by Darcie | February 26th, 2009
I’m a big American Idol fan. I’ve watched every season. Even the first one when Ryan had that dorky sidekick host. Ugh. I’m so glad they put the kibosh on that.
In spite of all my watching, I’m not a big voter. Of the hundreds of contestants who’ve made it to the voting stage I’ve only cast votes for two of them: David Archuleta and Taylor Hicks.
A couple of years ago when my dialing fingers were frantically punching Taylor’s number into my keypad I never would have imagined that on February 25th, 2009 I’d be sitting in a shabby studio in downtown Tucson listening to him perform acoustically in an intimate setting.
It was cool. Uber cool even.
He was incredibly gracious and totally down to earth. While he maybe wasn’t as effervescent in studio as he was on AI, he was every bit as great a performer. And, needless to say, I’m every bit as big a fan as I was then. Maybe more.
How could I not be though? His voice is unique and soulful. His mannerisms, quirky and charming. And when it came time for him to take questions from the audience he totally wowed me by saying that God was his inspiration. Only he didn’t say it in that gratuitous Hollywood way. He humbly and sincerely gave God the glory before sheepishly giving nod to Ray Charles for teaching him the crazy dance moves. Totally endearing don’t you think?
After the performance he even took the time to sign autographs and pose for pictures. While I waited for my turn I worked hard on composure because I didn’t want to get up there and flail like the amateurs before me.
Watching them I learned a few things not to do.
#1. Don’t tell him that I voted for him hundreds of times.
#2. Don’t gush about “respecting his work” and “admiring so many things about him.”
#3. Don’t overstay my allotted time and force the handlers to shoosh me along.
#4. Don’t–under any circumstances–tell him to “keep on keepin’ on man.” Hello? 1970 calling.
When my turn came around I said a friendly, if not a little too enthusiastic, “hi.”
And then I gave him a copy of his CD and asked him to sign it.
He didn’t even have to ask who he should make it out to (Gram) because I was so well prepared.
We even had a little conversation about Gram and how old she was.
And then he graciously agreed to a photo.
Clearly he’s got his photo persona down because even when Jeff took forever to figure out the logistics of the camera he remained cool and collected.
I, on the other hand, was a tad mortified seeing as how I was inches from his face with his arm around my waist. Waiting. And waiting. And waiting a little more.
But then the camera clicked and voila, I’d made it through.
It wasn’t until we were walking away down the street that I wondered if I’d sounded gushy when I said, “It was very nice to meet you.”
I mean, I didn’t really meet him technically.
I more watched him play. And got an autograph. And a lengthy photo.
I don’t know. Maybe I gushed.
Whatever.
I totally have the chance to redeem myself on Saturday when we go see him in Grease. Not that I could do much gushing from our seats in the nosebleed section.
Sigh.
http://blog.suchthespot.com/2009/02/soul-patrol/