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


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2003-12-18
5:12 p.m.

BEVR: Carol in FL - Fort Lauderdale Jingle Bell Bash

You�d think by now, I�d have a handle on this concert stuff; after all, this is my second time going to see the Love of My Life. I�m no rank amateur any more. Having said that, I behaved just like one!

First of all, I waited until the day of the concert to shop for the things I�d need (panties to throw, poster board, etc.). I�m chalking it up to senility, over-excitement and not enough sleep! So, at a reasonably early hour, I find myself at Wal-Mart (the store I used to love to hate, but that�s another story entirely), stocking up on these very supplies.

First stop, the office supplies aisle ~ poster board, check. Glue, check. Glitter ~ oh sh*t! There�s no purple glitter! Now what do I do? Okay, red glitter is good ~ Christmas-y and it�s a color that�s been used to identify a Clay fan. Gold glitter � just because I like gold and I like glitter. After half an hour in this aisle, I do, in fact, come across purple glitter already in some gooey, gluey substance ~ hooray!

Now, shopping for a suitable gift for my Sugarpiehoneybunch (did I mention that I used to hate Wal-Mart?) and found a nice pair of black satin boxers with holographic "ornaments" printed on them! Perfect! I also purchased a lovely, lavender (no purple in stock), lace thong to go with the boxers. All set... now a dash home to get all this ready for the big show tonight!

First things first: Make my poster, but what to say? Something simple and to the point. Aha! Lecherous Broad, with an arrow underneath pointing to me as I stand beneath it. "Lecherous" in red/green glitter, "Broad" in purple (what else?) and the arrow in gold. Works for me. Took me an hour to do the darned thing, but it wasn�t half-bad, so I took a picture of it for y�all. Sort of propped it on the arms of the chair to take the pic, then left it there while I went to do other stuff. When I came back, because the glue hadn�t dried, all the letters were dripping (just like a Halloween poster), but I thought, if he even gets a glimpse of this, he just might think it�s strange enough for a wink, or a smile or something, so I took it with me anyway.

Sewed three smallish bells at the crotch of the boxers (so we can hear him ... coming) and wrapped the thong inside the boxers, like a Christmas present.

Tied a bow and a note to it that said, "Just like this/You wrapped around me/That�s my Christmas wish" and wished him a wonderful holiday, great New Year, yada yada yada.

Drove down to a local lady�s apartment so I could follow her down to the Hard Rock Caf�, where a bunch (60+) of us were going to meet before the show. The weather was horrible and pouring down with rain, so we got a little separated. But no problem, I basically knew where I was going. I had a lovely woman riding with me (Pauline) who, at 63, claimed she didn�t feel "that way" about Studly. As I mentioned previously, she also had not heard any of the demo songs. Well, I took care of that, you�d better believe. On the hour�s drive down to Ft. Lauderdale, I introduced her to "early Clayton." We grooved to "Still the One" and puddled to "The Blood Will Never Lose Its Power." Thankfully, she now thinks of Clay "that way!"

Okay, okay! Enough foreplay. On to the concert. Thirteenth row, section 2 in front of the stage, slightly off to the side. Not bad; not as good as I�d like, but not bad and certainly better than my AI seats. I sat alone as, when the tickets went on sale, we kind of all fended for ourselves. I was surrounded by people many years younger than I (can�t remember really feeling old before that night). I gave my Clay present to one of the group I was with who was sitting closer than I was; she passed it on to another who was sitting even closer, but I have since found out that security wasn�t allowing anything to be tossed onto the stage so now I don�t know where Clay�s jingly boxers are. All I know is, he�s probably not wearing them!

The place was rockin� and so much was going through my head. One of my first thoughts was that the crowd was soooo into all the other performers, how would they react to Clay? He�s so different from every act that was up there (more on that in a moment)!

I was truly prepared to totally hate the whole show, except for our Beloved, but I was pleasantly surprised. We saw Maroon 5, Jason Mraz, Simple Plan, JC Chasez, Enrique Iglesias and Michelle Branch ( I left before Chingy) and only had two complaints (aside from the obvious one of the whole show not being ALL Clayton): one, the music was way too loud (yes, I know, my age is showing), obscuring some very talented people. I was particularly taken with Jason Mraz, who reminded me a lot of Clay in that he, too, is no "cookie cutter" pop star. My second complaint (again, aside from the obvious) was that JC Chasez sang songs I felt were inappropriate for the age group of kids that were there. His songs and dancers were highly sexual and explicit and there were some real young�uns there; if it had been a totally adult audience, I would have been fine with his performance.

At long last (for both you AND me), Clay came on, and turned on. You would never have known he was sick; he performed as he always does, with all the energy we�ve come to expect from this professional.

He sang RTM, The Way and closed with Invisible, thanking all of us for making it such a huge hit. During the entire concert, I�d actually been very self-conscious of my age (probably for the first time in my life) and wondered several times what the kids sitting next to me thought of this old broad being at this kind of concert. They were up and shaking to all the acts and while I wondered not only how they would respond to Clay, I also figured they were thinking, "the old lady probably likes the geeky guy," and were waiting to have a good laugh. I�m happy to say that I was so very wrong. Not only did these girls whoop it up with the rest of the auditorium, one of them asked if I was his mom (it�s the red hair and clearly she�s not THAT big a fan, otherwise she�d know his mama is a sweet, blonde Southern belle, but I was flattered anyway) and when I started crying (oh yes, I did) as he sang, they asked if I was alright.

The Clayton sang like an angel, but you all knew that. He wore the same outfit we�ve seen in so many pics: black shirt, blue jeans and didn�t have glasses on, which is probably just as well, because I would have puddled even worse than I did! The consensus was that he still had no contacts in because some people saw him squinting. I can�t vouch for the squinting; I was too busy trying to watch him, contain my tears, take pics, and hold up my sign (which security made me put away because they said it was "too big." Ha!). I was witness to the little hoppy back step, the chest pound, and some delicious knee bends. He spoke a little between songs and did sound a little raspy; at one point, he even had to clear his throat quickly to continue what he was saying, but once he opened his mouth to sing, you would never have known he was under the weather (I want to be under him!). Energy, charisma, talent and love ~ thy name is Clayton. People in the very front who stood by the stage (I still have no idea how they got there, and am not entirely convinced they were front row people) got to touch his hand, as he graciously bent to them as he sang. He tore my heart out then with his appreciation for his fans. He always goes the extra mile. Earlier, Enrique Iglesias had come out into the audience to sing (he�s a Miami boy and had a huge fan base there) as well as taking someone from the audience to sing to her onstage. All I could think of was: OMG! What if Clay did that? Someone would have gotten seriously injured!

I saw the most beautiful man I�ve ever seen from maybe 50 feet away and it�s not enough (two inches away may never be enough). Next time I am determined to get front row seats, though I was told (at least at this particular venue) that the people in the front couldn�t see or hear anything. I need to find out for myself! And no more trying to take pictures ~ I�d rather burn the memory of the performance into my brain. I was drained and exhilarated all at once (you know the feeling). It all happened so quickly and was over much too soon. It took on a dreamlike quality: was I really there and did I really see him? Yes, I was; I have the ticket to prove it and, hopefully, pictures as well. Would I spend this ridiculous amount of money again to see him sing three songs? You�d better believe I would! Will I be self-conscious of my age again if I�m in a room full of teens? Probably, but I�ll get over it. Because nothing, but NOTHING, compares to being in the same room with this man and hearing him sing just for you, because that�s what it feels like.

I�m probably copying this from someone and if so, I apologize: Ticket to concert: $101.50, parking: $10, seeing Clay live: PRICELESS.

P.S. Nonnie is one of our local Clay fans and she rocks!

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