All day long Friday I was running around the house like a chicken with my head cut-off. I was a nervous wreck about what I should wear for my “date” with Daryl Hall and John Oates. I was terrified I’d forget my camera, or batteries. As it turns out, I didn’t forget a thing, and I think my outfit looked pretty good. WHH took my picture just before we left so that I could send it out to all of my Twitter friends on TwitPic. My sister wanted to vote on the outfits I was thinking about, but there wasn’t enough time. I had to get a mani-pedi because there was no way I was going to meet them with janked up hands and feet. GAH!
John Oates at soundcheck Charlie's far-right
We arrived at Chastain Park at 4:00 at the will-call window to meet David Brunetto, a rep for Hall & Oates. He took us into the venue for soundcheck with John and the band (apparently, Daryl does not do soundcheck). When the band was finished with soundcheck, it was time for us to get to meet John.
We planned on getting our passes autographed, and I’d brought a pad of nice paper for him to sign, but at the last second Michael said, “Hell, just ask him to autograph your shirt!” Holy moly, why hadn’t I thought of that? Thank goodness he was with me to keep me from passing out! I was shaking like a leaf and felt like a doofus, but John was very laid-back and friendly. Whew!
After meeting John, we got to go on stage and I could finally see up close and personal, Charlie DeChant’s saxophones and flute. OMG! OMG! I’ve been playing along with him on my saxophone forEVER! I love, love, love Charlie!
Once I’d finished ogling his equipment (Hey, Hey, Hey! You ol’ horn dogs! Stay with me here!) I checked out the tour bus for the crew. Michael stayed outside and took pics of the stupid geese on the pond. ;-)
We ate dinner with the band (I was having a hard time NOT staring at Charlie). We’d been instructed not to take photos or bug the guys because this was their down-time before the concert. I behaved, only because I didn’t want to get thrown out of there, and I’d yet to meet Daryl. They served pasta, and I purposely avoided the spaghetti and red sauce because I was terrified I’d slop some on mah boobies. I made it through the meal, no-sauce-sloppage. That is, until I decided to eat a piece of garlic toast. Yep, you guessed it, that sucker flipped out of my fingers, landing on my lap and then on the floor. I swear I’m such a freakin’ klutz. What’re ya gonna’ do, eh?
David took us into a room backstage where we awaited Dary’ls arrival. One guy in particular appeared even more excited than me! His wife finally whispered to me, “Gah! He’s such a girl!” LOL! David had us line up so that we could get this over with as quickly as possible, you know, Daryl’s a very busy man, etc. Yeah, yeah, OK, but I want to spend more than two seconds with the man!!!! As we stood in line, I kept quizzing Michael, “Is my hair OK? What about my lipgloss? Is the food mess very noticeable?” He assured me that Daryl would not notice the food stains on my shirt and that, yes, I looked good. Good heavens, what would I do without this beautiful man who married me 31 years ago???
Darryl and David Brunetto
Eventually we hear that Daryl’s approaching the room we’re in, and in he walks wearing glasses, a black leather jacket, black shirt, jeans, black boots, and OMG he was HAWT!! HAWT!!HAWT!! My heart was racing and I kept trying to get pictures of him with my iPhone, but people kept getting in the way…
(<—–yes that one).
David made introductions and once again explained “the rules” to us. Oh yeah, David Brunetto sort of reminded me of Dave2. I suppose because he’s tall, dark, and handsome except with curly hair. DUDE, check it, he’s got a lanyard, and it looks like there could be a Bad Monkey on it.
I thought it would never be my turn, but David was careful about moving everyone along quickly.
We walk up to him….AND MY, OH MY, and OMG and all of that…He’s SO tall and handsome! I’m all aquiver with excitement. Michael’s guiding me up to him, and I’m feeling all goofy and high-school-girlish. Duh! We shake hands. I really wanted to plant a big fat kiss on him, but I refrained because I was too skeered and shaking in mah sandals! I just kind of handed him the passes I wanted him to autograph. He signs them, and then I nervously asked, “Um, could you please sign my shirt too?”
He seemed a bit surprised about it, but then I showed him that John had signed the right side of my shirt. As he was getting ready to sign ME, he said (I’m paraphrasing), “You know, just after you met John, his son, Tanner, was out running around playing, and he saw a man collapse. John did CPR and saved the guy. So you’re safe with us!” All the while he’s telling ME this story, I’m ogling him, but hey, at least I remember the story.
I had the most wonderful time meeting these guys. I’ve been “in love” with them since the very early 70’s. They started the concert with “Maneater” promptly at 8 p.m. Chastain Park is in the heart of Buckhead, and there are decibel level laws in place, so there was no need for ear-plugs (yes, I always pack them).
We had great seats, and obviously we were there early. We sat and watched as people sat-up their picnics with tablecloths, candles, wine, booze, and lots of yummeh-smelling food. As 8 p.m. struck, and the band began to play, people continued to “stroll” into the amphitheater lackadasically setting-up their picnics and talking all the while. Michael and I looked at each other like, WTH is up with this shit?
Charlie DeChant played his solo in “Maneater” and I was the first to wOOt, holler, and applaud his performance! Charlie even peered around the speakers to “bow”. Nobody was paying attention — except for us! Why the hell would you pay money to see a band perform and not LISTEN to them? Michael and I were both embarrassed and appalled by the audience at Chastain.
As the evening wore on, the audience seemed more intent on socializing and drinking than enjoying H & O’s performance. Anyone who knows me also knows I enjoy my martinis (or whatever), but this audience was despicable. I’m still pissed that Michael had to ask the people behind us to lower their voices so that we could hear the band.
Atlanta audiences, get your acts together — or the acts won’t want to come back to entertain YOU! I know that we’re reconsidering attending many concerts lined-up this summer. I don’t want to hear some drunk-ass dude behind me sound like a fool when I’ve paid to hear beautiful music.
Even with the drunk-ass dude ruining the concert for us, meeting John and Darryl was a night I will NEVER EVER forget!
Thank you, Michael, for doing this for me, baby. I love you ALWAYS and FOREVER!
