2003-08-22
5:51 p.m.

BEVR: Julie/Dallas

As I begin to write, my glowsticks are still glowing...and so am I! I breathed the same air as Clayton H. Aiken last night...life is good.

Before I launch into my oft-requested BEVR, please allow me to apologize to Clayton and the entire American Idol touring company...I'm very sorry that you had to come to a city as lame as Dallas. I really had high hopes for this show, and y'all came through with flying colors, honestly...but the crowd was effing LAME. I'm sorry that every last one of you (including Clay, at times) practically had to *beg* for enthusiasm. I'm sorry that Dallas made you work so hard for it. You put on a damn fine show and Dallas didn't appear to care. But, as the song says, "Most cities have soul, but Dallas must've been at the bank when they passed it around."

Okay, if any Dallas-ites are reading this and beginning to take offense, allow me to explain. My vantage point for this concert was up in Section 219 (a fitting combo of area codes, I thought!), which is up high enough where I actually had a better view of the audience than I had of the stage (hell, I had a better view of the planets lining up, but I digress...), and during the parts of the show I was less interested in, my sister and I decided to look around the room a bit. What we saw was a bunch of people SITTING STILL, looking like they weren't having a good time at all. In fact, it appeared that the raucous activity onstage was interrupting their very important evening of boredom.

But more on that later.

PRE-SHOW FABULOUSNESS

Earlier that day...there was a poll up on the American Airlines Center website that asked "Who is your favorite 2003 American Idol?" There were only eight choices available (sorry Charles & Julia, but good thing Josh was on there, huh?), and here's how the voting stood as of about 3:00 that afternoon...Clay 3505, K-Lo 203, Trenyce 100, Josh 43, Ruben 33, KimberMe and Rickey tied with 3, and Carmen 2. Yeah, that sounds about right, huh? ;o)

My sister Amy, her two sons, and I got suited up to go. Well, Amy and I did (the boys don't really care, although they appeared to have a good time and weren't too embarrassed by us)...decked out in our official LBFCA shirts, red shoes, and me with my old trusty cowboy hat festooned with the LBFCA logo. We had our glowsticks and signs and a Special Present (more on that later), and we were PUMPED. Lots of Clay fans were on the train to the American Airlines Center with us, and we chatted with some.

(a poor fellow who was waiting for a later train asked Amy, after reading her shirt, "I'm almost afraid to ask, but who's Clay Aiken?" To which she replied "Oh, you've GOT to be kidding me!!" which caused several Clay fans to turn around and smile...teehee)

You know what was odd, though? I wasn't famous. Now, honestly, I wasn't expecting for people to be running up to me, wanting my autograph or something, but I was REPRESENTIN' the coolest ding-dang website of them all! Aren't the Broads famous? Apparently not in Dallas. But, like I said, Dallas is LAME.

As we arrive at the AAC, it's apparent that the place is crawling with Clayfans. Red shirt mania. Homemade Clay shirts everywhere. Made us so very happy. "Aiken 4 Prez"...cute. "Texas Clay Teachers Association"...way cool. "Future Mrs. Aiken"...take a number, honey.

But as we got inside (after I held up the line because my little metal mint box I keep in my pocket set off the metal detector...oops!), it was obvious that this wasn't just a ClayFest. There were a surprising number of signs/shirts for Josh (didn't they get the memo?), and quite a few chicks there digging Ruben big time. (Good for him!) Even one little girl with a sign that said "Kimberly Caldwell's Biggest Fan." (Where's your MOTHER??)

Meanwhile, I'm hanging out in the buying-stuff line, staring wistfully at the Clay poster, which I can't imagine anyone buying, even as wonderful as it is. I was picking up two programs, or a least I was trying to, but when one isn't a 15-year-old in a halfshirt showing off her nonexistent figure, one doesn't get prompt service in these circumstances.

While I'm on the subject of the program, let me say this about it...apparently, despite all the evidence to the contrary, only four pictures of Clay Aiken exist. No, it's true...there are multiple versions of those pictures, some in color, some in black and white (or blue and white, as the case may be), but the same pictures over and over. Luckily, they're damn cute pictures, and all of a not-yet airbrushed Natural Clay, freckles and all! (Did y'all know he has freckles on his forehead if you look closely enough? Good thing I'm willing to take my time when I play connect the dots...gee, do you think he has them everywh...nevermind.)

And I know the Broads will enjoy this...that program is RIDDLED WITH TYPOS. It's one thing to try to be "hip" by using creative spelling when a young lad like Charles is talking (and since when does he go by "Charlie"?), but to make blatant mistakes that can't be caught with a spellchecker program...ugh.

I also should confess here that I did something with the program the following morning, the likes of which I haven't done since I was at least 13...I kissed his picture. More than once. Couldn't help myself. Natural Clay does that to me.

WHASSUP DALLAS?

"Same thing that was up five minutes ago when Charles asked us." -- me

Assorted comments:

-- Apparently there were "three" people from Texas in the show last night, according to Julia. Rickey Smith and two of the dancers. It wasn't mentioned until a bit later that, oh yeah, Kimberly Caldwell is from here, too. Just the beginning of a bunch of stuff that actually caused me to feel kinda bad for her. (and when Julie is feeling the need to defend the feelings of KimberME, something is very wrong!)

-- Two seriously bad fashion choices: KimberME's raggedy camo capris and Ruben's BDU cap. Here's the thing...we know you're not wearing olive drab camouflage because you think it's attractive, so you must be wearing it in some sort of statement to "support the troops" or something. Well, you know what? Don't. It's insulting. Everyone I've ever known in or connected to the military finds that sort of thing to be obnoxious and wrong. You have to earn the right to wear those ugly clothes. This isn't like wearing a football jersey like your favorite player. Just stop it.

-- Tons of red glowsticks out there all over the crowd...and one green one. Ruben fan? ;o)

-- LMAO when Ruben & Clay were out there fooling around before TGIM and Ruben lets out a rousing "The stars at night are big and bright..." which was immediately, as if by reflex, met with "[clap clap clap clap] Deep in the heart of Texas!" Much giggling onstage, very cute and charming. What I don't know is if native Texans have always had this reflex, or if they started doing it when *I* did...after seeing "Pee-Wee's Big Adventure"!

-- Kimberly Locke is one of the most gorgeous women I've ever laid eyes on. She is beautiful and radiant and sexy as hell. And just when I think I can maybe hear her voice without getting chills, here come the goosebumps. She's an absolute treasure!

-- Feeling Bad That It Felt So Good Dept.: "Let's Hear It For The Boy" music starts, and everybody (well, everybody who isn't comatose) is already up and rockin' out. The Woo-people (of which I am a card-carrying member) are in full force...and then the screen thingy opens up and out steps Carmen. There was a noticeable change in the sound in the auditorium...it literally went like this: "WOOOOO...oh." Turned out that performance wasn't all that bad (quite cute, actually...nearly 100% goat-free!), but I'll admit that I laughed when she stepped out.

-- MAD PROPS to Randy Jackson and his killer ability to put together a band! I was expecting some decent, but not particularly interesting musicians who would be so nondescript as to give the impression that they were faking it to prerecorded tracks. Boy howdy, was I wrong! These guys were wicked awesome (and can I say I'm shocked that I haven't seen a huge internet buzz about the hotness of the lead guitarist?), and it's obvious the cats in the company dug working with them. (sorry 'bout that, Clay...just hep jazz talk)

DA ROOF...DA ROOF...DA ROOF IS (not) ON FIRE!

As many of you may have heard by now, the Dallas concert was plagued by something heretofore not experienced at any other show this year. (No, not a crazy Broad in a cowboy hat rushing the stage before being wrestled to the floor by security, when suddenly, the lanky performer onstage, looking fetching in white, demands she be taken at once to his dressing room where later they....oh, I'm sorry, got carried away!)

During the number in which KimberME (yes, her again) takes the stage straddling a motorcycle, which I heard later was some song from Charlie's Angels, and may or may not have had other AI people in the number (everyone else was wearing helmets last I saw them), an usher came in and informed us that the building was being evacuated. Of course, I didn't care if the building was on fire, or about to explode, or whatever...all I knew is CLAY HADN'T SUNG "INVISIBLE" YET and I was very upset that the show might be stopped for the night without me seeing My Secret Boyfriend again!

Never heard what actually happened (as of this writing, no news stories concerning a possible fire or bomb threat or whatever at the AAC, so we may never know), but what I do know is this:

[a] The people in the floor seats were not evacuated.

[b] The lights did come on somewhat after the number was over, but that may be been just because the song was done and that's what they always do.

[c] We had only made it outside and I had just frantically called Sandi before we were being told to go back inside.

[d] My nephew Joey made this brilliant observation: "When Kimberly was done with her song, she could look up and see that everybody left! That's not good."

SUPERSTAR BARBIE HAS A BAD NIGHT

Y'all know me well enough to know that, for the most part, I couldn't give a flying squirrel about Kimberly Caldwell. But when someone is doing her first show in her home state, being the ONLY AI contestant to come out of the Austin auditions (represent!!), and nobody *else* gives a crap? Now, that's just sad.

When she finished her first number, and they brought the lights up, she told us her family was in the audience (and at that moment some people down on the floor kinda clapped over their heads, and she said "Hi y'all" or something to them). I turned to Amy and said "Those jerks weren't clapping or cheering or ANYTHING while she was singing!" Her own dizzamn family!!

Rickey was getting more love as a "Texan" than she was, and he's from Okla-fricking-homa! (he just goes to school in Keene, which is sorta in the Dallas area) It wasn't right. I found myself cheering my fool head off for her after a while, just because I didn't want her feeling like nobody cared. Suddenly, *I* cared about her. And, somewhere, an angel got his wings.

A MOMENT CAN VANISH SO FAST

Oh, and that skinny Clay kid was there, too.

You know, I'd heard of the phenomenon known as the Full Body Scream, and I'd yet to experience it...until Tuesday night! It starts with a tingling in the extremities (and other areas), works its way up, until your whole body is shaking, and then this ungodly racket bursts forth from your lungs...thank the gods it was nice and dark where I was sitting, because it couldn't have been pretty.

One thing that was way cool about being up in the "Platinum Level" (named to give the impression that we were somehow special, as opposed to calling them "Cheap Bastard Seats") was that we could see down the hole in the stage where the platform rises up. So Kim Locke is introducing Clay, and even with all the smoke, we can see him down there, crouching down, like he's about to jump up and yell "Surprise!" Of course, I would have found this cute and funny if I wasn't so busy freaking the eff out.

I was crying before the platform even started moving, shaking so hard I doubt I got even one decent picture (Amy punching me in the arm, going "It's CLAY!! It's CLAY!!!" wasn't helping either), nearly hyperventilating. This was literally The Night. He was stunning...he was classy...he was mesmerizing...he was...so far away!!!

Wait...get the binoculars, that will help. Nope, hands shaking too hard, eyes filling with tears, binos won't help. Camera? Same problem. Jumbotron screen right by us? Worked for a while, but felt like watching it on TV (and usually just showed the back of his head), so I had to go back to staring at the gorgeous and extremely gifted *speck* on the stage.

And what a speck. Best speck I've ever strained to see.

We interrupt this BEVR for this important Public Service Announcement:

Broads, if your tickets for an American Idol concert aren't for really close seats, and your camera isn't equipped with a superduper zoom lens, don't even think about taking pictures. Take your camera if you want to, in case you see something you must have a picture of, but don't bother during the show. You will waste precious time and energy worrying about getting good pictures when they aren't going to turn out anyway. This is CLAY TIME, and there is no rewind button, so don't fritter it away. A moment can vanish so fast...so savor it. You can find other people's pictures later on the web. Like this:

Seriously. I didn't get to see stuff like that because I was too intent on taking my own crappy pictures. Don't make the same mistake.

JULIE WUVS CLAYTON

I know, y'all already knew that...I just wanted to see it all big and bold! ;o)

Assorted "Awwww!" and "Rowr!" moments, in no particular order:

-- He was so hoarse when he introduced Ruben! After having a day off, why would that be? Someone needs to look after him, because I can't have My Lil Crooky Mouth being less than 100% healthy. (I'd ask for volunteers, but I'd have to bring the smackdown on anyone who'd cut in front of me in line!)

-- Clay told us that he'd been in Dallas all day, asking people "Who shot JR?" and nobody would tell him. Fortunately, the place was full of people old enough to know the answer to that one. (and that would be "Kristin")

-- I'm a big fan of that black shirt and jeans combo. A *big* fan. And Clayton was most certainly having a Good Butt Day!

-- Lotsa jumping around, in just about every number. He was loaded with energy and was really putting it out there...I know *I* could feel it, don't know about the mannequins who were taking up valuable floor seats.

-- When it came time to introduce the band, I enjoyed the heck out of watching Clay boogie down with his bad self. And this boy says he can't dance! It started a whole new fantasy for me...dancing with Clayton. Used to just think of slow-dancing with him, but now I wanna shake his groove thing...um, I mean shake *my* groove thing while he's...wait...I wanna...oh, you know what I wanna do! ;o) (Something odd...there were no jokes all night about Clay's dancing! Of course, there shouldn't have been, because he was fabulous, but from what I've heard, picking on his dancing is part of the show!)

-- Post-evacuation (which Clay was pretty much the only one to mention, since it seems he's one of the only tour members who can improvise and say things other than "he/she's my best friend on the tour", "Let me hear you Dallas", etc), when he came out to do "Invisible", he said "We finally got you back in your seats...we're not letting you leave now." Like anyone would have left once Mister Hot-n-Humble walked out there in that Stars jersey. Oh my.

And speaking of the Stars jersey, let me share with you one of the best pictures I found out there on the web:

(I call this one "Clay Looking at Julie", even though he's SO not...but where he's looking is pretty much where I was sitting. Let's just pretend that this was the moment he realized he was in love with me, but he just couldn't bring himself to say it. Yeah, that'll work.)

SIGNS OF LOVE

And if Clay were really looking at me at that moment, he would have seen me holding up my Very Best Sign. A sign I was SO prepared to get compliments on. A sign I was sure would get on the Jumbotron. But, alas, it was not meant to be.

A few days before the show, I had gotten a word stuck in my head, and desperately wanted to put it on a sign. Called Amy to discuss this, and she came up with the second word, which caused this sign idea to go from silly to effing genius. This sign said:

GIDDYUP BUTTERCUP!!

Seriously, I thought it could easily be seen from the stage, because it was so HUGE, and even though it was prominent in my sign rotation (pre-planned before I'd even left Austin, because I'm just that weird), I don't think anyone on stage (or anywhere else in the arena) saw it. No reaction whatsoever. Oh well.

We had another good sign we held up quite a bit, but, same ol' same ol'. No love from the stage.

Two other signs, which we didn't hold up for all that long because there wasn't much point, were LBFCA (heart) CLAY and LBFCA JULIE. I'd made that last sign especially for "The Girl is Mine", because I wanted to make sure Clay knew where I was sitting. Why, you ask?

THE BOXER REBELLION

Allow me to back up for a bit. Amy has a friend named Marcy who didn't know she was going to the concert until her fabulous husband David surprised her with 7th row tickets as an early birthday present. I had already decided that I would have to bring Clayton a lil sumpin sumpin, but I knew I would have difficulty getting it to him...until we realized that Marcy and David could handle the task! And David used to pitch for the Texas Rangers, so we were sooooo gonna get my present onstage!

One problem...they were a bit apprehensive about it. The arena staff had specifically said (as I'm sure they say at other shows) "Do not throw anything onto the stage. Nothing is to be thrown onto the stage." Blah blah blah. Don't they understand that CLAY AIKEN is there? Don't they realize what that means?

Now it's time for "The Girl is Mine", and we are freaking out. Stuff is flying onto the stage left and right. Ruben does his "Deep in the heart of Texas" bit. Clay is running around like a maid, picking up goodies and trying to hand them to Ruben, who keeps talking and ignoring him, so Clay drapes stuff over Ruben's shoulders and runs off to get more stuff. The stage isn't all that well lit, so we can pretty much only see what's near Clay at the time, because the spotlight is following him around.

Someone threw a yo-yo up there, and Clay wowed us with his mad skillz. Someone tossed up a straw cowboy hat. It's exactly like mine, except mine is like 25 years old and beat up. Ruben puts it on, then Clay decides to risk messing up his hair (HA!) and puts it on, too, much to the delight of the locals. And here's a great picture I found:

Giddyup Buttercup, indeed.

Amy grabs my arm..."Is that it? I see a purple ribbon...is that it? Did they throw it??" We have to wait for Clay to move upstage and to his right a bit more...and THERE IT IS!! My present! All carefully folded up and tied with a lovely purple ribbon. Marcy and David RULE!! Clay makes a beeline for it and picks it up with his own two hands....ah, those long, beautiful fingers have touched something I touched with my own long, beautiful fingers...*sigh* (What?? My fingers are very nice! Don't you judge me! Nyah!!)

What was this present? Boxers with our logo on the butt!

And he can't get a prezzie from me without a personal note, filled with smileyfaces and naughtiness...written on a piece of fabric and safety-pinned to the waistband of the undies:

My Dearest Darling Clayton...

These britches come to you courtesy of the LECHEROUS BROADS, namely JULIE (and her sister Amy, a lurker Broad), who is sitting too far away to have thrown them herself. They will go nicely with the shirt Wendy in FL gave you in Orlando! (you know, the "tramp"?)

Stop in and say hi sometime in the purple pages! (aka the "guestbook")

You know the Broads will always treat you right!

Love ya sweetie!

Julie

(you know where to find me)

Then My Beloved hands the lot off to the stage manager (whom he introduces to the audience, and we all cheer...well, except Amy and I, who are still squealing like stuck pigs), and they begin their TGIM bit. Which reminds me...

THE DOGGONE GIRL IS A HO

Somebody explain this to me...Clay and Ruben are arguing over a fictional girl who is two timing both of them (I've always had difficulty with the subject matter of this song, even though I've always loved it!), and occasionally Clay is trying to get us to cheer to support his side of the argument. Okay, that's great, sweetie, you know I'll support you in anything you want, but...um...I can't cheer about the fact that you're dating some other woman. Sorry, but the girl is a ho, and you need to drop her like a bad habit. You need a woman who can be totally faithful to you, darlin'...and I think I know just the woman! (Shh! Shut up, you guys! Stop telling him I'm married...dammit, my ring won't come off...)

YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOREVER FOR THIS...THIS IS THE END

All in all, it was a fantastic night. I hope the energy I tried to bring to the room made up for at least some of the INERTIA that was rampant at that show...perhaps, in the end, it was a good thing, because it meant that *my* screams, *my* cheers, *my* enthusiasm were felt more personally and directly by My Lil Honeydripper and his friends. Perhaps my perception that my signs were not seen was incorrect, and they had a good laugh about GIDDYUP BUTTERCUP later...or maybe I really did see Clay look over at Ruben at one point (sometime during the White Leather Era when they were standing behind the ones who were singing) and do a little horsey-ridin' move with his hands held like he was gripping reins and a teensy little gallop-in-place. (It's possible...he certainly did *something* like that, and my natural reaction is to think it *wasn't* about me.)

One thing I came away with, as other Broads have noted, but perhaps it's more apparent when you're up in the nosebleed section...Clayton BRINGS IT. His considerable gifts radiate through the room like beams of light, and touch every person present, no matter how far away they are. I may not have been close enough to look into his eyes, but I was able to look into his *soul*...which ain't half bad.

And this amazing, otherworldly presence also touches deeply via phone...I called Sandi several times throughout the evening (during TITN and Invisible, plus the times he was talking around those songs), and she told me she could hear him clear as a bell (another good thing about the oil painting of an audience), that he sounded beautiful, and that he made her cry, all the way up there in Maine.

Amy and I stayed up until 2am, talking about Clay, how incredible he is, how we had just been in a room with him for the first time, and how maybe right at that moment he was unwrapping his package (hey, that's not what I meant!)...and when I curled up on her couch to go to sleep, I had the sweetest ClayDreams all night, but none could compare to the *real* ClayDream that had happened only a few hours before. Thanks, darlin'...if I can ever return the favor, you just let me know. And remember...you know where to find me. ;o)

-- Julie

-Note from Nelle: You, too, can participate in the LBFCA Summer Series, and have your Broad's Eye View Report, or, for any other Brude's out there, your Summary of Clay, about Clay's Summer Concert Tour on the LBFCA Main Page. Just send it to Nelle via email, and she'll post it ASAP. (If you are a lurker, or otherwise wish to remain anonymous, just let me know that in your email). Don't worry about your BEVR not being the same size or looking the same as anyone elses. Here at LBFCA we celebrate diversity. Every BEVR is unique. This is your personal experience of witnessing what Katynka so gloriously described as "a little hockey-jersey-clutchin,' white-leather-wearin,' DTTR revealin,' mic-flickin,' thigh-strokin,' eye-f***ing, smokin,' jokin,' singin,' hunk-o-burnin' libido."