Lecherous Broads For Clay Aiken!
Lecherous Broads for Clay Aiken!


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2003-10-19
6:59 p.m.

MOAM Week - BEVR: Louise/The Tonight Show

From the American Idol finale night, I waited one hundred and two days to get myself to The Pond in Anaheim. Clay was there. I know he was. He
had to have been. He's why I went. I sort of remember seeing him only a few feet away from me. I know I am getting older, but if my memory serves me at all he was on the stage where he was supposed to be and I was in the audience next to Mr. Louise (previously known as Mr. MtL in concert BEVR), where I was supposed to be. Three hours flew by, and then we drove home. I remember in the afterglow of the days that followed, I didn't want to waste my silly grin on just hubby. So, we invited various groups of friends over for dinner for multiple select nights in order to impress them with my euphoric self. That is, until I hit a wall.

Was that all there was? Great night that became a foggy memory faster than the speed of light? What was up with THAT? It's not like I wasn't paying attention. I began feeling noticeably melancholy. I didn't like it at all, especially on the heels of my joyous Summer of Clay. I didn't know how I was going to do it but I had to tell Mr. Louise. Didn't want him to think it was him, but more than that, I didn't want to find myself locked up somewhere overhearing people in the room saying things like, "She used to be so normal." OR "Isn't it a shame what has happened to her." OR "Life is so fragile, though I never would have guessed...." Fessing up became necessary. It was a matter of self-preservation.

So, over kitchen clean-up late one night-

me-"It was a blur, I tell you. An absolute blur."

hubby-"Our dinner party? You've always loved our friends, but now you find an evening with them a blur?"

me-"I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a blur. And you know how I feel about lying! No one's ever gonna be able to call me a lying-sack-of-crap if I have anything to say about it!"

hubby-"Well, okay then. No more dinner parties for you!"

I am pouring my heart out to this man and he wants to punish me? Like keeping me away from our friends is a good idea? The whole being locked up possibility was becoming my favorite option. At least they'd come visit me.

He continued---

hubby-"Sweetie. If tonight wasn't the blur you're referring to, then what is?"

me-"That Pond place you took me to in Anaheim about a week ago."

hubby-softly and deliberately. "How exactly was The Pond a blur?"

me-"No, not The Pond. Clay. Clay was a blur. He wasn't on the stage long enough. I tried to concentrate real hard so I could remember him, but it's all fading into a blur. It's making me a little sad. That's all it is. I'm fine. I'll be just fine. I promise, I'm fine."

hubby-"Do you at least remember the broker prices I paid for our floor seats?"

me-"Yes. Of course I do, Silly. Since I pay the bills, it's the only check I've written recently with a smile on my face. Let me put it this way. It was an up-close and glorious blur of a night I can barely remember."

I am nothing if not sensitive and compassionate. It was time to shift the attention and concern away from myself. After all, I didn't want to hurt his feelings.

I went on, "I MUST see him again. Do you think I'll ever see him again? I'm talkin' IN PERSON."

Was I being clear enough? I didn't want to be the cause of any breakdowns in communication. Not when it comes to the truly important stuff.

hubby-"That's why people like Clay have careers. When that happens, you get to see them again."

I've said it before and I'll say it again, sometimes when someone wants to be a jerk, you just have to let him. He thinks he's so smart. He thinks he's sooooo logical, and he knows I hate logical. He thinks he's such a voice of reason, too. Calm. Cool. Whatever. Well, it isn't funny. Not to me, it isn't. I think it is long overdue that he learn to exercise a little patience and understanding. Someone has indeed coined the phrase, "Growing old isn't for sissies." In my most honest moments it is beginning to sink in that neither is living with a menopausal woman. For now, however, that's HIS problem cuz I'm just fine.

This roller coaster thing I've been on has brought me from a place of Happy Dysfunction to something more akin to what could be easily termed Bipolar Dysfunction. It happened in one gigantic leap. Like getting slapped up the side of the head without seeing it coming. No defense whatsoever. It didn't help that Elle was on the news stands about now. Mourning the deaths of so many friends at one time was more than I could handle. I was like Mary Tyler Moore on the "Chuckles the Clown" episode . Over and over again. I may have been on life-support for any number of reasons, but hey, THEY were dead!

About this time I quit (all because of the Elle fallout - not really, but it sounds good don't ya think?). Not certain where nor how to brush up on Internet etiquette, I sent a resignation email to Nelle to inform her of my intentions of leaving. I'm not really sure why, but I must have thought that letting her know was the polite thing to do. Like I couldn't leave unless I got permission. In the process, I asked her if there was an award for the shortest time as a poster. I took her silence as a 'no.' I only lasted a couple of days away before I sent off another email to inform Nelle that I was a helpless and hopeless lurker. I was hooked, with no place else to go to keep up on all the happenings with Clay. The most amazing part was that I, too, had wondered about reflections in building windows while passing by. I am SO relieved to know it's only Sandi. Now I won't be as frightened the next time. If I had quit, how would I have ever known? Additionally, less time at the computer meant I would be putting myself in danger of re-gaining those unwanted pounds. I had my health to think about.

Feeling my oats once again, under the category of IF I DON'T DO IT MYSELF, IT WON'T GET DONE, I remembered that Clay had yet to be on The Tonight Show. With a CD about to be released, I figured he just might be on October 13. Hey! I'm in Los Angeles forcryingoutloud. What was I waiting for? I quickly called an inside contact I had and learned my assumption was correct. A short time later I saw on the Internet that it was being announced. I was merely a half step ahead, but ahead nonetheless. All I knew was that I had four reserved seats (with instructions to call a week in advance to re-confirm). Yes! Happy Dysfunction was alive and well once again!

The purple pages were filled with talk of The Champagne Room. Well, I'm sorry, but all I could think of was The Lawrence Welk Show. There was mention of dancing and of poles. I tried to recall poles from TLWS, but could only recall bubbles. It was very confusing. Since I don't dance (raise your hand if you're surprised), I was too shy to sign up even though Nelle invited me to join in. Don't think I didn't do my part for Clay, though. I was a voting fool. At the risk of getting offensively spiritual, I voted religiously for him every day (all day, in some cases). I am excruciatingly proud of the fact I have finally learned to live each day to the fullest.

As 'Invisible' was consistently at #1 in L.A., I telephoned my son-

me-"Honey, do me a favor. Turn on your radio to KIIS-FM. I don't have time to listen, so will you listen for me? Call me later to let me know who is at the top tonight."

Like I've ever cared before. Just wanted to goose him a little bit. If that right ever gets taken away from me, I will feel like I'm no earthly good to him.

son-after a most uncomfortable long pause, "I hope this isn't about Clay."

I. HOPE. THIS. ISN'T. ABOUT. CLAY...??? Had I heard him correctly? Since I knew that I had, I didn't ask him to repeat himself. I assure you I don't hear voices, but if I did, I would have heard one say, "He isn't worthy." I assure you I don't engage in conversation with unseen entities, but if I did, I would have asked, "Not worthy of what?" I assure you that since I don't do this sort of thing there would have been no point in waiting for a reply, but if I did, the answer would have been, "A Tonight Show ticket."

I must digress a bit here. When I was in the beginning stages of withdrawl from American Idol, I put my non-savvy computer self on the Internet to see if I could find someone who would help me get all of Clay's competition performances back again. Since I'm not the only one who lives here, I had thoughtfully deleted everything. So you know, I'm not thinkin' that way any more. "TRL," "Miss America," "Let's Just Play" and "SpongeBob Squarepants" remains on the current play list. Mr. Louise can get his own TIVO if he doesn't have any better ideas. NO ONE came to my rescue from other sites. Then I clicked into LBFCA and saw a post that someone named Nelle (before I knew she was NELLE) had DVD's that I was coveting. I immediately emailed her with my request. She immediately got back to me. Shortly thereafter I found Tony's masterful DVD's waiting for me in my mailbox. All that to say, I didn't have to think long and hard about who was worthy!

I jotted off an email to Nelle with an invitation to The Tonight Show. She responded by saying that her son questioned the reasonableness of such a trip. In a rant that would have made Julia Sugarbaker proud, I wasted no time in getting back to her. "Remind your son that reasonableness has nothing to do with it. It's not, and never will be reasonable. What is he thinking?...Broads flying all over the place to take in more than one concert with people they've never met before wasn't reasonable, either. Broads flying ALL BY THEMSELVES to take in another show ALL BY THEMSELVES-well, how reasonable was that? Some admitted to their fear of flying, and still did it. How reasonable was the group that got together to go to the Miss America Pageant?-traveled miles and miles by air and/or car to sit in nose bleed seats so this little group of strangers/Internet buddies could hear a tiny dot on the stage sing only one song. Reasonable? Not one bit. It has nothing to do with it. Case closed." Now that we were on the same page, next up on the agenda was confirming a week in advance.

In the meantime--- POW! POW! POW!

Time. People. Primetime Live

Sparkling and clear-eyed.

Thoughtful and oh so sound-minded.

The manifestation of gracious grit!

I want to be just like him when I grow up.

October 6 arrived and I wasn't having any luck reaching my contact. I let Nelle know that things weren't maybe looking so good. That same day I received a form letter from my doctor informing me that a skin biopsy came back as cancerous ( A form letter!-note to self---get a new doctor when I have time for this). I tossed it aside because I had to prioritize. First things first. Was I going to TTS with Nelle or not? Slipping slowly back into Bipolar Dysfunction, I met both my kids for lunch the next day. It would have been more pleasant if I could have stopped my whining. I took comfort in knowing they would understand it wasn't my fault. Sweethearts that they are, they asked if anything was wrong. I must have left my poker face at home. I managed to snivel these words: "I don't think I'm going to The Tonight Show after all AND I have cancer. Other than that, everything's great." With a smirk that only she can get, my daughter said, "You are so like Job, Mom." My son just asked me to pass the catsup. He ignores me because he thinks I'm so far gone that Nelle is my imaginary friend. I keep explaining to him that she is my one and only Internet friend, and that there's a difference if he would be so kind as to think it through. So much for sympathy. And after all the ouchies I've kissed!

When I returned home there was a message waiting for me that my tickets will indeed be there as promised. It was all systems go (I have lost track over the years of how often I unnecessarily panic. Bottom line-it's been easier not to over-analyze that character trait and just accept it as one of my special gifts that my loved ones will surely miss about me when I am gone.). I let Nelle know. We giggled. She booked her flight.

Monday, October 13 could not have enjoyed better weather. Mid-80's and beautiful. As I drove on the 405 over from by The Getty and into the Valley toward the Burbank Airport, it was clear as can be. I could see one distant airplane in the sky with distinctive Southwest Airline colors. I knew that Nelle was on board and that our timing was perfect. She had only been out on the curb for a few minutes when I approached and signaled for her to hop in. We hugged. We giggled. We hugged some more.

Next, in keeping with the plan, we drove to a favorite restaurant to meet up with Mr. Louise for lunch. He wasn't joining us at TTS, so this was his opportunity to meet Nelle. If you hear from anywhere that I took the wrong off-ramp and drove us around in the wrong mall parking lot and had to stop at a gas station for directions before arriving at the restaurant, it would be a gross exaggeration. Take it with a grain of salt. Especially the part where I have GPS I don't know how to use. Just because my car is smarter than I am doesn't mean I am a bad person.

At the restaurant we could catch our breath and do some visiting. I was able to see photos of Nelle's beautiful children and learn about the loving and selfless way she spends her days in service to others. She is every bit the thoughtful, smart and serious hoot I suspected. (And Mr. Louise Sweetie, thank you so much for lunch. Don't remember much about your being there cuz I was a little distracted. I am sure you understand since I have been the Queen of Distraction lately. Okay, maybe it has been months. How long is "It's all that Clay Aiken's fault" gonna work for me? I need to have an idea as to when my time is up so I can pace myself).

We made it to Studio 3 in timely fashion. My daughter and son-in-law met us there. We grabbed our four tickets, then waited among about 50 people who would be escorted early into the studio. Nelle began referring to my contact as Goddess Contact. She was clearly worthy of said status. We knew that because of her, everything was going so smoothly. That is, until we had to go through Security. Nelle brought an extra bag that had some magazines and such inside. The sort of things Clay could sign if there was even a remote possibility. Security said 'no' and had her place that bag among a few others that had already been confiscated. She didn't argue, was co-operating fully when I noticed that he was now back tending to those behind us in line. I grabbed a couple of Nelle's magazines, said to myself, "Hey, he didn't say they couldn't be in MY bag!"--- and began trying to make the switch. My daughter and her husband watched in total shock and amazement because I am such a rule follower, and taught her to be one as well. Always respect those in authority. Wouldn't you know that NBC would hire a security guy with eyes in the back of his head. Like I wasn't already feeling sixteen again. Got busted. And did I mention that I woke up that day with a couple of zits? What was that all about? Off we went to our seats with our shirts a little more pitted out. And a little less dignity. Too distracted to care. With time yet still to kill, Nelle and I slipped away into the ladies' room. We were the only two in there. I said, "Nelle, I'm feelin' a little like Ethel to your Lucy." She said, "Oh really, I was thinking more like Laverne and Shirley." Practically in unison we said, "How 'bout Thelma and Louise?"

The studio venue holds only 350 seats, and actually feels smaller. There was no such thing as a bad seat, though we were on the farthest side away from where Clay's performance would be. We were just above TTS band. The desk and chairs are located in the middle between their own band and the guest band. Taping starts at 4:30 PM, so Jay came out about ten after to talk to the audience. He explained some of the taping format before inviting a few groups of people down close to come up front to have a picture with him. He would share a few laughs with each group before they'd be seated again. Well, one little group was made up of three girlfriends. While talking with them, he learned that one of the gals had just found out she was pregnant. Without missing a beat, Jay said, "Did that happen the last time you went to see Clay?" The crowd roared.

It was interesting, and fun, to sit and observe so much professionalism. Taping started exactly on time. TTS intro music started up and out came Mr. Leno to do his opening monologue. When each segment was done, the commercials would silently run on the monitors we could see while the audience was entertained by the band and a terrific female singer. She sang up-beat songs and kept the audience clapping, loose, and up for the next time the cameras were rolling. It may not touch anyone other than me here, but during the third or forth commercial break it was a song that I actually knew. I'll be doggonned if she wasn't singing and having everyone clapping along to 'My God is An Awesome God' for the whole duration of the commercial. I wondered to myself how exactly she was able to pull that off. And how often does she try? Regardless of the answers, I was blessed.

Everyone has seen the show by now, but I must say that as it was unfolding for us live, we obviously expected the monologue and the newspaper headlines. We were enjoying Wanda with Jay, too. But, when they came back to her again after a break to have another round with her, in silence Nelle and I looked at our watches, looked at each other, then looked at our watches again before returning our eyes front and center. There was only about fifteen minutes left when we were listening to the band through another commercial. We locked eyes again CERTAIN the whole reason we were there was about to happen next. I can only imagine what my face looked like when they announced a bird caller was going to join Jay for the next segment because I know what Nelle's looked like. I am assuming mine was as appropriate as hers. Irrefutable bewilderment! And total surrender. We were at their mercy.

There was another commercial before Clay was finally introduced. The excitement in the crowd could literally be felt. The studio lights dimmed. The metal curtain was pulled quickly upward. Everyone was in their places. The lighting was perfect. Then we heard The Voice. Would it be too overly dramatic to say it would have taken your breath away? Especially if you caught him from the very, very beginning AI days? Well, it did mine! To see this young man now branching out with his own musicians and back-up singers was simply The Best. I could have glanced over to the large screen to see Clay better, but I could do that at home when I watched again later. I was there to watch Full Length In Person Clay do his thing. I didn't know how he was going to move to 'Invisible' behind an upright mic stand, but OH MY GOODNESS. We were admonished before the taping began to please be quiet when Clay sang so he could be heard. I can tell you that everyone tried to honor that request, but there were still a few audible gasps throughout the studio. He looked and sounded fabulous.

But, that's not all. Whoever is taking him shopping for clothes is a keeper. Someone has decided that his tall, lean body needs to be draped in clothing that actually fits him. And that jacket. I am no expert, but if I had to guess, it was made of the finest Italian fabric money can buy. It was a dark taupe with a slight sheen to it. It was a thrill to witness this whole new level of maturity within the boundaries of who he is at this time in his life. The moment his song was over, Clay walked over to sit down next to Jay. After having watched him look how he looks when he sings, and move like he moves when he sings, then watch him walk left foot at 10:00 and right foot at 2:00 over to the guest chair---well, that just slays me. He is a contradiction on so many levels.

You all have seen for yourselves how at ease Clay was while talking with Jay. Do we take it for granted now? Or are we still amazed that a year ago he was finishing up his special education degree - only to be abruptly interrupted in order to be thrown to the wolves in the music industry? Whatever, that was then and this is now. So, on this particular night a member of the audience was singled out by Clay. Her name was Sherry. You all saw him blow her a kiss, but what you didn't see is that she was the first to blow a kiss to him. When Clay reciprocated, her dad seated next to her completed the transaction. Now, I am not a betting woman, but-call me crazy---I am willing to bet my husband and children, future grandchildren, dogs, car, house, all my Clay TIVO'd stuff, you name it, that it lost something in the translation. But that's just me.

The hour of taping flew by, so the crowd loved it when it was announced that Clay had to re-do his song due to some technical difficulty. He had his earpiece hanging down the middle of his back during his interview, so as he walked away from us toward his band he kept leaning way over---up and down, up and down---to try to get the dangling wiring that he couldn't reach behind him to flip back over his shoulder so he could put it into his ear. That might seem like a detail that could have been left out, but I just happened to enjoy watching him do that. Now that I think about it, I am beginning to feel a little puffed-up pleasure in knowing that I have put that visual into your imaginations and that it is in my actual memory. Please, God, don't let it become a blur! It was too cute to become a blur! I didn't notice where Jay was standing, or sitting, when Clay performed the first time. But the second time he was over to the side watching him from up close and moving to the beat of the music.

As the audience filed out of the studio, we were waved the opposite direction by Goddess Contact. She escorted us out the Artist's Entrance and into their private parking lot where we stood with no more than a sprinkling of fans. I counted eighteen, including ourselves. There was a huge limo waiting. Surely it was Clay's. These shows give their guests the star treatment, so I had to laugh when I saw the bird caller come out the side door to get whisked away in that limo. Clay must have politely refused their offer for one, because in the hour that followed we saw Mr. Leno drive himself away in one of his own vintage automobiles followed by all of Clay's band equipment loaded onto a truck. Clay finally emerged to get into his waiting black SUV, but not before he gave some organized attention to those of us waiting to see him.. Since he had to leave to get to his next commitment as a guest on KIIS-FM here in L.A., we were probably an annoyance to have to deal with. Not that he was rude. He wasn't. But he didn't interact with anyone very much, either. Not many smiles or eye contact. He signed autographs and graciously posed for pictures. I was conflicted within. Felt guilty and grateful for the opportunity at the same time.

Nelle got her now famous autograph before she was directed to stand next to Clay for a photograph. Funny, funny Nelle. She can tell her story better than I can. Then it was my turn. My daughter and her husband each shook his hand and took their places. I am not sure how it happened, but as the last one to enter the grouping, I somehow ended up directly on his right side sliding my left arm around his waist as he put his right arm around my waist. I couldn't resist giving him a little squeeze once the picture was over. That jacket. Did I mention I thought it was made of the finest of fabrics? There was no longer any question. As an aside, he had to dip his right shoulder to reach around me. I thought nothing of it at the time, but particularly love it now. Why, you ask? Because once the picture was developed, Clay looks just like his Rolling Stone cover-only in TTS clothes and no tummy showing. That probably would have been waaaaay too much to ask, don't ya think? If Security wouldn't let Nelle bring in her magazines, they would probably have frowned on my portable fan.

We retrieved the confiscated briefcase-like bag before returning to the car after what was truly a Perfect Day. Destination: Burbank Airport so Nelle could return home in time to attend her local CD party. It was The Best to have met her.

On the way my daughter said, "I can't believe you said that to Clay."

"Said what to Clay? Did I say something to Clay?"

"You said, 'Oh goodie, I get to hug him!'"

"'GOODIE?' You heard me say 'GOODIE?' I said that out loud?"

I submit, ladies, that was apparently the best I could do.

Louise

(Read Nelle's TTS BEVR here)

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