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


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2003-07-24
10:24 p.m.

BEVR: Marie & Kelly/Cleveland

Broad's Eye View Report: Marie & Kelly/Cleveland

KELLY AND MARIE DO CLEVELAND

DOUBLE YOUR PLEASURE

PREPARATIONS


(Kelly)

Tuesday night I made sure my pants were clean for the show. My parents' washing machine broke and I was looking at either finding a laundromat or wearing the pants dirty. Marie told me if I showed up in the pants that I wore for 10 hours at the Detroit show, that she wouldn't sit next to me. I found a Laundromat.

Also, I bought a really snazzy white shirt from Target for the occasion. I wanted to look vaguely Grease-Clay-like but not over the top. I think the look succeeded.

Another impulse buy on Tuesday night was Spirit Foam. In case you've never heard of this stuff, it comes in a spray can and you spray foamy designs on your car that peel off without staining it. I bought red. Wednesday morning I used the faulty nozzle to scrawl "Honk 4 Clay" on my roommate's car. After removing half a can of Spirit Foam from my hands, I proceed to sit at my computer and wait for Marie to call me... which she has, unbeknownst to me.

(Marie)

I prepared for Clayfest 2003 in true Drama Queen style. First, I spent WAY too much money on my tickets. Then I spent WAY too much money AGAIN on a really up close floor seat, immediately followed by massive bouts of buyer's remorse. Next I HAD to have a red leather jacket to wear. Said jacket was ordered in compulsive haste, incorrectly. Thus, said jacket arrived mere days before the concert in BLACK. The Holy Red Jacket of Grease was delivered on the day of the concert at 7:30 am, thanks to the good vibrations of Broads and Brudes everywhere.

The aforementioned dramatics were tempered by the sweet and lovely Media Broad Kelly, who would be the recipient of one extra ticket to the Cleveland Clayfest. Planning this trip to meet Kelly restored balance to my majorly screwed up obsessive chi.

THE DRIVE

After having a near panic attack waiting for the phone call, I call Marie and find out that she's left already. This is not the plan! We are supposed to leave at the same time since the trip should take us each three hours. Bah! I run out the door with signs, my entire make-up tackle box, two purses and my "Ultimate Clay" CDs.

Here's something most people don't know about me: I drive fast. I don't really think it's that I like to drive fast, it's more like I can't stand driving and that I have the impulse to be early to everything. I should have remembered this particular personality quirk while I was getting flustered about not being able to meet Marie on time.

The drive was nice. I saw some crazy street signs in Ohio, which I can't remember now so I don't even know why I'm mentioning them. Roommate's car has CD changer so I could listen to "Ultimate Clay" CDs back to back.

I arrived at the CSU Convocation center around 2:30PM, parked in the lot across the street for $15 (which is appalling, but considering I didn't spend another dime the rest of the day, not too bad), and applied make-up in the car. I should have realized that my face is a grease factory and brought something to clean it before the make-up application, but alas I was doomed to be an oil slick when I met Marie.

I wandered around the front of the venue for awhile, looking for Marie who I hoped I would recognize by her leather jacket...

I picked up my friend and travel companion, Wendy, and we were Cleveland bound. The drive was uneventful and hilarious all at once. Wendy was subjected to my top-of-the-lungs "homages", as I like to call them, to Downy Ball's American Idol performances. Lucky girl.

THE PICK UP

...Can-Can music plays...

"Hello?"

"Marie?"

"No, this is Wendy. Hang on. Here's Marie."

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

"In front of the CSU Convocation Center. Where are you?"

"IN FRONT OF THE CSU CONVOCATION CENTER! Are you in your car or on foot?"

"On foot. You"

"In my car. I am picking you up NOW. Where are you? I don't see you or your hair or your shoes."

"I am walking..."

"There you are! OH MY GOD!"

"YAY!"

I pulled over, jumped out of the car and ran to embrace Kelly. We are yelling and making a big spectacle of ourselves, which is the first of many times this will happen throughout the course of the evening, so get used to it. Kelly gets in car aaaaaaaand...THEY'RE OFF LIKE A PAIR OF PANTIES AT A CLAY AIKEN CONCERT.

THE DRIVE AROUND

Hilarity ensues in the car, as Wendy obviously regrets the trip more and more. That is until we started singing Tenacious D songs. I purchased a Red Bull at the gas station. Believe me, I didn't need it. Marie is caffeine incarnate.

5 hours to concert time. 5 hours to get completely hyped up and rewind our biological clocks 10 to 15 years. Yep, 5 hours ought to do it.

Rewinding one's biological clock is not an easy task. Mostly it involves driving dangerously in circles looking for a gas station and playing music full blast with all the windows open. It helps if you can sing filthy dirty lyrics as loud as possible and scream, "OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO BE BREATHING THE SAME AIR AS CLAY!" every 5 to 7 minutes.

DINNER

I may just be a na�ve inexperienced traveler, but I found Cleveland confusing. Finding a restaurant that wasn't called "The Winking Lizard" was like prying me away from my computer if an "Invisible" video is on. We finally found a nice steakhouse with a large open window.

Amazingly, I found something that sounded appetizing to me. I am pretty picky. I think eating was secondary at this point because I was just so jazzed to be sitting at a table with my buddy Marie. At one point, while Wendy was out of embarrassment range, Marie looked at me and said, "How fricking cool are we?" We did double high fives across the table. I don't blame Wendy...

At the end of the meal, Marie decided she was going to flaunt her wealth. She insisted upon paying for the whole meal. Too bad I didn't know this ahead of time; I would have ordered Filet Mignon.

A piece of advice for anyone traveling long distances for a shot at seeing Kleine Butterblume... DO NOT MAKE A HYPOGLYCEMIC TRAVEL COMPANION ENDURE THE DRIVE AROUND. We had to find a restaurant, pronto. If pronto means circling metropolitan Cleveland 7,892 times, then we succeeded. I won't get into the details of my parallel park, but let's just say there was much gasping and sucking air through teeth heard from the Broad in the back seat. My parallel parking skills would have been more impressive if the blind spot and entire back window weren't obscured by pictures of Package Boy taped all over them.

Dinner was lovely. Kelly and I chatted up a storm, as if we'd known each other forever. She says she is the yin to my yang, and she is absolutely right.

PUTTING ON MAKEUP

After dining, there was still three hours until our Downy Ball took the stage so some time murder was in order. We circled Cleveland for the 80,000th time and Marie finally decided upon a parking lot not too far from mine. Of course it was $5 cheaper...damn naivet�.

Strangely enough, I wasn't the only one to bring her entire make-up bin, Marie had a plastic shoe box full of Clinique products. Wendy was enjoying herself by picking up items and telling me how much they cost. This should have embarrassed Marie...

After Marie's lips were suitable for Mr. Golden Delicious, we hauled our asses over to my car and my tackle box. Once we arrived, I felt impatient for some reason (God knows why since the show wasn't for another 2 and half hours). I only put on some powder and fixed my undereye circles.

Fueled for the next round, we began what I am calling PROJECT MARIE LOOKS LIKE A HO. Sitting in the parking lot, I applied approximately 84 layers of makeup to my face. My lips stood out like a turd in a church. Oh my gosh they were RED. I'm not sure, but I think Kelly and Wendy were getting a wee bit annoyed with my constant queries of "How's my hair?" and "How's my lipstick?" I needn't have bothered since I kissed off my lipstick in a matter of minutes inside the arena. I'll just leave the details of that for later...

On our way to Kelly's car for a quick touch-up, we met two darling young girls and their mom who had just come from a meet and greet with the Idols. The inside scoop is...CLAY, RUBEN and KIM CALDWELL are THE nicest and most generous of spirit, RICKEY is hyper, CHARLIE is a doll, and CARMEN is...and I quote...A BRAT. These women were our new best friends.

THE LINE UP

Signs in hand, the merry threesome makes it's way across the street to the venue. There's a radio station set up out front and they are blaring irritating pop music that I am unfamiliar with because all I listen to is Clay CDs.

We sort of mosey around a bit and settle for awhile on a ramp. We stand there and look superior, which we are good at since we are superior. We point out fashion faux pas and comment on people's lack of imagination with their signs. We obviously are the Sign Queens, full of wit and imagination. Our signs get some attention after we figure out how to display them discreetly, and then when interest is shown, blatantly lift them up, smile and point to our feet or jacket.

I continually comment that there is no reason to be lining up since the show has assigned seating. I'm sure it was annoying. The real reason I kept whining is that I was afraid there was something I was missing. Was there a ticket upgrade giveaway inside? Were there free burritos? My main fear in life is missing something...this is just another example of that phobia manifested.

Here comes the part when Marie and Kelly turn into total b**ches and their heads spin all around. We are about 2 hours to show time, and we hear all this SCREAMING coming from the front of the arena. We are not stupid broads. We deduce that there may be Idol Sightings going on, a peek from a window, perhaps, and we hightail it over to the concourse. No idols. Just a second rate DJ and his overly zealous interns causing a pointless frenzy. Feh.

Marie turns Queen B**ch first, mostly because my hair got messy in the aforementioned rush. Furthermore, NO ONE IS NOTICING MY FRICKING OUTFIT OR COMMENTING ON MY SIGN. It was a huge poster with red metallic borders and lettering which read "CLAY?S GOT THE MOVES!!" The poster was decorated with two large pics of Grease Clay. I duplicated that whole look quite nicely, if I do say so myself. I mean, here are all these people, SO-CALLED Clay fans in homemade T-shirts and painted on jeans, and NO ONE notices that I am Grease Clay? Whatever.

Kelly was b**chverted upon seeing people standing in A LINE in front of the arena for NO APPARENT REASON WHATSOEVER. This was the part of the day when we spent an inordinate amount of time huffing and puffing and making fun of the people walking by.

I think we were subconsciously trying to make sure we didn't use up all our positive energy B.C. (Before Clay) and be all empty and dry when he hit the stage. I'm psychological that way.

PRE-SHOW JITTERS

I really wasn't jittery. Maybe I was a little worried about my seats. I was trying not to think of it. Frankly, anything was better than my Detroit seats.

Once in the arena, I think the discussion went something like this...

"Omigod, omigod, omigod, omigod, omigod, omigod, omigod, omigod! How's my lipstick?"

SITTING DOWN

We walked in the arena and oh man! It was apparent that our seats couldn't really suck because it wasn't that big in there. Wendy found our seats and sat down while I walked Marie down to the main floor. Her metal folding chair was a grand total of 10 feet away from Clay...er...the stage. She sat down and Wendy and I looked at each other while she waved at us and we said, "She's lonely." It didn't take long for her to make some seat buddy friends, which was good, because she was going to hurt herself with all that wild gesticulation. Marie, I still don't know whether you wanted a hot dog or a yardstick.

Well, Wendy and I were pleased with our seats because it was quite obvious from their distance from the side of the stage that any sign I held up could be seen and commented upon. Too bad these weren't our seats. Ours were a section over. Just a quick note: I AM NOT BITCHING! The seats were incredible! The asshats in the surrounding seats...were not.

Wendy and Kelly went happily to their seats in the lowers. I sauntered with great arrogance and glee to my seat in the third row. I was a freaking peacock, people. Like I was THE ONLY ONE down on the floor or something. Since it was a bit more than an hour to show time, that was pretty much the case. I spent the next 30 minutes waving frantically to Kelly and sticking out my tongue at her. I told you about the biological clock thing, right?

Early arrival gave Queen Marie ample time to view her subjects. A lovely lot they were. Men, women, drag queens. More on that later. Signs and posters galore, but none to rival that of King Clay's fair queen. More on that too, in a minute. HOLD YOUR HORSES! YOU SHOULD KNOW HOW TO DO THAT FROM YOUR TIME ON THE RANCH! Sheesh!

My humongous sign was getting some mad attention by this time, and along came the American Idol videographer. I was holding the sign and laughing up a storm and she stood there with her big ol' camera and light in my face and taped my shenanigans for about five minutes. I wanted to think she kept the camera on me because of my extremely photogenic visage and presence, but really, it was probably because I didn't look right at her and start screaming into the lens. I was au naturel. Now I can fantasize that this clip will show up on the Official Concert DVD or next season's concert tour recap or Clay's VCR in his bedroom.

AUDIENCE CONDITIONS

Who sits through a whole concert?! Really, who? I'll tell ya who. EVERYONE SURROUNDING WENDY AND I! Wendy had claimed she was going to do the same, but as soon as the music started, she was standing, yelling, dancing and singing along. This did not sit well with the a**hats. After two songs, a woman behind us asked us to sit down. Wendy said no. Others began to gang up until Wendy said, "This is a concert, I stand up at concerts." Heh. That'll teach em.

Scanning the audience is one of my favorite things about concerts. The people of Cleveland came out in droves. The CSU Convocation Center is smaller than many of the arenas the Idols are playing, so it was small enough to be intimate but big enough to be wild.

I made buddies immediately with the people all around me, and began whoring out my sign as soon as possible. One K Lo Fan and I waved our signs at each other and it was apparent that I'd better put my masterpiece down before a riot ensued, sparked by mad jealousy.

The folks in my row were as bold and brassy as any self-respecting Broads should be and we had a blast moving our way up to the front row. I would not recommend trying this as my neighbor was sent back by security. YAY NEIGHBOR! BOO HISS SECURITY!

Clay's bodyguard Jerome stood in front of me for the duration of the show and it was pretty amusing to watch people sucking up to him and other security guards for backstage passes. Not gonna happen, unless you are 18 and have big perky boobs popping out of your demicut halter top.

Throughout the show, I was completely oblivious to the audience, except to note that Clay's fans are deafening. The adorable little girls in front of me dancing on their chairs had earplugs. That was a good move on the parents' part. There were tons of kids in the audience and Clay does a PRETTY decent job of trying to keep the family atmosphere intact. I SAY PRETTY DECENT BECAUSE YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE YOUR EARS WHEN YOU HEAR WHAT HE SAID ABOUT SOME PANTIES THAT WERE THROWN. More on that later.

ACT ONE

After finding what we thought were our seats, Wendy and I settled in. We chit chatted awhile and then on comes the good ol' dawg himself. We welcomed Charles to the stage. I personally feel ambivalent toward him, sort of viewing him as the quiet little brother of a hot boyfriend. But he sang a good song so I danced and clapped along. Grudgingly found Julia to be entertaining. Halfway through Ricky, a woman and her offspring came and told us we were in the wrong seats. Pshaw say we, you are in the wrong seats. Woman came back with flashlight man...we were in the wrong seats. So over we move to a**hatville. Stood up for everyone except Carmen. By the way, my roommate recently informed me that she cannot help but liking Carmen because she is so cute. Did I mention that I hate her...just kidding Leah.

Kimberly Locke rocks the mothership! What I think is the coolest is that people aren't clapping and yelling for her because they think she's hot. She is, but that's not why people like her. She's understated and classy. The reason she gets mad props is because her voice is incredible. In Marie's words, "Don't kill me but I think she is AS GOOD as Clay!" Totally Marie, totally.

I will save my reactions to Clay for the general Clay section. But can I just say that I was torn between looking at the jumbotron and at him live? I was really close to the screen and it was sparklingly clear, so I could seriously see freckles and the fact that he was flushed. And those eyes! Man, I generally pride myself on being original, but Clay just makes it really difficult....and hard!

Okay, here's the thing. Everything you've read in all the great concert reports about all the Idols' performances has been true. I am hereby validating all prior BEVRs for accuracy and depth of perception.

Here's how it went down for me.

Everyone sings. That's a blur.

Clay Rises.

I am oatmeal.

My brain is going, "My, this young man has incredible vocal talent and range. He is magnetic on stage; mesmerizing, one might say, or perhaps, enchanting. He interacts beautifully with the audience and seems to have natural and effortless stage presence."

Yeah. Sure. Mmm hmmm.

My body is going, "GAAAAAAAAAH!" Literally, I was frozen. Unable. To. Move. Mouth agape. No sound escaping painted red lips. No foolish attention-seeking behavior. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Zero. I was like a STEPFORD WIFE.

I think Clay introduced Ruben, but I can't be sure.

Ruben may have done a couple of songs. I can neither confirm nor deny that.

The lights did go up after Ruben. I am sure about that.

INTERMISSION

Wendy and I made our way down to the fence between the main floor and lower bowl. Marie was moving slowly and looked less than enthusiastic. "Uh Oh," thought I. What I was actually thinking is that her camera was confiscated or that Clay made an ugly face at her or something equally terrible. Wendy kept asking her what was wrong. She was, we would later learn, in a state of shock. We were being glared at by everyone in the area for taking up space on the stairs so we separated again.

I lumbered over to Kelly and Wendy's section. They were staring at me, wide-eyed.

I thought, "Why are they staring at me like that? Is my lipstick smudged? Do I have toilet paper stuck to the bottom of my shoe?"

Wendy asked, "Are you okay? Did something happen down there?"

I replied, "Wha? Huh? Um, no, um, holy shit. Um, you guys!"

I think they understood what happened to me.

ACT TWO

This act is SO much more exciting than the first one. I'm sure everyone says this. Wendy and I were determined to stand up the entire time. Which we did, except during really slow songs. "Somewhere over the Rainbow" rocked of course. Also I happened to look up at the Jumbotron during "Bootylicious" and saw K.lo doing the booty dancing and she was totally rolling her eyes at herself. Another reason to love her!

Ok. The best part of the whole evening was when Ruben and Clay came on stage for "The Girl is Mine." There was a huge uproar of course when they came onstage. Then the boxer shorts flew. There were like four pairs. Clay was all, "WHOA! I'm gonna have enough underwear for the rest of the tour." Thongs flew too, and Ruben picked them up. Here's the kicker: I screamed at Clay, "Put them on!" and not 10 seconds later, he did! It was the best thing in the world, I was imagining him putting them on without those white pants and wowie zowie! So he just stood there with them on, soaking up all the laughter and cat-calls. Then Clay tells Ruben that he should put on the thong! Ruben says, "Are they fresh? Are they new?" and then Clay says, in a quieter than normal voice but still in the microphone, "Why don't you smell 'em?" Oh MY GOD! I just about died.

Then there was the nachos. From my side of the stage, I could see the people coming down toward the front with the nachos. They had actually left in the middle of the show to get food! Well they were just heading to their seats and Clay says, "Hey are those for us?" The rest is in Marie's portion, but oh man...backstage passes for nachos.

My only complaint about the second act is the placement of "Can You Feel the Love Tonight." I didn't think it was a showstopper to begin with, but placed after "Let?s hear it for the Boy," was like a shot of Valium at a birthday party.

Finally, I got it together. Extreme Whoring is my sport of choice at this point in the show.

DO NOT ask me about the songs or the order, because frankly, I didn't pay attention. The rule was: If Clay Is On the Stage, PAY TOTAL ATTENTION TO HIM. If Clay Is Off Stage, Fool Around With Your Digital Camera's Functions And Goof Off With The Girl Next To You.

Okay, so.

Clay hits the stage in white. Guess what? It's not leather. I hate to burst bubbles, but that's the ding dang truth. Don't worry, he looks fabulouso anyway. The boy could drape himself in a burlap sack and I would say he's got it goin' on. But I digress...

He's singing something and starts skipping over to my side of the stage. LET THE WHORING BEGIN.

I begin giving him bedroom eyes and COME HITHER arms replete with beckoning fingers. And it worked! WHORING WORKS.

He sees me, directs his attention, and I blow him about a million kisses.

He looks me square in the eyes, cocks his head, points at me, winks, giggles and waves.

Oh yeah, baby. Eye FRICKING contact. A definite eye f*ck. The locking of the eyes was most certainly long enough and the look was such that it can be described as eye f*cking.

The girl next to me grabbed my arm and started screaming, "OH MY GOD. DID YOU SEE HOW HE JUST LOOKED AT YOU? HE TOTALLY LOOKED RIGHT AT YOU!"

Um, duh. I am aware. I think I know a good eye f*ck when I get one. So I tell her, "Yeah, he wants me."

The rest of the show was faboo and had some absolutely classic moments. Here are the highlights:

1. Panties Galore. The first pair thrown is a yellow thong, followed by boxer shorts covered in chili peppers. Clay put the boxers on OVER HIS PANTS and told Ruben to put on the thong.

Mad laughter and woowoos from the crowd. Ruben picks up the thong and Clay proceeds to do his now standard line, "Wait, gimme that! There's a phone number on it!" followed by the pocketing of said number. Now, get ready for what Clay says next. Before I tell you, I would like to refer you to my earlier musings about Clay being PRETTY decent about keeping the show in the family way. Okay, here it comes. CLAY TELLS RUBEN TO SMELL THE PANTIES. What? OH NO, HE DIDN'T! Oh yes, he did. I quickly turned to the girl next to me and yelled, "DID HE JUST TELL RUBEN TO SMELL THOSE PANTIES???" I thought I liked Clay. Now I f'n LOVE HIM. If that is not snark at its finest, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS. Family show, my ass.

2. Nachos. During the Clay/Ruben banter, Clay noticed someone in the audience eating nachos. He remarked that they don't get snack breaks during the show, and the nacho lady must have offered some to him and Ruben. Clay invited her down to the stage and asked her a bunch of basic questions. Ruben was all about the nachos. I imagine he was thinking, "YO CLAY STOP WITH ALL THE FRIENDLY TALK AND BRING THOSE NACHOS UP HERE NOW." And that's basically what he said. And then he chowed on the nachos. And the Nacho People got backstage passes.

3. Drag Queens. There was a dude dressed up like Kim Caldwell. She fricking LOVED him. He got a backstage pass. I was thinking, "HEY! I AM A DRAG QUEEN IN REVERSE! A WOMAN DRESSED LIKE A MAN! WHERE IS MY BACKSTAGE PASS???" My entire section tried to whore me and my ensemble out to Clay and Kim C. when they were nearby, but no such luck. They can't hear a thing you say from the stage, no matter how loud you scream or how close you are. Believe me, we were LOUD. AND CLOSE. At one point, Kim got the drag queen up on the stage to demonstrate some dance moves. She was adorable. They hugged and kissed and he danced and sang. She said, "Oh my god, you're so PRETTY!" I was completely LOVING HER, and I will tell you why.

Moments before Kim brought the drag queen to the stage, she and Trenyce were center stage flanking Clay. They were doing the schtick about Clay's ability to dance. You know how it goes. So they get to the part where Clay is all NO NO I AM A TERRIBLE DANCER and they are all WHO THINKS CLAY IS A GOOD DANCER? And my sign is up. High.

Kim C. says, "See! Look, Clay! It says, "CLAY'S GOT THE MOVES!" All eyes turn to me and my sign. Cameraman dude whirls around and zooms in on me. I am all over the big screen, jumping up and down. Boobs ahoy. THANK YOU KIMBERLY CALDWELL!

I was too jazzed to even LOOK at what Clay's reaction was but I imagine it was something like, "Why, is that the sensuous and beautiful woman I eye f*cked earlier? I do believe it is. Could someone get her name and number for me?"

Damned Kelly and Damned Wendy were screaming so loud for me, even THEY didn't check out Clay's reaction. Thanks a lot. So we're all going with the reaction I imagined.

Now I and my sign had been all over the big screen a bunch of times before, but THIS WAS DIFFERENT. My sign was the only sign at the entire concert that was read aloud. Yep. Mine. Me. It's all about ME. I was having a good time up until then, but this really put me over the edge into The Land of Frenzy. I was the resident celebrity of my section and the sole representative of the Cleveland sign makers. On our way to the car after the show, I got plenty of "hey isn't that the broad with the sign?" looks. Yeah, baby.

The rest of the show was great, fine, whatever. All the microphones could have gone out for all I cared.

ENCORE

Oh man..."Invisible!" I really hate the words to this song, but Clay could sing about raping horses and I would sing along and buy the album. That boy just knows how to work it. The Clutches last night were the most blatantly sexual thing I've seen him do to date. He grabbed that shirt with gusto and looked right into the camera with smug pleasure on his face. You could see him waiting for the screams, which we gave up...that's not the only thing I'd like to give up to him...ooooohhh!

There was a near fall during one of his knee bends. It was so deep that I saw him teeter forward, toward Marie...oh imagine what would have happened to him had he fallen into her arms!

I will include this here because I don't really remember when it happened. At every opportunity, I held up my sign which I'm sure pissed the asshatvillians off even more, but hey it was now our mission to do just that. Well at one point I was holding up the "Clay is Sexy! VVVROOM" sign and he looked my way and LAUGHED! No pointing or anything, but a definite recognition from Downy Ball. This is confirmed in the Cleveland thread on That's the Clay! Also my signs made it on the big screen several times. Wendy and I screamed like idiots every time. A**hats 0 Me and Wendy 3.

All I can say is TRIPLE CLUTCH AND MAJOR TUCK ACTION. That boy knows EXACTLY what he is doing. Tucking JUST THE FRONT of his jersey into his pants to provide maximum package display and easy clutch accessibility.

I started recording "Invisible" on my camera, but my hands were shaking so much I could barely keep the camera steady. Not to mention the moment he ran over to my side of the stage, I was all FORGET THIS! I AM NOT WATCHING CLUTCH ACTION AND DEEP KNEE BENDS THROUGH THIS MINUSCULE SCREEN! LIVE FOR THE MOMENT! NOT THE MOMENT AFTER THE MOMENT! I was so close I could see his forearm hair. Damn. And the bends were deep and frequent, let me tell you. That IS my preferred move, so I was getting treats! Those deep bends are Clay Candy to me. Talk about Bootylicious. Man.

Clay's speech about the Bubel Foundation was sincere and touching. While he talked about that and his genuine gratitude to the fans for their support of him and the other Idols, the audience hung on his every word. Signs were shelved, screeching diminished, and applause was heartfelt, not frenzied. Clay's impact on the public is truly astonishing. His eyes sparkle when he talks and every word that escapes those rosebud lips is music to our ears. No, Clay, thank YOU.

GENERAL CLAY IMPRESSIONS

I would have to say that this was the best looking Clay yet. Seriously. He looked rested, freckly and sparkly. His hair was perfect and it looks like they might be slowly changing it back to red. Mama likes.

His voice was as stellar as ever. The reason I know this is because I really didn't pay attention to it. That's sort of a crime, because it's so beautiful, but because I listen to it all the time, my focus was on his beautiful body, face and mannerisms.

His interaction with his concert mates is beyond cute. Anytime he passed Charlie, he would high five him. Also he is really giving when it comes to making sure that others are getting attention from the crowd. He lets Ruben leave last and because Cleveland was Charlie's home town, he made sure to say something about Charlie at the end.

Did I mention that I love dorks? Well I do and I think this is the root of my continuous Clay obsession. During the band intro at the end, Clay was leaning on the staircase and banging things with his microphone. He was doing air drums and wiggling around and making funny faces. He is just the cutest! I couldn't help giggling the entire time he was doing this stuff.

A few moments I want to share...

Right before the last note of TITN, Clay stopped. He closed his eyes and listened to the crowd screaming and cheering and clapping and yelling. He opened them, smiled his big perfect smile and broke out into the last haunting note. He is equally awestruck of his fans as his fans are of him.

During God Bless the USA, Clay took out his earpiece and held his microphone out to the audience. I don't know what he could hear from his vantage point, but his downcast eyes and face showed powerful emotion. It was clear to me at this point that the Idols do love one another so much and are having the Time of Their Lives.

During the curtain call, Clay whispered something to Ruben. He then walked over to Charles Grigsby and grabbed his hand, pulling it up into the air. "Give it up for Charles Grigsby, Cleveland!" yelled Clay. He mentioned Charlie's celebrity status in his hometown of Cleveland several times during the show, and directed the cameras to Charles' mom and Trenyce's mom (who I chatted with a bit - it's easy to see where her daughter gets her loveliness) in the audience. Ever selfless, our Buttercup.

Oh, yeah, one more thing. I want to have about 14 of Clay's babies.

SAYING GOODBYE :-(

Alas, our time together was short, a mere eight hours. Marie drove me to my car and we hugged. I thanked Wendy for being such a great seat mate. And of course I thanked Marie profusely because she's the one who set the whole thing up and gave me a ticket. She gives the best hugs by the way. She hugs like my family hugs me with back pats and swaying. Very sincere and comforting feeling.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

THE DRIVE HOME

Recommendation: If you are driving home at night from a far away place and you begin to feel so sleepy that you find it necessary to slap yourself in the face to keep yourself from slamming into the meat truck next to you, pull off at a rest stop and get some coffee.

I would not recommend driving long distances following this concert. Stay in a hotel. Thank goodness for Coca Cola.

AFTER CLAY CONVO

You know we didn't go to bed as soon as we got home! I raved to my roommate how Clay laughed at her sign and she giggled like a maniac. Then Marie signed on AIM. It was a love fest. Lots of OMG and I can't believe we did that! We also planned out this here BEVR at 4 AM so if there are any flaws blame it on the fact that I am now a nocturnal creature and that Marie got 3 hours of sleep.

Hope you enjoy our account! And if you don't...then bleep off because it took a long time to write.

3:00 am. Run to computer. IM Kelly and discuss our BEVRs. Here's my final word.

Aside from THE VOICE and for giving me an outlet for my lechery and silliness, I want to thank Clay for something else. Thanks, Clay for bringing people together, whether on line or in line at the grocery store. In our "crazy lonely world" we must not underestimate the power of friendship and love. Had it not been for Clay, I never would have met this amazingly funny, incredibly intelligent, absolutely gorgeous and equally obsessed new friend. Our friends and the people we love are our greatest source of wealth, surpassing our bank accounts and stock options and mutual fund by leaps and bounds. Cherish the people in your life. You will be repaid tenfold.

Hey, Clay....SMOOCH!



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Note from Nelle: You, too, can participate in the LBFCA Summer Series, and have your Broad's Eye View Report of 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."

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