My Claycert!
2004-03-23 at 1:47 p.m.
I can�t remember where I last left you on my life�s journey, so I�ll pick up on Sunday. Agreed?
M and S were coming to watch the boys for us while we attended the concert. Since we planned to be home late and since they live so far away (they�re staying with her mom in south county until their house is built) we all agreed they should stay the night. Saturday and Sunday, I scoured this entire house, top to bottom, giving it a good cleaning, making sure we had plenty of fresh towels and blankets and locating the air mat-tress.
It took me the better part of an hour to locate the damn air mat-tress, which had been packed for months. I rifled through box after box, tripping over tool boxes, car parts and a 1970 Chevy Longh-orn pick up before I finally found the son-of-a-bitch.
I had everything ready for our guests. They arrived, and we prepared to show them where they would be sleeping....
�Oh, we aren�t staying the night after all� says her highness, S.
When will I ever learn??? They never follow through on any plans they make. EVER! I guess they just assume we have a guest room all made up and ready for impending guests and that it was no big deal to prepare for them.
Oh well. What�s most important was that we were going out alone, without the kids, to a nice dinner and to see the man who occupies my every thought, Clay.
We took the MetroL!nk down to Un!on Station, where we treated ourselves to a nice dinner out, something we could neither afford, nor do without. We went to L@ndry�s. I wish I could have tasted my Coconut Shrimp, salad and seafood stuffed jalapenos. I felt so awful, I could barely hold my head up during dinner.
It was a cold day and we nearly froze to death waiting for the MetroL!nk to arrive. We boarded the train and got off at the next stop - the Savv!s Center. They scanned our tickets at the gate. I put mine in my purse and we went in to find our seats. We were greeted on the floor by an usher who asked to see our tickets. I reached in my purse, grabbed a ticket and the usher lead us to the third row. The third row?? I know for a fact we had 20th row seats!! Uh, okay. I wasn�t about to say anything! The usher couldn�t figure out what the problem was. Our seat numbers didn�t exist! The stage protruded out into the seating (unlike last year's Idols show), where seats 11 and 12 should have been. I examined my ticket further... �August 2003... Pop Tarts presents The Ameri... �
WTF??? Did that ebay bastard sell me last year�s tickets????? Then I remembered. I had saved my ticket to the Idols show from last year. It was still in my purse and I must have grabbed that one instead of the current one! I�m sure the usher thought I was trying to get away with something.
This tells you two things:
A~ How doped up on cold meds I was and ...
B~ How long it�s been since I�ve been purse shopping!
One of the many things I adore about Clay, is the diverse audience he attracts. Looking around the crowd I saw everything from a five year old girl to a couple who absolutely had to be in their 80s. Everyone loves Him.
We found our crappy, good-for-nothing 20th row tickets and sat down. We called to check on the kids, who were doing fine. The house lights went out and the opening band came out. I wasn�t unaware there would be a warm up band. They were called the Beu Sisters. They sounded okay, I guess. Better than some of the shit I�ve heard on American Idol lately.
I was also completely unaware that Clay was the headliner of this show. I guess I just assumed he was the opening act. I kind of looked forward to the possibility of leaving after Clay performed, because I had no desire whatsoever to see Kelly What�s-her-name.
Kelly was announced and I used K�s big, soft shoulder as a pillow while I napped. Kelly needs to learn something: when you use a microphone, you eliminate the need to scream. I commented to K after her performance that the acoustics in the place were awful. Well, they weren�t. It was just her. You wouldn�t think as loud as the music was that anyone could actually nap through it, but I�m proof it can be done. I told K I had never felt worse in my life and that I wasn�t even going to stand up when Clay came out. �You don�t have to worry about me screaming, crying and embarrassing you like I always do. I just feel too awf.. �
Then the house lights went out. I jumped on top of my chair and screamed, �WAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!� Clay came out from the back of the floor section, singing �Kyrie�. Security heavily guarded my Clay as he made his way to the stage.
Fashion eludes the boy. I bet the Goodwill stores are happy people like him keep them in business. But he could have been wearing a feather boa or a burlap bag for all I cared. He sounded amazing! I�m grateful for the big-screens at the sides of the stage, because with our seats, I wasn�t able to capture much on my own. Clay had stubble. God, it was adorable.
He interacted so well with the audience. He took people�s cell phones to talk to friends of concert-goers unable to come to the show. He allowed a girl onstage who lied and said it was her birthday and wanted a birthday hug. He signed programs thrown onto the stage. He�s just so incredible. I told K I should have made a sign saying, �I came here with pneumonia just to see you Clay! Can I have a hug?� He probably would have stayed far away from my sick ass.
He did an acoustic set, featuring �Fields of Gold� by Sting, Leo Sayer�s �When I Need You� (from the year Clay was born!) and �Carolina on My Mind�. It was so beautiful, I cried. And I didn�t care who saw. A good singer is one who can sing, a capella with only a guitar, and hit every note perfectly - one who can reach out, touch your heart and move you to tears with the pureness and emotion of his voice.
I feel honored to have had him sing to me Sunday night.
I just love him so much.
Whatever voice I had remaining, was left in the 20th row of the Savv!s Center, when he clutched that ugly ass shirt of his. I screamed and gave no thought whatsoever to my illness. Kelly came out and ruined performed �Open Arms� with him. Then it was over.
I was so sad to see him leave, knowing I wouldn�t be seeing his show again, like some of you lucky enough to follow him around the country.
On our way out, I used money allotted for my prescriptions, on a program. It was the best medicine of all. I stared at it all the way home. I especially love the red sweater pic.
Now I sit, feeling much better, recalling my wonderful concert. I anxiously await the next CD and hope it features an acoustic version of �Fields of Gold�. I anxiously anticipate the next tour.
And I save my money for the best tickets money can buy.