Old 97's/Rhett Fest '09
or my week as a 16 year-old middle-aged groupie
I'm back. Did you miss me? Sure you did, right? Right?
Okay, so I talked about my Rhett Fest week ad nauseum, and now it has finally come and gone. Too quickly, I might add. It started with a road trip to Hoboken last Friday. Geo was gracious enough to accompany me on this leg of my obsession...er, journey.
As luck would have it, the lovely blue-eyed one scheduled an in-store performance in a record store a little south of my sister's. We headed down there...in the teeming rain, only to be totally confused by our Google directions. We kept driving in circles once we reached the town. Panicked, I grabbed my phone and jumped on Navigator. Finally, we found the store. All was right with the world. (Note to self: NEVER use Google for directions. Especially for something as important as a Rhett appearance! Stick with AAA.)
Hanging around the outside of the store waiting for Geo, a sleek, black Sprinter bus pulls up. The door opens and ... ta da! Rhett himself steps out... like four feet away from me.
Because he's a good guy and his Momma taught him well, we chit-chat a bit before he enters the store. Now I'm getting the vapors.
The performance is fairly well attended and goes well. The crowd loved him. He's his usual charming self, belting out around a dozen songs, most of them requests. Here are a few I recorded.
The opener "Like Love" and "If It's Not Love". If you listen closely you can hear Geo shout out the request. I love him... Geo, that is. *Snort* You KNOW how I feel about Rhett.
The hit "I Need To Know Where I Stand" from his new CD aptly named Rhett Miller. Catchy, no?
Performing the oldie, but goodie "Jagged" and another knew tune "Caroline".
Afterwards Rhett did a meet and greet, taking extra time to talk with the half dozen children in attendance. He really digs kids. Another thing that makes him the perfect fantasy husband. Being the freak that I am, I stood in line to have him sign a couple of CDs, take photos, yak, etc. I even snagged a hug from the boy. Color me happy.
Grinning from ear to ear, Geo and I jumped back into the car and headed North for Hoboken. We decided to stay the night since we wouldn't be getting out of Maxwell's until one or two o'clock. I made reservations at the W Hoboken on River Street overlooking lower Manhattan. Uber swanky digs. Okay, there was something just a little odd and unsettling about this hotel. Service is a huge thing with this place. A little too huge. I mean they kept sending us emails asking if there was anything at all they could provide us to make our stay better. Without question. Anything at all.
Anything? Like, what...get a Filipino boy to scrub my back? A Geisha for Geo? It all seemed a little... pimpy, if you know what I mean. This whole "your wish is our command" sentiment was kinda wigging me out. But I have to admit, this was funny. Amongst a tray of items for sale in the room... you know the tray of snacks, t-shirts, whatever ... was this. (click on the photos for a larger view. really, do it. it's worth the read)
Hands down the best condom packaging EVA!
Later Geo and I met up with a woman I've become friends with over the internet, Cindy.
She's a professor of social media at Texas State and is a big music fan. She was in town on business, and joined us for dinner before the Old 97's show. It was great fun for me to stand with someone equally enamored who sang and danced along. She took the photos I've posted, because quite frankly her camera is waaaay better than mine. I have camera envy.
We hung around later so she could set up an interview with Rhett for later in the week--she also writes for music magazines and has a music blog. You can see her interview with Mr. Miller here. To my absolute delight, Rhett recognized me and Geo standing off to the side, walked over and gave me a big hug.
Did I mention I'm like a 16 year-old around him? Pathetic.
Next up, Dewey Beach. Geo passed on this excursion, but my friend Kelly was on board. Our Thelma and Louise act pulled into town Thursday afternoon. The hotel was literally one block down from the club. Sweet! We had time to kill so we headed to the beach for some much needed sun and surf.
On our way back to the hotel to clean up before the show, we pass the Sprinter parked alongside the club. And who should just happen to be standing next to the bus... you guessed it, Rhett!?!
I can't believe my fantasy husband saw me in my BATHING SUIT, sporting my crazy-assed, beach-blown, mop-top hair, reeking of surf and sweat. I'm sure the sight of me scared the bejesus out of him. He, of course said hello and threw out some other small talk to which I could only respond with a classic Neanderthal, monosyllabic grunt. How mortifying. I totally blew my chance to casually chat at length with him. Stupid, Stupid chick.
There's a chance he didn't recognize me, right? Right? Yeah, right.
To add to my humiliation, when I caught up with him after the show, I was all sloshy and slurry having drunk waaaay too much vodka during the show. Can you say Asshat? I did get some nice photos, though.
See that look right there... he's thinking about how hot I looked in my swim suit.
This post is gi-normous, so I'll post part three of Rhett Fest in the next post...because I know you can't get enough of my little obsession. Ciao!