I Had a Mid-life Crisis and Brought the Kids!

[Lilrock]

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

[English-lion]

Ha ha I think it's only fitting now that the last installment be on August 7

[luddite lady]

Part 36

The restaurant was already full of fans. On the bar’s TV screens, instead of a baseball game, there were old Police videos playing. The sign out the front, normally used to display the daily specials, announced “Welcome Police Fans!” Susan and Sect 404 had done a fantastic job of finding a place for us and bracing the staff for the onslaught. Some people were eating at tables, others were at the bar, while still others were socializing in any available open space. It felt like a very casual wedding reception. There was even a receiving line of sorts. Kellie had the Flag at a central table where people could get reacquainted with the nasty green thing, or in some cases, meet it face to cloth for the first time. Nutters who had already signed it searched for their names and recalled fond moments from past concerts. New signatures were still being added, crammed into the remaining bits of green. Fresh memories were being forged as old ones were recounted. Next to Kellie, several people were handing out various swag. This stuff was way better than any silly wedding bonbonnière I’ve ever got. There were Bella’s faux all access passes, Gina’s glow in the dark bracelets in red, blue, yellow, and of course, green. I forget who it was, but somebody was giving out blinking guitar pins, and Pluto was distributing his perennial CHA wrist bands. Charlie Arnold had even set up a kind of registration desk with pens and specially designed stick-on name tags. On the left third of the tag Charlie had printed the sc.net logo in green while the rest was blank, leaving ample space to write both a real name and a user name.
While my children and I waited for a table to become available, I mingled with the crowd and met many Nutters. I felt rather ridiculous introducing myself as luddite lady, but I had little choice since few people knew my true name and fewer still knew what I looked like. I had the pleasure of meeting so many members of the forum that afternoon. If I try to name them all, I’m sure to leave out some and include others I didn’t actually meet. Nonetheless, I’ll give it a shot. (I never got around to writing in my journal about this day, so my account is presently fuelled only by eleven month old memories and two glasses of red wine.)
First though, I should mention that I re-encountered many folks who I had met at Jones Beach, Saratoga, Buffalo or Ottawa. Upon seeing each other, we’d act like we had been next door neighbours for the last five years. We’d exchange quick hugs and comments like, “Hi! It’s me again!” It seems an odd way to act after having crossed grand distances to be together, but there were so many new people yet to meet in such limited time. For instance, I met Shyvixen, Indy Girl, njperry, Susan, Bella, EQ, his friend, Vermont Fan, Lil’ Rock, E, DAO and animal. I had my first chance to see Moeskido and wish him a happy birthday in person. I finally got to meet my fellow Torontonians, Bongo Boy and Ska Man. I had a great two way conversation with Tamadude, my first since my one-sided screeching at Jones Beach. I chatted a little with the soft-spoken, lovely Textothogrady and her dad. (I miss her, by the way. Are you out there, girl?) And I met Hanaha, which was a special but jarring treat. She bore a striking and spooky resemblance to my mother circa 1968, as seen in beach photos and my earliest memories. Like my mom, Hanah was delightful and gorgeous, but the English accent really threw me off. I subconsciously corrected my posture every time I was near Hanah because my mom always hated when I slouched.
All this time, my daughters stood around looking awkward and occasionally told me they were hungry. I tried to be motherly and concerned, but this was my moment. Whenever I felt really guilty about it, I thought back to the Jonas Brothers concert, and reminded myself that I had earned this. The Boy, on the other hand, was a little in awe. With me as his guide and censor, he sometimes follows the antics on the forum and has his favourite avatars and post authors. Seeing these people in the flesh was akin to rubbing elbows with cartoon characters come to life. Like me, he recognized a few Nutters from previously viewed pictures and videos.
“Oh my gosh! It’s Gina Super Cat!” he cooed.
The next minute he nudged me to ask, “Is that Dive Mistress?”
A table in a large booth became free for us. As we ate, the two spare spots on the bench were occupied by a rotating roster of Nutters who were kind enough to sit with us and chat a bit. I remember well fine conversations with Maud, Larissa, Lynne and Schmaffy. One booth occupied by inhabitants from three different continents. Not bad.

[luddite lady]

Part 37

I was about to nip back to the hotel with my kids when Kellie stood on a chair near the front of the restaurant, and started to holler and wave the Flag about. People looked at her, cheered and went back to their conversations. This happened several times. I surmised that Kellie was trying to get everyone’s attention in order to reveal the Flag’s plans for the evening and announce the multi-flag bearer initiative. It seemed most others figured she was just being a party girl. From what I know of her, I find Kellie is not all that comfortable being the centre of attention, and this was just killing her. One of the funniest memories I have of that evening came from watching Kellie’s over the top behaviour on the chair and her increasing frustration at her inability to get us to quiet down and listen. Hands on hips and glowering, she flung the Flag over her shoulder as if it were a work out towel. Nothing. She wore the Flag like a mini-cape. Nothing. Charlie, Nancy and a few others standing near Kellie also began yelling at the crowd. From the back of the room, I bellowed too, availing myself of my loudest teacher/track coach voice. (It’s loud!) Finally, Kellie garnered our attention and launched into her explanation. Still, she was interrupted many times by the rowdy revellers, prolonging her seemingly unwanted moment in the spotlight. Maud captured most of this on video, and I believe it is available in the MSG smug mug gallery and in a deeply buried thread devoted to images from the final gig. EQ or another resident archaeologist, would you mind wielding your spade and digging up a link when you get time?
Kellie explained that all of sc.net would be the flag bearers that night and she produced the paper junior flags for the crowd to see. This was met with loud applause. She went on to say that the hope was to get Flag senior on the stage at some point in the evening. Again, the room went wild, particularly when Kellie clarified that the hope was coming primarily from Stewart. The paper flags were distributed and I was given an envelope full of them to hand out later to any Nutters in section 119 who weren’t in attendance at Fat Annie’s.
Time was ticking down and I still had to get my kids back to the hotel and settled in. We excused ourselves and made the return trek, keeping a brisk New Yorker pace. Despite the huge plates of food my children had just devoured, they began their usual chorus of “I’m hungry!” before we could reach the hotel. Fortunately, there was a deli right across the street from where we were staying. The three of them met little resistance from me as they relieved the place of a large quantity of its junkiest snack foods, and my wallet of a significant amount of money.
Walking through the lobby with his grocery bag of treats, The Boy asked, “So, it’s okay to use the gym in the basement, right Mom?”
“And the computer?” piped in Sporterella.
“I suppose so.” I wasn’t sure how much havoc my kids were going to wreak in the hotel alone. But I was pretty certain that nothing they did would make the people at the front desk any more surly towards us than they already were.
Before I left I begged my kids not to wait up for me this time. I knew this was like asking Conroy not to wooo hooo at a concert, but at least I’m on record as trying. Kisses and cautions were exchanged and I was out the door, free as a bird. A rather ridiculous looking bird accessorized with glow in the dark bracelets, a bright yellow CHA wrist band, a flashing guitar pin, the world’s ugliest green evening purse, and in contradiction to the over all look, a large business envelope held protectively to the chest. Now, you’d think the front desk folks would have at least cracked a smile as this buffoonish woman rushed past and offered them an extremely cheery good evening. But this was New York and they had a reputation to uphold. Besides, they had seen just about everything before. However, they weren’t going to see what I was about to witness. And because of that, I felt a little sorry for them and very fortunate for myself.

[Maud138]

Illustration

http://www.flickr.com/photos/14853982@N ... 647202232/

[policefan]

However, they weren’t going to see what I was about to witness.

Nor, did I, thus I am very excited about your next chapter!

[DirtyMartini]

It's like watching my own personal Rashomon.

Tick tock, llady. Bring on the band!

[shyvixen]

I'm flattered that you remember meeting me amidst all the wackiness. I wish we could have chatted more.

Good memories, though!

[luddite lady]

Part 39

As I walked back to Madison Square Garden, an envelop of Flag Juniors in hand, I had time to ponder the odd series of events that had come about thanks to one small piece of green fabric. Although there were many moments of drama, this past year and a bit of flag antics had come off so well. Kellie had entrusted the thing with practical strangers as it toured the globe. Nobody had stolen it, defaced it or damaged it. Even more miraculously, nobody had allowed it to be stolen, defaced or damaged by a third party unaware of its significance to the Nutters and Stewart. I didn’t get through a single post-gig gathering without spilling a little beer or ketchup on myself. Yet The Flag, under our collective watch, survived unscathed through concerts, get-togethers, parties and countless hours of travelling. As I thought about this unlikely fact, I remembered an expression Jose coined following his stint as flag bearer: “with the complicity of angels”. The Flag’s survival was due in great part to the complicity of a host of guardian angels, most with slightly eschewed hallos and ruffled wing feathers, but angels nonetheless. We may not be able to all dance together on a head of a pin, but we have all danced together, albeit vicariously, at Police concerts in stadiums, amphitheatres and arenas around the world every time one of us bopped up and down waving The Flag at the drummer.
When I reached the MSG area there was still a good crowd in Fat Annie’s. I had time to slip back in the restaurant for one more beer and a few more quality Nutter moments. One topic of discussion was how to best conceal my envelop of flags. Wearing the flags under the front of my shirt was no good. The baby bump looked more like a baby parcel, making me wish my own children had been delivered by that means. I tried tucking the edge of the envelop into my pant waist and covering it with the back of my shirt, but that worked no better. This way the envelop did bump out to the point that I looked like I suffered from a dislocated hunch back. Next I concealed it under my pant leg by wrapping it around my calf and stuffing the edge into my tube sock to hold it in place. But that was too gangster for me. Besides, it chaffed. Laurie said she was going to just walk in with her envelop in her hand. Reluctantly, I agreed that for once the least ridiculous route was likely the most feasible.
I walked over to MSG with Schmaffy and her non-Nutter cousin who was also attending the show. Talking a mile a minute and whooping occasionally with laughter, Schmaffy introduced us. I only learned this woman’s name and relation to Schmaffy. The cousin, however, was told all about Madame, Le Drapeau vert, both story and board game, and Shady Maples, the fictitious rest home Schmaffy and I were going to book ourselves into after the show. To get this all across properly would have taken a great deal of time to explain and even more to absorb. But the walk to the concert was short. Schmaffy’s cousin seemed only to register that this luddite person was dangerously insane and any association with her was likely contributing to what appeared to be Schmaffy’s deteriorating mental health. The cousin smiled and nodded indulgently at Schmaffy while avoiding eye contact with me and trying to increase the distance between us on the crowded sidewalk. When she had a chance to speak, she quickly changed the subject, “So, how’s work?”
By then we were going up the escalators at MSG and about to pass through security. I began again to obsess about my flags. But then I saw Laurie walk in just in front of us. Nobody said anything to her about the envelop in her hand. So, I confidently walked in the same way with the same hassle-free result. In fact, I don’t recall them even looking into my purse. We were in, and soon Schmaffy and I found our seats in the first row of Section 119. When I saw with my own eyes how close I was to the stage and what an excellent view I had of the drum kit, a smile spread across my face. The smile remained there for the rest of the night.

[Schmaffy]

*dying*

I have absolutely not one iota of recollection of that whole encounter.

The talking a mile a minute and whooping I totally believe, though. How ghastly.

[luddite lady]

[quote="Schmaffy"]*dying*

I have absolutely not one iota of recollection of that whole encounter.

The talking a mile a minute and whooping I totally believe, though. How ghastly. [/quote]

Your lack of memory might have something to do with your pre-show beverage consumption. That would also explain your verbosity. I remember this stuff because I still had relatively little alcohol in my system at this point. Once I was away from my kids, however, things got blurry pretty quickly.

[Schmaffy]

[quote="luddite lady"]Your lack of memory might have something to do with your pre-show beverage consumption. That would also explain your verbosity.[/quote]

Thanks for trying to soften the harsh blow of reality, LL - but I was pretty damn close to stone cold sober before the show. And I actually AM that verbose in normal life (as I'm sure several here will be willing to emphatically attest).

I'm sticking with the "having the best damn time of my entire fucking life" as my excuse.

[Lynne]

You know, I didn't think this story could get any better, but it just grows, and grows!!! Love it!

[Charliearnoid]

Ha! I'm loving this thread.

Kellie had appointed me flaggie-distributor crewchief, and I rememeber walking around the back of MSG by "Stewarts sections" to make sure that my fellow flag minions were getting out the flaggies to the Faithful. I must have looked official with all my Police swag, a nifty faux backstage pass, and my manilla envelope and clipboard. When I went back down to the floor, the security person took one look at me and made a hole for me, assuming that I was connected to the band somehow.

That was kinda cool. I shoulda' seen if it would have worked at the snake pit!

[Lilrock]

Part 39

When I saw with my own eyes how close I was to the stage and what an excellent view I had of the drum kit, a smile spread across my face. The smile remained there for the rest of the night.

Yep! The Huge Jackass Grin!!! Everytime I was blessed enough to go see the boys, I was pleasantly afflicted with it! Lovin' your yarn!!!