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


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2004-03-29
9:42 p.m.

BEVR: PAULA IN ST.LOUIS / ST LOUIS BROADFEST: MARCH 20/21,2004

I know, I know, you're getting a little sick of all these BEVRs. They're all starting to look alike. You're tired of hearing about Clay and his concerts. Well, let me pique your curiosity...Can you say "jammie pants?"...as in CLAY in "jammie pants"...(My buddy Diana in St.Louis knows how those words excite me.) Interested now? Yes, I thought so. Okay, Broads, get your little purple pillows and blankies and gather 'round...

BROADFEST:
A group of 34 Broads (and some friends and relatives to fill the group out to 44) travelled to St. Louis to see Clayton (and each other) and party off our tassels. To say it was great fun to meet each other is a vast understatement. After meeting up and hugging each other until we were breathless, many of us had dinner together, then walked to a place called The Chocolate Bar where most of us had dessert or hot beverages while one of us mouthed a chocolate-covered banana (whew! Hi to you-know-who!) The group wound up at an improv comedy club where I somehow found myself onstage...that's a story all by itself.

On Sunday, the day of the concert, after the balance of the Broads hit town, we met at the Hard Rock Cafe at 4 pm to eat, party, exchange numerous mementos, listen to Clay's music, and pump up our Claylust and anticipation. With gleeful abandon, we even danced on our chairs in unison with our sisters from PRoC. Promptly at 6, when we had been whipped up to the height of our frenzy, we marched en masse to the site of the scheduled debacling---the Savvis Center---where the alpha male no doubt already prowled back and forth.

May I say the concert was paradise and over far too soon. I rest assured that my sistah Broads will describe his performance at length...

BACKGROUND OF THE MEET&GREET:
When our merry band of Broads found out that one of our members, Maylon (aka Claylon), was flying to St. Louis from Capetown, South Africa expressly to see Clay perform live in all his glory, we were thrilled...and intrigued. The other 33 or so St Louis Broadfest Broads travelling to St. Louis were part of a larger group of 44 intrepid souls who were travelling by automobile, bus, train and plane from Missouri, Ohio, Virginia, Tennessee, Michigan, Arkansas, Texas, Oklahoma, Indiana, New York, Minnesota, Maryland, Wisconsin, Illinois, California, Kentucky, Mississippi, as well as Halifax and Toronto in Canada, Sydney, Australia,(Maylon's daughter, Genevieve!) and the aforementioned South Africa.

Since Maylon was travelling more than 27 hours (each way!) to see Clayton strut his gorgeous stuff, several of our Broadly group expressed the fervent wish that we could somehow achieve the near-impossible for her----a backstage pass or "meet&greet". We knew that Clay would be thrilled and impressed to know about her too. But what to do? Fans know that these things are "as rare as hens' teeth". A couple of attempts were made at getting the information about Maylon to Clay----via Jerome, Jacob, Mama Faye and others at the Clayvention---but seemingly to no avail. Since I knew that scoring a Meet&Greet for Maylon would be the ultimate coup, I set to work for over a month, e-mailing and phoning. I repeated her story to a myriad of people. Long story short---I knew a guy that knew a guy that knew a guy. Though I had been advised by them not to hold out much hope, finally one of them had the "juice" to grant the request. To my shock, I learned two days before the concert that both Maylon and I (as the contact) would indeed be meeting Clayton. (But for me, not only had I scored a meeting but, more important than that, I caused our legendary member, Diana Kilbridge, to pronounce that I truly have some kind of "mojo"!) When I announced it to the gathering of Broads at a restaurant on the night before the concert, they screamed out an excited cheer while Maylon, obviously overcome by such a surprising development, covered her face. My contact had designated a meeting place after the concert, the I.D. we were to present, and the guidelines we were to follow. Now all we had to do was try to concentrate on the concert...

THE MEET&GREET:
After the last fluid notes of "Open Arms" left his lips, and Clay and Kelly waved their raised-arm farewells to St. Louis, Maylon and I wended our way to the appointed meeting place, were met by my contact, and joined the group of about 50 people that were assembled to be led backstage. Somewhere in the depths of Savvis waited Clayton---satisfied by having brought his best to St. Louis and fortified by the unadulterated love and applause of the fans. The head of security patiently reviewed the guidelines for the meeting: (1) NO touching of Clay or Kelly, (2) NO pictures during the autograph session, (3) Clay will not be speaking...so please do not ask him to, (4) ONE item to be autographed per person...you are to write your name on a small piece of paper which will be handed to Clelly at time of signing, and (5) a group picture will be taken using your own camera. One security person standing nearby asked me, kiddingly, "You don't feel like screaming and falling on the floor, do you?"..."No", I lied.

We were led to a smallish dressing room/coat room where we were asked to line up single-file in a square u-shape around the perimeter of the room. In front had been placed a folding table, about 8 feet long, with 2 metal folding chairs behind it. On the table were two stacks of 5x7 glossy black-and-white promotional shots of Clay and Kelly (in case a fan forgot to bring something to have signed) plus markers at each place. We waited quietly in hushed anticipation for perhaps 10 minutes.

Suddenly, when the single door behind and to the side of the table opened soundlessly and the air seemed to be sucked right out of the room---Kelly stepped through followed by The Clayton. He smiled a short raised-eyebrow greeting at the assemblage and took a seat, placing his now-half-empty small bottle of Dole apple juice to the side on the table.

The strutting, clutching, sex-on-a-stick alpha male evidently had been packed away along with the set and sent ahead to Chicago. In his place sat the adorable guy from Raleigh who giggled that giggle and grinned that grin and kidded with Kelly. Clay had changed into (wonder of wonders) his comfy I-just-gave-a-concert-and-now-I-just-want-to-relax clothes. Words escape me---except merely to describe what he now wore---soft, loose medium blue and gray plaid JAMMIE PANTS (sigh), tennis shoes, and in layers: a white Mr. Rogers t-shirt with a fire red neckband, over that an unbuttoned light blue shirt, the tail of which hung out from under the dark gray unzipped hoodie (hood-down) with yellow printing. His hair was still the same as we had seen onstage and, may I say...he is truly beautiful. Thick auburn hair, flawless skin, sparkling eyes...YIKES...well, you know. The process was begun quickly and I found that, from our vantage point toward the end of the line, I hung on every syllable, every look, every nuance, and tried to imprint it on my brain. I knew that the Broads would be interested in hearing every detail later. Had the security person said that Clay would not be speaking? He was wrong. Clay spoke...a lot. As gregarious as he is, silence would be pure torture...he clearly needs to speak with the fans who take the time to see him. Every accented word seemed like a jewel; every movement a work of art. His mood? Just...happy. A representative stationed in front of the table moved each person along by taking the small piece of paper and placing it between Kelly and Clay and making sure programs or CDs were open to the appropriate spot. As each person got the coveted minute or so, and had his or her name inscribed on an item, Clay made sure to look up and really connect with each person----he has a great capacity for that. A sincere smile followed the hoisting of those thick, brushy eyelashes (the ones that actually throw a shadow on his upper cheeks) to each person's face. You had to be paying attention to catch the quick sparkly green glint.

As he interacted playfully with his pal, Kelly, the line of people disappeared one by one into the next room for group pictures.

[See Maylon's BEVR which will follow for the account of her meeting.]

When it was my turn, I received a nice autograph on a promo picture from Kelly before I stepped sideways in front of Clay. My copy of the "Solitaire" CD was handed to Clay along with the slip of paper with my name on it..."Hi Paula..." (an inward EEEEEEEEK...okay, composure, don't fail me now!) While we talked and I asked him if he had received the group gift from our St. Louis Broads (he HAD, more on that in a subsequent account), I watched as his long, slender fingers worked so very patiently to remove the CD liner from its case. He autographed it, so that his message and signature would show through the clear plastic front----and just as carefully replaced it. I had barely been able to tell him how beautiful I found his rendition of "Solitaire" to be, before I was gently coaxed from behind to pass through the single door to the room where the group pictures would be taken.

I went in and joined Maylon and two young girls waiting for pictures in one corner of the room. To our left, in another corner, a huge group of fans was being positioned and assembled for the photo-op with Clay and Kelly. Were there 10, 12, 15 people waiting there? I can't remember. I just know that many cameras (their own) were lined up waiting for security people or interns to snap the picture. As Clay and Kelly came in and approached that group, Maylon and I were barely aware that Kelly then stood next to them and Clay had just squatted down in front of their group...for we were slowly coming to a wonderful realization. We looked at OUR photo group, and realized that it was only going to consist of the two young girls, Maylon and me. It was then that the two girls very tentatively leaned forward around Maylon and uttered music to our ears, "Listen...we're big Kelly fans...would it be alright if Kelly stands with us, and Clay stands with the two of you?..." Maylon and I just looked at each other, incredulous. We answered, "YES, that would be GREAT because we are Clay fans!"

Right after that exchange, Clay and Kelly were finished with the other group and ready to approach our part of the room for the picture. Needless to say, I was not aware of anything else but Clay sauntering over, turning around, and planting his bad self squarely between Maylon and me. I am a good little rule-follower and concentrated on keeping my arms down at my sides in preparation for the picture. That's when Clay threw yet another guideline out the window. I will never be able to vouch for what happened over on the right side of his body, but this is what happened on his left. I felt his left arm go around my waist and pull me in close for the picture. My right arm seemed to know how to respond...all on its own. It went right around his waist and my shoulder was nestled in his armpit. I was aware of my arm compressing all of those shirt layers and finally reaching his BACK. (For you scent-triggered readers, I smelled nothing. But for you stubble fans--myself included-- I saw evidence that he SO knows what we like. He was very CAREFULLY stubbled...with a perfect line of demarcation shaved along his jawline.) Once in position for the picture, I looked up directly into the side of his face and said, "OH..........MY............GOD!" and wonder of wonders, that made him laugh! For the snapping of the picture, his hand travelled up to the left shoulder of my leather jacket where, I hope, some of his molecules remain. After the picture, he lowered his arms and stepped forward and away toward the door where the security people awaited. My fingers waved a goodbye and I kiddingly (okay, well, sort of...) uttered a wistful and plaintive "Byyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyye Claaaaaaaaaaaaaay" to which he repeated "Byyyyyyyyyyyyyyye", perfectly echoing my plaintive tone. What a great sense of humor he has...

Though I could have very easily stayed there, collapsed in a heap, a long string of venue security motioned us to each subsequent passageway until Maylon and I found ourselves floating along on the sidewalk, giggling like schoolgirls, and rushing to spill the details to our awaiting Broads...

It wasn't until four days later, when Mr. Paula happened to flip open the case of the CD that Clay had signed for me, that he said "Hey, did you see this?" He turned it around to show me that Clay had even signed the actual CD. Simultaneously, hubby and I said, "AWWWWWWWWWW"...That Clayton H. Aiken?????? What a guy...

-- Lovingly submitted by Paula in St.Louis

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