Life is Short

I've been planning this post for a while, just went back and re-read the message string that inspired me to begin with, and laughed really hard all over again, which is as good a sign as any that I should share. (The person in question did get fair warning that I would be writing this, although admittedly that was two months ago.)

A long, long time ago, in a Cheeky blog near you, I wrote about a high school classmate who I called "Alex" (not even close to her real name). We're Facebook friends these days, although I have at least seen her in person once since being back in town this summer. 

Alex is a loyal fan of a particular country music superstar (not actually a secret. It's Garth), going to his concerts whenever he's within reasonable driving distance, and occasionally taking a long weekend to see him twice. After her last such long weekend, she posted a fantastic video of Garth seeing her song request sign in the audience and chatting with her for a second, up to and including calling her "Gorgeous" (so at least we know there's nothing wrong with his eyesight) and asking if they'd met before.

So I ooohed and aaahed over the video, as you do, and then a few days later bought my own tickets for an adventure to see that show that I shall not be naming today because I've gushed over it enough for one week. And then I messaged Alex to tell her that I was going to NYC after being inspired by her. She sent back:

Indeed. Sorry about the language; there weren't any G-rated
versions of this image on Google.

And then the conversation went sideways, as conversations that include me are wont to do.

Alex: I hope you have as incredible an experience as I had! And I hope your favorite actor calls you gorgeous and sings your favorite song right to you!
Me: I have a front-row ticket, so maybe he'll wink at me.
Alex: I don't advise bringing a sign with a song request on it. Yes for Garth shows, no for Broadway.
Me:  Okay. Good tip.
Alex: I've never actually seen a Broadway production. I'm just guessing fan-girling with giant neon posterboard is frowned upon.
Me: They'd be like, "We'll get to that one at the end of Act 1 like every other freaking night, lady, now put the sign down!"

And then when I told her this is a great way to get mentioned on my blog again, she offered to sign autographs. So there you have it, everybody who knows who I'm talking about--send autograph requests directly to her Facebook page. (Or just wait until our class reunion in a few weeks.)

Of course, after the show ended, I posted a follow-up on Alex's wall (from inside the Shake Shack where I was re-fueling after an emotionally exhausting evening, natch): "They don't take requests on Broadway, the jerks, but one of my favourite actors remembered my name at stage door so I'm kind of floating around a few feet off the ground." And she agreed that was pretty awesome.

My niece and I rave a lot about fandom friends being fabulous friends, but friends who get what it's like to be a fan, even if it's not of the same thing, are equally to be treasured.