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Authors: Donna DeMaio Hunt

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Reaching Out to the Stars (9 page)

BOOK: Reaching Out to the Stars
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Take control of your own destiny
.

Understand yourself in order to better understand others
.

Visualize it
.

Want it more than anything
.

Xcellerate your efforts
.

You are unique of all Gods creations, nothing can replace YOU
.

Zero in on your target and go for it
.

By Wanda Carter Hope

I sealed the letter in an envelope and paper-clipped it to the inside of a purple YMCA brochure that provided some information to help with his plan for YMCAs around the world to give children with disabilities the same opportunities as regular education children. How mint of me to think of that, huh?

On July 29th, four days after my thirty-first birthday, Bryce and I drove to Mohegan Sun to meet up with Aunt Carol and Uncle Tony. We met them in the parking garage and Aunt Carol giggled and said, “Look at you all dressed up for him.” I wasn’t dressed glamorously but I did want to look my best that night. I wore a fitted shirt with jeans and just a little bit of make up because sometimes less is more.

Bryce and Uncle Tony planned on making a night of it in the casino while Aunt Carol and I went to the show. Beforehand, we had a nice dinner. However, the anticipation of the show made it hard for me to enjoy much of a meal. When Aunt Carol and I left Bryce and Uncle Tony behind at the restaurant as a start to guys’ night out, we made our way to the arena for our girls’ night out.

After passing through security, we made our way to the souvenir line which was incredibly long. Standing in line gave us the opportunity to check out other fans that were also waiting. It was hard not to notice one woman standing next to me who was old enough to be my mother. She had on these homemade earrings with my idol’s face on them. She had on a t-shirt from a previous concert and a homemade bag with all kinds of pictures. After getting through the crowd, I bought a bucket hat, a license plate and a program.

We then made our way to our seats. I was looking everywhere for the bodyguard who had made himself visible at the last two shows.

I was thinking that I could possibly slip him my letter. It was absolutely hopeless and the place was absolutely huge, bigger than I had pictured. I was ready to pocket the letter and call it quits. Then, Aunt Carol asked one of the ushers if it would be possible to get a letter to my idol, something that I never would have done on my own. Thank you, Aunt Carol. He was very anxious to bring us back to security.

A young girl took the brochure from me and took the letter and felt it. She looked at me and said, “No anthrax, right?” I was shocked and told her no. I guess they can never be too careful, though. She said that my letter would definitely get to him. I was still doubtful but I figured it was either that or bring the letter home with me, after I spent so much time and effort writing.

As we walked to our seats, I got really excited because we were really close. Behind us, there were two more women about my mother’s age, with the homemade bags. Another woman sat behind us with her husband, who slept through the entire show.

The show was again, excellent, but there was one drawback. Wouldn’t it figure that the largest woman sat right in front of me? Every time my idol made it over to our side of the stage, she would jump up screaming and waving while I, five foot nothing, could see not a thing. Lucky for me, she and her friend left after intermission.

When the show came to an end and we were leaving the arena, Aunt Carol had commented jokingly to the woman behind us about her husband sleeping through the whole show. I guess she had dragged him there as I had dragged Bryce so many times. She was just happy that he took her.

Although the show was fantastic, this was the show that left me the most depressed. Not only did I realize that I forgot to enclose a check in my letter as a contribution to his new foundation, which was part of my slick plan, but I was really counting on a response this time. At the time, I believed that my letter was not the usual fan letter and I thought he may think it was special. I guess every fan wants to think that his or her letter is more special than all the rest. Again, how totally awesome of me for being a complete jackass?

I began to feel very angry, for absolutely no reason, but I could not help the way that I was feeling. Then the questions in my head started. Did he get it? Was it just another fan letter to him? Did he appreciate it? Is he just too busy to respond to fan letters? Am I an idiot?

Again, I vented to both Elizabeth and Maria about the situation and they told me not to take it personally. I was so sad and I was not even sure that I wanted to attend the next show in Boston. I did not know if I should just leave it alone. Or, if I did attend the show in Boston, should I try again?

Elizabeth reassured me that he did receive it and appreciated it, but no matter how he felt when he read it, he probably would not respond because he receives hundreds of letters and has no clue who I am. I knew deep down that was all true. I did not want to hear this because I had never wanted to be realistic about it. I just wanted this dream I had to come true even if I knew it was impossible. I felt that if I hoped enough that my fantasy would become a reality. Who is to say that it could never happen?

I decided to go to the next show, enjoy it and stop thinking so irrationally. I think I had started to actually irritate myself with my unrealistic expectations and stupidity.

Chapter 8

A Third Attempt

In getting ready to attend what I decided would be my last show for a while, I wondered if I should leave well enough alone. Or, should I make one more attempt to connect with my idol. If nothing else, at least I could forward my contribution.

Giving a donation was something that I definitely planned to do. Frankly, I knew if the check cleared, then I finally could no longer make excuses for my idol not responding because he did not get the letter. At least I would know that he was not responding because either he would not or could not for the most obvious of reasons.

On Sunday morning, August 28th, Bryce drove me to Maria’s house in Abington. She would be attending the concert with me. After Bryce dropped me off, we hung out for a while before we went to the show. I remember it being very uncomfortable because she was having some marital problems and her husband for some reason blamed me because he knew she talked to me about things. I never quite understood that. Maria did talk to me about quite a bit and I knew that she was not happy. As I always listened and was always there for her, I never gave her a lot of advice because truthfully, she never took it. She always did what she wanted, which I respect. The only advice I remember giving her that she ever took was to try to talk about things and to try counseling because they had two children together. Unfortunately, it did not work.

We got ready to go and left early because with Boston’s Big Dig, there was no telling how long it would take us to get there. We had no problems and ended up getting there two hours before the doors even opened.

We walked to a small restaurant and we were seated on the back deck overlooking the Boston Harbor. As it should have been very relaxing, I was experiencing a lot of pre-show jitters and anxiety.

You would think that I was the one who was performing. We finally decided to make our way down to the Pavilion.

Once again, I found myself looking at the hundreds of fans that were waiting outside, hoping it would not rain. We walked by one girl who was around the age of sixteen. She was holding several signs. As she noticed us trying to read what her signs said, she yelled at us, “I have no shame!” I thought to myself, oh my. We were absolutely speechless. We looked at each other and started to laugh. We were not judging her but just trying to read what her signs said and she totally freaked out. Love and luck to the Obsessive Irrational Fan. It is when I experience this type of fan that I do not feel so bad about my own craziness. Later, we saw her down by the front row. Now, why am I not surprised?

Before leaving for the show, I had foolishly decided to make a third attempt. I had purchased a small gift for my idol, a miniature book with words of inspiration from famous people and an astrology kit tied together with a yellow ribbon. Inside the small book was my check with the following note:

Dear Idol
,

Thank you for all of the great music in the last two years. You have brought excitement to my life as I’m sure your fans bring excitement into yours
.

I left you a letter inside a purple YMCA brochure on July 29th when you performed at Mohegan Sun and realized that I forgot to enclose my contribution to your foundation. Enclosed is my donation
.

Here are some things to keep you busy for the rest of your tour
.

I know that it is impossible for you to respond to your fans but I hope you get this and I hope that you got my letter
.

Good luck on the rest of your tour. I am looking forward to your upcoming CD and Christmas tour
.

We approached a girl wearing a blue Bank of America Pavilion shirt sitting in a circular booth. She looked really nice and I was looking for someone who seemed approachable. I asked her who I could give my gift to so that I could get it to my idol. I knew it was possible because of my last experience at Mohegan Sun with Aunt Carol. The girl told me to come around to the door where there was another lady who did not look so friendly. She said in a very panicky tone, “Please do not enter the booth,” and was all freaked out, you know, because I am so scary. Anyway, she started yelling at me and telling me that there was no way to get anything to him and told me to go away. I did not know if I was going to cry or punch her, but with my excellent ability to control my explosiveness, I remained calm, and was determined to find someone else to help me.

In a large way, I was a little hesitant to approach anyone with the way I was just treated by the scary monster lady. Then, a nice gentleman with a maroon shirt labeled STAFF pointed me in the right direction.

I handed my gift to a young girl with blonde hair sitting at the entrance of the gate for all those lucky fans that actually had backstage passes. She was very nice and handed it off to a guy wearing a Boston Red Sox shirt who brought it backstage. After seeing the Sox shirt, being the big Sox fans that Bryce and I are, in a weird way, I had a sense that I could trust him. I was very happy and then I started thinking back on what had happened to me a few moments earlier at the circular booth with the witch lady and thought to myself, what a huge bitch. There was a big piece of me that wanted to go back there just to let her know that I got my gift to him, to slap a big L on her forehead and say how do you like those apples!

The show was as enjoyable as it could be since I already saw the show once before. As I am always up for a show with my idol, just to know that I am in the same vicinity as him, I do not really know how groupies can go from show to show to watch the same performance over and over.

Well, this was it for me. I knew that I needed to come to grips with the fact that there would really never be any contact between myself and my idol. At least I knew that if the check cleared that the book had been opened and it got to the right place. To me, it would be at least some sort of closure which would be the beginning to an end.

On September 13th, twelve days after the tour ended, the check did clear. I, of course, have not gotten a response and still remain with many unanswered questions that frequently enter my mind. I guess in playing the role of the fan, I will never really know the truths I am looking for regarding stardom and as far as expectations, what is unreasonable. I knew that someday, I would be able to make peace with my situation and I would better accept that my wish upon this star would never be granted.

BOOK: Reaching Out to the Stars
10.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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