, Rick was already in town, and was only brief moments away...well-away from any major highways and bi-ways.
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The group of about 50 middle-aged women, all stacked-up outside the doors, straining to get in...were getting restless. Many of the group were all bedecked in their happy hour finery...with perfectly coiffed do's and brightly lacquered, acrylic nails.
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Most of them had the air of "wife and mother" about them. However, there were also quite a few "cougars" in the mix, as well. These women were DEFINITELY "on the prowl"...married at one time, but now divorced...and apparently having purchased themselves a fresh new set of plastic boobies with their windfall from their divorce settlement.
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Now, they are overly-tanned, freshly exfoliated, all tricked-out in their leopard-print bustiers and questionable "Chanel" bags. These are "pack women"...carousing in groups with other cougars of their ilk.
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These are the women that actually thought they had a chance to score with said 80s heart-throb. Pathetic...truly pathetic. (And, there but for the Grace of God go I!...Thank God I hate leopard prints, the overly-tanned look, nail artifice, and the Silicone Valleys! ;)
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The doors were kept shut on the rabid 40-Somethings...while the stirrings of "something" taking shape inside were beginning.
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A few people came in the side door from the outside parapet area, entering the stage area thru the side stage-door off the parapet. These were obviously techie-types, there to fine-tune the set-up and arrangements.
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One man of questionable import took the stage. He was tall and lanky, with black hair, and a handsome countenance...appearing to be about the same age as Rick. He took the stage, picked-up the acoustic guitar which was propped center-stage on a guitar stand...and perched his long frame onto the wooden stool set on the center of the stage.
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He commenced to pick a few diddies out on the guitar, fine-tuning the instrument as he went. At one point in this brief interlude of entertainment, he cracked, "This is a little tune I wrote"...as he played the opening chords to "Stairway to Heaven". ;)
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At that point, the waitress turned to Snow* and asked, "Is that him?"
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OM-freaking-G.
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>major eye-roll<
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Youth is sooo wasted on the young! Aughhh... ;(
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Soon thereafter, the side door opened once again, and...BAM!...THERE HE WAS! Slowly loping his way across the stage was RICK-FREAKING-SPRINGFIELD!!! :O
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He was decked out in afore-mentioned blue jeans, ridiculously charming black and white Chuck Taylor's, thin black jersey shirt...toting a Starbuck's coffee cup...and looking sexy-as-hell...with slightly long, tousled hair, onyx-framed glasses, and a self-possessing presence of complete comfort in his own skin.
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"OHMIGOD, it's HIM. :O ...OHMIGOD...THERE HE IS!" Snow* gasped out to her boss, who stood there grinning from ear to ear that she was so giddy about the whole business.
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The waitress, on the other hand, was far less enthused, and informed her boss and bartender that she was going to go check on her tables in the neighboring restaurant.
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Hrmphhh...twit.
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While Snow* had never really appreciated the awesomeness of this man "back in the day"...and has just developed a working knowledge of what he stands for, and his amazing talent...she had never really BEHELD the man, the myth, the legend.
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Well, let me tell you...it was an AWE-INSPIRING moment. Truly worthy of Oxygen being sucked right out of the room!
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Just seeing him stride across the stage..."her" stage...in "her house"...a mere 25 feet away...and him smiling up there, all exuding sex and self-effacing amazingness...well, that was just a "moment" in progress!
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Holeeeeee-CRAP!
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Finally, the natives were let in thru the double doors...and they rushed to the seats directly in front of the stage...cameras in-hand, freshly-applied lipstick as their armor.
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There were maybe one or two completely pathetic, portly, short, balding men amidst the group of cougars and soccer moms. These few men were sporting their slightly greasy comb-overs, were be-garbed in high-waisted jeans, covering their rather prominent backsides, with their non-descript shirts tucked far into the waistband of said jeans...belted prominently...with fanny packs securely flapping against their paunch.
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The "ICK"-vibe which these men gave off was palpable...just the question of WHY such rabid fans were there made one shudder. ;( Blechhh...
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However, time was paramount, and wasting precious moments of such a once-in-a-lifetime event on these derelicts was out of the question. So...on with the show!
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Snow*, being the bartender, had absolutely nothing to do...as far as bartending went. For, of course, none of these broads were going to actually order anything. They had much bigger bridges to burn...trying to catch the eye of one former teen-idol.
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However, a few of them DID come to the bar initially, to get several ice waters. (Yippee...Snow* is sooo over-qualified to make ice waters!)
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And, when said rabid-fans engaged Snow* in conversation at the bar, they were all very surprised to learn that Snow* did not only know who Rick Springfield was, but was a fan as well! They all thought that Snow* was much too young to have known who the hell he was...freaking LMAO!
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Hee-hee...well, THAT certainly felt great to hear! At least the cougar-mentality and aura has not overtaken our "young"-ish heroine. ;)
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Rick finally started his "show"...never really playing any full songs...just portions thereof...and chatting with his audience as he went.
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He strummed-out "Love Somebody", as well as "Jesse's Girl"...to the complete rapture of his audience. And...to the complete rapture of Snow*...whom edged all the way to the side-front of the stage, and was transfixed with glee by the reality of it all.
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This was AMAZING!
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Who had time to BREATHE (much less, could remember HOW), when Rick Springfield was just mere feet away, singing to "HER"???
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*sigh...swoon* ... ;)
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Holy crap...where had she been all of his life? Why had she never been witness to his awesomeness???
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(Well, thank God for Karen, and her little posse of on-line gals...they had truly opened new doors of enlightenment for Snow*! LOL! ;)
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Rick only strummed through about 4 or 5 songs...and never touched on his new stuff. He said he was saving that for the concert. But, what he DID perform was MAJOR. WOW. =)
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Several of the nit-wits in the audience were on their cell phones during the performance...one phone even rang...chiming out the tunes to "Jesse's Girl"...LOL.
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Well, Rick kept telling these broads to get off their phones...and finally he made one gal give him her phone, and he was talking to her husband from his place on the stage. All of the hyenas thought this was great fun, and such a lark (although, Snow* is betting that he does this schtick often).
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However, it went over with a bang...and it appeared that the hubby on the other end of the phone was LESS then enthused by it all. Rick ended the call with some type of racy comment, designed to make the hubby believe that his wife and the superstar were gettin' rather "close".
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That drew a laugh from the bevy of estrogen laden gals (and the weird, icky, paunchy men as well)...and you just KNEW that the wife was in for an argument once she finally got home to her annoyingly possessive husband.
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Good times.
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Personally, Snow* would never have answered the phone...much less even had the damned thing ON! How RUDE. ;(
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For the duration of the brief "concert", Snow* made her way about the concert venue, snapping pics as she went...trying to get as many good shots as possible. Alas, to her supreme consternation, she has proven herself to be a complete technological retard...and apparently did not have the camera on the correct setting...resulting in most of the pix just turning out depressingly blurry. Grrr... =(
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While Rick was in the midst of cuing up another song, the radio personality from the station cut in on the microphone with how they did not want to "take up all of Rick's time", and that he "had a concert to get to."
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DRATS!
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Annoying, ugly, fat bastard. ;( ...Shut UP...let the man play some more! Arghhh...
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Rick appeared a bit surprised, strummed a few more chords, and dutifully placed his guitar back in its stand, and was herded by the radio people over to the "Y-98 FM" backdrop which they had pre-hung off to the side of the stage, in order to pose in front of for pictures. (Oh, and the event was also sponsored by "Arby's"...big whoop.)
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The audience was pre-warned that they would be taking pics with Rick in groups of 4 or 5 people...that to expedite matters, there would be people in their pics that they did not even know. No one-on-one pics would be allowed.
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Well, that sure flew out the window immediately! For, EVERYONE was getting their pic taken individually with Rick! The only groups were the ones which came together...the hyenas which were running in packs.
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Snow* waited until the line died down, before hustling her rhinestone-clad, "BeBe"-jeans ass up there.
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She had her camera in-hand, as well as a silver Sharpie-marker, which she had found next to the cash register...and her red rubber-encased metal bottle opener, and a piece of paper, which she had fed-up off of the register-tape.
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Allrightey, then...commence "moment in the sun"! ;)
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Everyone got their pics taken relatively quick. However, there was the incident when about 7 women argued their way past the door-guy, and into the club...women whom had NOT won tickets to the special event...but whom were going to the actual concert...and one of their girlfriends had won a ticket to the meet-and-greet.
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So, somehow they were able to push their way in, horn-in on the front of the line, and jump in a group pic with their girlfriend and Rick!
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Bitches.
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The guy who had previously tuned-up Rick's guitar was apparently more than just his techie/roadie...possibly his manager...for he was supremely PISSED at how the meet-and greet was being handled...how all the rules about group pics were thrown out the window, and how the rabid women were basically running the show.
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He strode past Snow* at that point, when the 50-year old harpies were accosting Rick for their photo, saying to her, "This is fucking BULLSHIT!"
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Snow* gave him her best empathetic smile, and commiserated with, "I know, I know...totally a bunch of crap."
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He walked off in disgust, completely giving up on the meet-and-greet being handled in the manner that it should...for it was the radio personalities who were dropping the ball, and allowing the "bitches" to get the better of them.
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So, how it worked was: Each chick (and weird, fat, bald dude) was allowed about 30 seconds of Rick's time. They would meet him, he shook hands, signed whatever was thrust in front of him, and then they would pose for pix.
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The radio station had their camera there, and they took a pic of each fan with Rick for their website...and the other radio chick would use the fan's camera to take another pic for said fan.
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Well, as Snow* got closer to the "prize", she was all aflutter, but could see that just this brief outing had totally taken its toll on Rick. It was probably more due in-part to him traveling and touring so much (and with him not getting any younger, either)...but he just looked so damn TIRED.
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Snow* felt quite badly for him. He was forcing his smiles, had bags under his eyes, and was obviously quite not "into" the whole thing. You could just tell that he was wiped-the-hell-out, and was wondering how he was going to dredge-up the fabled energy he was touted to display on-stage for his rapidly encroaching concert.
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Still, the tiredness, and the human-ness of it all made him that much more appealing. He was just a MAN...a man whom everyone wanted a piece of...who was sexy as hell with his tousled hair...a man who made Snow*s pathetic little groupie girl heart palpitate within her meager breast.
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OMG...It was suddenly HER TURN. :O
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She approached Rick with, "OMG...it's my turn...I am beyond excited to meet you!"
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(Twittering like a nit-wit...that's pure, 100%, unadulterated Snow*!)
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She thrust out her hand, to shake his...and, bless his sweaty hide, and adorable heart...he just envelped her in one big, sweaty bear-hug instead...OMG!...Indeed!
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She had him sign her bottle opener and the piece of register paper. (And, oddly enough, she noticed later that his signature...a practiced and scrawled "RS" was MUCH like that of the OTHER "R.S." Quite similar, actually...although, there are really not too many ways to dash out an "RS", huh?)
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Then, it was photo-opt time. Hot damn! :)
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Feeling the rush of the moment...knowing that her moment in the sun was soon about to fade, and not wanting to screw it up...that is precisely what happened.
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Snow* is a moron...and some things will just never change.
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She gave her camera to the radio station chick...and was flustered when she had both cameras aimed at them at the same time. She just knew that both of those pics were going be taken at the same time, and that one of the pics was going to be ruined, because she would be looking the wrong way...and it was probably going to be HER pic with HER camera!
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What to do...what to do...???
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Rick had his arm slung around the back of Snow*s neck for the pic...and she had her left arm firmly planted about his waist...memorizing his slim build, and just the general FEEL of him. A super nice "feel", indeed. =)
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With his arm draped about her shoulders...basically about her neck, it was TOTALLY smooshing her hair against her shoulders! NOT GOOD! This is a total pet peeve of hers...and she just had to grin and bear it. Aughhhh...!!! ;(
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So, there they were, her hair getting ripped out of her head by one sexy, sweaty, tired, super-star...the tour manager stalking around, pissed as hell...and facing the very real dilema of WHICH CAMERA TO LOOK AT!?!? :O
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Shit!
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Of course, she screwed it all up.
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She smiled very quickly for the Y-98 camera, and then panicked and rapidly spun her head to the right, to make sure that if HER camera "went off", that at least she would take a good pic for THAT one.
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Well, the Y-98 camera's shutter clicked just as Snow* turned her head...ensuring that pic was a bust...and then she quickly smiled for her camera (still mesmerized by the very fact that RICK SPRINGFIELD and her had their arms around each other!!! OMG!!!)...
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...At this point, Rick somehow felt it necessary to POINT OUT which camera to look at...annnnddddd...
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HE TOTALLY RUINED THE PICTURE!
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Snow* was hustled off, as the next groupie had her "moment"...and as she slowly ambled a few feet away, she clicked her camera onto "view"...and saw that Rick had his ENTIRE ARM across Snow*s face in the photo!!! :O
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NOOOOOOOOOO!!!
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This is just NOT going to fly! ;(
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So, she rushed back to the chick who had taken the picture, showed her what had happened, and told her that she just HAD to let her take another picture with Rick...that this was NOT going to work!
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At that point Rick was quite done with it all, and was being rounded-up by his handlers, but he very graciously posed for another pic with her.
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Awesome.
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Except for the whole smashing of the hair thing, and the head-lock thing again.
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And then, when the pic was over, he kinda rubbed/scraped his hand up and down her back once, and ended it was a soft "slap" on her back, before he walked away...which resulted in EVEN MORE hair being ripped out by their 25 year-old roots, and smashing what remained still attached to her head.
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(Um, yeah...while the HAIR may be 25 years-old...the actual PERSON is a wee-tad bit more...Oy-Vey...)
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Ignoring all that, Snow* dialed-up the pics on her camera again...and was relieved to see that at least THIS pic turned out. Even though Rick looked WAY tired, his smile was totally forced, and her hair suffered the consequences.
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Well, fall-out is a bitch...but we do what we have to do.
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Then, he was off like a fabled, fairy-tale prince...leaving "young"-ish Cinderella clasping her bottle-opener to her chest, and gazing adoringly at the miniature screen on her digital camera.
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The rest of the night passed on a total high...with the other guy bartenders making fun of our resident glitter girl...and with her not really giving even one whit about their obvious ignorance of what is REALLY important! LOL...SHE knew better! ;)
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A few days later, when thinking to go look at the radio station's web site, and check out their posted pictures from the event, she was presented with proof-positive that she is a royal dumb-shit, and had thoroughly screwed up that pic, too.
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Upon further inspection of the other pics of the cougars and Rick, Snow* noticed that Rick had his arm(s) draped about the necks of ALL the other women...which led to an "ah-ha" moment for her.
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This was a liability issue.
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When Snow* worked as Wonder Woman at 6-Flags, the performers and characters were all schooled in proper camera-etiquette...
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ALL HANDS MUST BE IN FULL VIEW OF THE CAMERA AT ALL TIMES!
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If one of the hands is hidden behind one of the subjects, then that leaves the situation of the "unknown" wide-open for questionable doubt. The "guest" could accuse the "performer" of accosting them, thus grounds for a nasty, potential lawsuit. It happens...believe me.
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So, that totally explains the arm-around-the-neck scenario with Rick.
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However, it is probably not that akward for gals who are SHORTER than Rick. For us tall chicks, it is a bit odd...for him too, probably...to sling his arm UP and around a gal's neck...not the most natural of gestures.
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Okay...and that concludes Snow*s brush with Greatness/Rick-ness.
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And, it also concludes Snow*s speaking in the 3rd person about her old ass! ;)
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(Oh, BTW...I had to retire my FAVORITE bottle opener! Rick's signature never did totally dry on the rubber-casing...so I did not use it ever again after that moment. It is now safely ensconsed in my curio cabinet. =)
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Yep...and the lameness reigns supreme! ...
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XO! =)
