Did a little karaoke last night and when a fun-loving, UCLA-looking group got up to sing "Don't Stop Believin'", I had a flashback to my early 80s obsession with the band Journey. No, it wasn't on-par with my love for Duran Duran, (although with Journey, it was all about the songs, not the impossible good looks and puffy, white shirts of Simon LeBon.) I slow-danced to "Open Arms" with Tom Nesbitt (sorry Tom, if you're reading this, the truth must be known) and I played spin-the-bottle in our Waco playroom, while "Faithfully" gently played in the background. Oh and then there was the roller-skating. How the lights would flash different colors when "intense" songs came on like "Separate Ways" and "Who's Crying Now" and we'd all prematurely end our games of Ms. Pacman to rush out to the floor and really "feel it." ("Hold on to that fee…a…yeee…a…a…lin")
But like most wondrous things/obsessions with men, it all came to an end when I actually got to meet one of them. My Dad was the program director for a radio station and for some reason, they were running a contest in which the prize was "win a day of bowling with Steve Perry". Why wouldn't it be, right? Because everyone knows that the passionate singer for the power-ballad hit-makers had to be a good bowler, surely?
So when the big day came, of course I insisted on being there. I wore parachute pants and a fedora, for some reason and when my parents finally got around to introducing me to Mr. Perry, he barely looked my way. I realized, this man clearly doesn't care about me like I care about him. It seemed that our chances of making little Steve Perrys were now out of reach and I was devastated. Here I was, "coming to him…with open arms" like he'd asked me to and he was not reciprocating.
But guess who was there to pick up the pieces? Go on…guess. I'll give you a hint: it rhymes with "Ryan Adams" and involves the Summer of 69'. Yep, for some strange reason, Bryan Adams was also there; (I think he was the band's opening act) and when he saw Steve dismissing me, he immediately rushed over to tell me he liked my hat. Damn right he did. Mr. Adams saw the real me that day and Steve Perry totally missed out. Cuts like a knife, doesn't it Steve? Cuts like a knife. (For the record, I still love the band Journey and will sing along with them every time. But Steve and I are totally through).
Ever meet one of your heroes to find out that they weren't so amazing after all? Email me at Shescrazyhesaliar@gmail.com and tell me about it!
Growing up in Toronto, my friends and I would always stalk the high-end hotels during TIFF and wait hours to get a glimpse of George or Brad or anyone slightly famous!
ReplyDeleteDon't know why we kept going back every year, we never had much success but no celeb other than George ever gave us the time of day to sign a few autographs! HE was so sweet with us though!