2004-05-11 - 9:52 p.m.

Only had to wait 20 years

Time to catch up around here...

Back to that benefit concert I went to a couple weeks ago. Seems like forever ago. All I've done is bitch about it so far, but it was great. So many really talented artists and bands. I didn't know most of them, since they were local and I traveled a good little ways to get there, but I did actually know more than I thought I would, and was surprised to see some familiar faces up on the two stages.

I was checking out the crowd all afternoon, looking for the faces of the performers I was there to see. Everybody seemed to know everybody, and they were all milling around. Didn't pick out anyone I specifically recognized, but I kept "recognizing" musicians. They just had a look and a presence about them. I'd see someone and think, "okay, he's got to be in one of the bands," and sure enough, sooner or later he'd turn up onstage. Just a vibe you could sense.

There was a Bon Jovi tribute band that was really good. The lead singer looked as much like Jon Bon Jovi as it's humanly possible to manage, when you start with someone who looks nothing like him and you aren't willing to include plastic surgery in your repertoire of tools. But good hair, good clothes, good mannerisms, and a fantastic voice. The lead guitarist looked absolutely nothing like Richie Sambora, but he had the hat (for Dead or Alive) and the talkbox. And what he did look like was not cause for a single complaint. I wished I knew more Bon Jovi lyrics so I could sing along. For the most part, performers like when the audience can sing along, even when they're playing someone else's songs.

In fact, every act I saw was really good. Some of them had tossed something together with very little rehearsal, or were playing as a solo act when they were used to being with a band, or were playing with other musicians who were pitching in to be a sort of "house band." They weren't perfect. Who wants perfect? But they were all very enjoyable. Sometimes during the course of the day I'd walk by someone who I had seen performing earlier, and if I wouldn't be interrupting, I'd always stop just long enough to tell them that I'd enjoyed their show. Every one of them, without exception, talked to me for a few minutes, much longer than just "oh thank you," and seemed so genuinely appreciative of the compliment. In most cases I'd never heard them before that day, and still couldn't tell you their names, but I was sincere in telling them I'd enjoyed their show. No one sucked. With so many acts playing, I think that's pretty impressive.

Turns out there were three artists there that are real favorites of mine. They may not be household names, but I certainly think they should be. The last one of those three to play was Robbin Thompson. He is a singer-songwriter-musician from Virginia whose music I dearly loved in my late teens. I got to see him perform a few times in very large venues back in the day, once with this guy from Jersey named Bruce, who used to be a bandmate of his. The last time I had seen him was over 20 years ago at a small place in my hometown. After he played, it would have been very simple and 100% appropriate for me to go up and say hello, but I couldn't do it. It may be hard to tell, but I'm really very shy. All evidence to the contrary is an act that I've gotten better at over the years.

A couple of years ago, I re-discovered Robbin and found out that in addition to having his own very successful recording studio, he still performs, mostly around Virginia and that area. I'm not there any more, but I knew he had ties to the NJ music scene, and I hoped maybe one day he'd at least come that close. Back when I first found out he was still out there, I wrote him an email, told him where I was from, and the story about how I'd been too shy to say hello and I'd always been sorry I hadn't. He wrote me back and said he was sorry too, and next time I definitely had to come up and say hi.

Well long story short, I came to this show armed with one of his CDs for him to sign, and a little bit of nerve. Once again it was a small place, not hard to get to the performers, and not at all inappropriate to go up and talk to them. But I was still so nervous - you have no idea how close I came to chickening out. After 20 years though, and who knows when I'll see him again, I knew I would be really upset with myself if I just stood there and didn't say anything. So after he played, I scooted over by the stage door and waited, and got his attention when he walked by.

I think he was a bit surprised to see a fan so far from his usual turf, and I gave him the very short version of how long I'd been a fan and where I'd seen him before (I was determined not to be shy - stupid was fair game) and asked him to sign the CD book. Like everyone else, he was very kind and appreciative, and said he'd be glad to. He was in the middle of clearing his stuff off the stage though, so he told me not to go away and he'd be right back.

When he came back by a few seconds later, he still wasn't done getting everything put away. He couldn't stop and talk, because someone else was coming on stage and they needed to get the changeover done, but he seemed to be troubled that he was walking by me and putting me off again. I don't know if he was afraid that I would think he was blowing me off, or concerned that he'd get busy and not make it back over to me. For whatever reason though, he said, "Here - hang on to this and you know I'll come back." And he handed me his guitar and ran back to the stage to get the rest of his gear.

Let me tell ya.

That was pretty damn cool.

Think I can hire myself out as guitar-sitter to the stars? Because I think I could go for that. It could be my true calling.

So he signed my CD - spelled my name right and all (he asked - doesn't sound like much of a trick, but not everyone bothers), and we talked for a couple minutes. He wrote on it, "Don't forget me!" And if I may get all retro-80's on you for a second... as if.

And of course I gave him his guitar back.

See, I told you I really did have fun.

my mood -

the mood of the whole world wide bleepin' web -