My friend observed late last night that, "you okay? your voice sounds a bit rough..." Well, yeah! I've been screaming like a sixteen year old for three hours!
Yesterday was Day One of the two day A-ha extravaganza!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I queued up around 3:30 for a doors opening at 7. I met amazing peeps and had loads of fun. I became an instant hero because my ringtone is Take On Me. We shared stories, compared notes on favorite songs and albums, learned where we were all from and what brought us to the show, what we did for a living and what our pet peeves were. Instant bonding. (Which, of course, is different than instant bondage!)
Doors open, and I make a beeline for the merchandise table. $125 dollars later, I've got two shirts, a poster and a bag to show for it.
Ran into my friend from line and we devised a strategy. First night, front row against the rail, second level. From there, we could take in the entire show. She cried at her songs, I cried at mine. We both cried at the end, when the band stood together, arms around each other, and shouted GoodBye. Night two would be the chance to bum rush the stage, close enought to watch the sweat pour down their faces.
After the show, I waited - not exactly patiently - for the band to come out. One by one, they did. Mags. Pal. And then - finally - Morten.
I got all of their signatures. And when Morten came out, I got to look him in the eye and say, "Thank you. Thank you for everything."
Because they've been the soundtrack to my life. Scoundrel Days came out when I was a teenager and needed to go in my room and be angry at my parents and shout loudly along with Cry Wolf. And Analogue came out when I was going through a rough break-up. And East of the Sun West of the Moon came out when I was trying to figure out who I was and what I believed in.
So I thanked him. And then, the most amazing thing happened. Morten Harkett, the only unblemished love of my life, looked ME in the eyes and said, "You're so very welcome."
It was only a moment to him. He probably forgot it the second after it was said. But it will remain with me forever. Because at that moment, I found a true glimpse into what made me ME.
I drove an hour into Manhattan to experience something important to me. I navigated my way from Jersey to the Lincoln Tunnel and then through the busy streets of New York City. I stood in line with strangers and wound up with friends. I found someone I totally connected with. I chatted with drunken fanboys. I got the signature of each member of a band I've loved forever. I walked to a luxurious hotel and from the downy comfort of my bed, I shared my exultation with friends across the country.
I am strong. And powerful. And passionate. And confident. And capable. And dedicated. And funny. And insightful. And likeable. And worthwhile.
I'd forgotten all of this.
It took a concert to remember.
Life is funny, ain't it?