Monday, April 11, 2011

Let's groove tonight, and share the spice of life



Saturday night was like living the All American Rejects concert high all over again: sneaking into the VIP section, though with legitimate reasons this time; having your favorite songs blasted into your ears because of the proximity; taking a photo with them stars; staying up the entire night from elation even when you knew you had to get up early the next day.

But what made the performance more sugar-coated sweet and sinfully indulging was having lead vocalist smiled and looked straight at you as he sang. Good Lord, there was suddenly no oxygen in the air. Then when I thought I recovered, the other vocalist nodded at me in another song. I DIEDED ON THE SPOT.  

(Oh, just so you won’t get confused, I am referring to Earth, Wind and Fire, and ONLY Earth, Wind and Fire. The rest of the acts are simply insignificant.)

I know it wasn’t really professional of me, since I was covering the event under BRATs, thus a representative of the media, but I could NOT stop myself from giggling gleefully when they sang ‘When All the Love Has Gone’, then sort of screeched at the opening vamping of ‘September’. Not to mention me silently mouthing “WE WANT MORE WE WANT MORE WE WANT MORE!!!” along with the crowd at the end of their show, pleading and wishing so hard that when they did came back, I had to clamp my mouth tight to prevent my screaming from being heard. And as soon as it was obvious it was ‘Let’s Groove Tonight’, my heart combusted; it just could not take the heat.

If I must confess, and saying this would risk Ivy’s wrath, but yes, I DID reach out a hand as the singer’s swung low, but it was an instinctive and impulsive reaction, a natural move of a crazed fan. I mean, how could you NOT? But I did try to disguise it, like I was merely stretching my stiff limbs or shoving my camera closer to him, though I doubt it was convincing.

Whatever. It’s not worth my brain cells to fuss over my unprofessionalism. Besides, Earth, Wind and Fire was the only act during which I lost control, sort of.

That is, until the concert was over and we were released and I was FREE to STALK them. I’ve to thank the LRT for this, if the spastic system had not shut down before 1am, I would not have to call and wait for my dad to fetch me, hence would not have the chance to roam about.

I didn’t exactly plan on stalking them at first (I swear!) but as it became apparent that standing stock still in one spot would shine a wrong light on me and give people the assumption of me as a prostitute was dangerous, I wandered around….and around…and around… and VOILA ! There were FIVE LUXURIOUS VANS/MPVs arriving at the backstage entrance. OH SWEET MOTHER OF RAINBOWS AND UNICORNS! Thou shalt lead me to Earth, Wind and Fire!

You know, when I saw them walking out of the backstage one by one and slipping into the cars, I actually freaked out. They were SO GODDAMN CLOSE. But none of them noticed me, till the lead singer got into his seat and was settling down when I bit my cheeks, pinched myself internally and forced my dumb hand to wave and tweaked my muscles to smile.

HE WAVED BACK. And we continued waving till he STEPPED OUT OF THE CAR AND WALKED TOWARDS ME.

HOLY – I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SWEAR ON NOW.

I kind of froze and was gurgling when the girl beside me asked for a photo with him. CHEESES. I quickly fuddled with my battery-drained camera, praying to the Goddess of Mercy for its short revival. It did.

“Can I…can I have a photo with you?”
*Laughs* “Of course you can!”

And when he slung one arm across my shoulder, he might as well have taken a photo with a puddle of water.

“Thank you! I love your music!”
“Thank you!”
“I often play your music in college!” Oh am gee. Can I stop being a freak?!
“Really that’s awesome!”
“Yeah! Thank you again!”

Then I spent a minute Teehee-ing to myself; then five minutes squealing through the phone into Triple K’s ear; then another five texting the entire world about it.

Simmy told me not to die because it would be a waste. Too late. I combusted. I am now a pile of ash.


P.S. Why didn’t that HOT trombonist look my way?!
P.P.S. I would love to put up more photos but blogger's not happy with my cam-whoring. Will stuff them on Facebook (: 

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