Hold The Line

The show in West Palm Beach Friday night was great. I was actually in the fifth row in the middle section on the aisle seat so I was extremely pleased with my location. However, I was heartbroken over the fact that they searched my purse on the way in and insisted that there be absolutely no cameras. So I had to chase down the valet who was taking off down the street with my car and stash it under the seat, which also worried me. I got over the whole camera issue thinking that I could just take pictures with my phone which promptly died five seconds after he entered the room. I completely forgot about plugging it into the car charger and it could take no more of my abuse. Fucking phone.

So the minute he got onstage and I really realized that all these years I have spent being the responsible mother who didn't leave her children all the while wanting to go see people's shows and not going, I let the picture thing go. I never really thought I would get close enough to even see the person/band whatever, now I am sitting practically underneath one of those people. I am here. He is there. If I am not careful I could get spit on and that is all that really mattered. Minus the drunk asshole sitting in front of me booing every five minutes for some dumb fucking reason.

Henry was beautiful, funny, straightforward and vulgar in all the right places and made me so thankful that I went.

After the show I debated slipping back into the crowd of several dozens of people waiting around his tour bus behind the building but decided my ass would most likely be in a sling if I spent the required hour or two waiting my turn to not know what the hell to say to him, and my phone was dead and I didn't want Terry to worry, and it was kind of dark back there, and what were my chances really of getting to actually meet him?

Yeah...stupid stupid me.

I got my car and circled the building and parked in the empty lot to check to make sure my camera was still there and all things were ready for lift off. The thought flashed in my head that I could still just park right where I was in the now empty self parking lot, grab the camera from under the seat and simply walk back to the bus and wait. What to do? What to do?

Still, it was late and I felt like a fifteen year old out past curfew. One who would get her ass grilled for walking around in a strange neighborhood with about $3500.00 worth of diamonds and gold on waiting for someone to mug me. So...I went home. Swallowing the lump in my throat all the way. Knowing in the back of my head that I could have met him if I wasn't such a little child.

I came home and lamented the entire next morning and Terry offered up that he expected me to be extremely late and to have waited to meet him and all that jazz. Pissed, I was. No, actually, I was very hurt at the fact that he was laughing at me for being so upset because wasted my opportunity by stopping to actually consider what he might feel about me rolling in at 3a.m. with no call to say I wasn't dead in an alley instead of just saying fuck it and doing what I wanted to. It is such a huge deal, this marriage thing.

So, he felt bad for me. I felt bad for me. I missed my chance. Maybe my only chance to be blushing, shaking like a leaf, shy like a school girl with a huge crush on Henry. Not only that, but I had the exact same opportunity in the same exact spot to meet Ian Anderson, whom I don't have a crush on but would have been the exact same way with, a couple of months ago but made the same stupid decision to be a good little girl and hurry home instead. It would have helped both times had he clarified he didn't give a rat's ass either way and figured I should have taken my chances. How am I to know these things?

Yeah, so I sulked all the way to Orlando for my father in law's 50th birthday party. I was so happy that I had gotten to actually go but just like after leaving the Ian Anderson thing I was a little crushed over having missed my chance to meet them.

The party was fun. Saw lots of people I didn't know dressed in 50's costumes and having a blast. Saw some people I did know but hadn't seen for years. One I hadn't seen since my wedding day, in fact. It was fun.

Meanwhile, Terry had been sneaking around trying to find out what time Henry was going to be at the House of Blues last night, which I didn't know. He suggested I cut out about the time the show ended the night before and run over there to see if I could meet him. He would keep the children. Again. I honestly never thought I would get there and even if I did, I would miss him or not find his tour bus or he wouldn't come out. So, after contemplation, and on his suggestion, I called his cousin Jeremiah and asked him if he could go out to Disney with me and see if we couldn't find Henry. I bummed a ride to Jeremiah's parents' house with them when they left the party and then Jeremiah picked me up at their house before going out to the House of Blues. Terry and the children were just going to go over to their house a little later and I would meet them back there to spend the night.

It would seem that a lot of people know how to locate the tour bus for the performer at the House of Blues because Dave, my husband's friend, was at the party and gave me specific instructions on just where to go and then Jeremiah said he had done the same thing before after a Veruca Salt show. That was also something I could not have accomplished on my own as I was so excited and nervous just walking into Pleasure Island that I thought my head was going to explode let alone find the spot they told me to go. Jeremiah took me right to it.

As we approached I saw a group of people standing around in the dark by an opening in the wood fence and realized that among the voices I heard Henry's was one of them. Then the nervous shivering commenced. I waited for a couple of minutes for him to finished talking to someone else and then approached him and asked politely for an autograph which he gave me, on the backside of an envelope meant to have been mailed out Thursday for the Jethro Tull Ebay item. It was all I had. He examined the front of the envelope that was both addressed and stamped and then kind of looked at me and I quickly mumbled something about that being all the paper I had and that I would deal with it tomorrow and then rattled on about seeing him in West Palm Beach and missing my chance to get a picture with him as he signed my outgoing mail. He thanked me for coming to see him.

Then he was extremely patient while Jeremiah tried to get a good picture and declined my request to have him flip off the camera (per Dave's request, sorry Dave) stating that he was too nice of a guy to do that sort of thing. So there is one picture of me during this time looking up at him talking that isn't so attractive of me. Then he commented that we should make sure we got a good shot since I did come all that way and all. So I checked the ugly talking Gwen picture on the display on the camera and then quickly took my place again back under his right arm.

Incidentally, in case you are living under a rock and don't know he has a beautiful body and I am sure he could feel my hand shaking as I slid my arm around him with my hand on his lower back. The third attempt at a decent picture would have shown Henry tilted toward me with his left arm also around me in the front as he sort of leaned in and did that for one of the shots and I nearly passed out right there.

However, Jeremiah wasn't sure about that whole pre-picture flash where no picture is actually being snapped until you hold the button down for a second or two thing and fate just wasn't going to grant me anything except a split second memory of that moment with both arms kind of around me and the only thing that happened with the camera was the flash went off. So, again I went over to examine the camera realizing that absolutely perfect moment in time was not captured and then repositioned for the final pose which you see here. Had I not been so afraid of pissing him off after being such a good sport about the bazillion photos I would have begged him to put his left arm back around me. I just couldn't find my voice at that point.

So I traded Jeremiah and they positioned themselves making sure they weren't touching for that manly chest puffed out sober faced shot and then I thanked Henry again and we turned around and walked away. He was pretty much gone after that, and I am still buzzing. I am such a "fangirl". So Terry says.

Dear Henry,

Love,

Gwendolyn

Posted by gwendolyn on January 25, 2004 at 05:16 PM