by Tamadude on 15 Aug 2008 14:40
PT. 5
After sitting on the edge of my seat watching winning people's posts and reactions for a week, I figured the EC taping wasn't in the cards for me and I better just accept it be happy for the others, which I was. But my luck seemed to be waaayy growing, and a few days before I left for New York, I found out that I'd won a ticket to the EC taping after all, due to someone not being able to attend. Wow. I'd never won any kind of draw before, and now all of a sudden I've hit it twice in a week. Something is wrong. I'm never this lucky, so I went out and bought a lotto ticket. I still have bruises from all the pinch marks I've given myself.
I flew all night on the red-eye on the eve of JB2. I didn't sleep well on the plane. I was waaayy too excited. I was on my way to see the final 3 Police performances, I was going to sign the Flag, I was the official Flagbearer, and two of my three tickets I had obtained because my favorite artist had committed the biggest form of enablement and generosity by any rockstar ever. So fuck sleep. I have adrenaline, caffeine, and testosterone reserves to keep me going.
When I landed at JFK, there was a voicemail waiting for me, and 7 texts from Mrs.Tama urging me to call home so she could read an email from Dietmar (Ya, I know, no mobile internet; I'm a technological Flintstone). In previous emails, I had joked with Dietmar about getting backstage at JB2. At least I thought I was joking. Apparently Dietmar didn't. At this point my heart rate is up to about 160 bpms. The voicemail was from Dietmar, and the jist of it was this: "Get ye wookie ass to the vip gates, ASAP." So I grab my shuttle to the hotel, check in, pickup my personalized JB2 shirt from the front desk (which thankfully was delivered on time) designed by the multi-talented Dive (thanks, hon!). I love my shirt.
So I do the 4 S's (shave,shit,shower,shampoo) at mach7, and head out to Jones Beach.......
TBC......
I don't wanna work, I just wanna bang on the drums all day.