What the hell is this?

I Can't Stand [Meeting] You is a collection of all the ridiculous things I've written to and about drummer and composer Stewart Copeland.

I actually did meet him for about five crazy seconds in 2007, again for a few exciting moments in August 2009, and my most recent (and most thrilling!) encounter took place in October 2009, where I proved myself capable of being, yet again, a total dork in the man's presence.

I can't believe what I get up to. And neither should you.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Making plans for Stewart

Okay, so tomorrow, when I see Stewart again at the Amoeba booksigning? Rather than relying on my ability to come up with something cute and brilliant (on the contrary: cute and brilliant are not mutually exclusive) at the spur of the moment (on the spur of the moment?), I have devised a plan. This is my plan. It's a stupid plan, and possibly a waste of money, and I'll probably chicken out, but I had to come up with something more clever than "Wow" and drooling all over myself in front of him.
  • I bought a "passport" (good for four admissions to any show at City Garage Theatre) and attached it to a postcard advertising the next show.
  • I'm going to give it to him, and say the following (or something resembling the following, or barring my ability to do that, at least something intelligible that is related to the following... or barring my ability to do even that, at least something intelligible and/or recognizable as the English language):
"I don't know how you feel about accepting gifts from strangers [fans?], but I wanted to invite you to theater where I work. I really think you'd enjoy it. Our next show opens Friday, November 6..."

I don't know why I feel the need to say the first bit about accepting gifts - either he does or he doesn't, it has nothing to do with me. Probably what will happen is, he'll say "thanks," sign my book, and send me on my merry way. But of course I've envisioned all sorts of fantasy follow-up sentences which will never see the light of day, I'm sure: "No, I'm not an actor, I'm a flutist, actually. I've been in two shows at City Garage but lately I've been the sound/lighting operator..." "Oh? You're working on a piece for flute and percussion? I would love to take a look at it..." "Well, I'll be working so I can't sit with you in the audience... what? You'd like to watch the show from the booth with me...?" "Dinner? Why no, I, I mean, we, don't have dinner plans, do we, Patrick? Patrick? Oh, where has he gone..." "I play in a flute choir. Oh, you've never heard a flute choir? Please, we'd love to have you at our little concert..."

I also included a business card with my cellphone number, email addresses, and blog URLs. Hey, what the hell, right? I mean, he may take one look at me and go, "Ah ha! We meet again! I've been reading your blog, and I love it!" Or? Security will usher me out a side door into the alley where they will rough me up and leave me crouched in a ball, sobbing into my copy of "Strange Things Happen."

God. I am so lame.

And for those of you paying attention, yes, I have realized that my obsession with Stewart Copeland and this meeting in particular is probably a metaphor for my views on relationships and is probably exhibiting my ability to act like a 15 year old well into my 30s in a not-very flattering way. Or maybe it's flattering, but not a good display of maturity. Do we really have to discuss it? Anyway, so be it. Maturity is overrated.

Hey! If for some reason Stewart refuses my awesome gift ("The Trojan Women" opens November 6, 2009, and from everything I've been hearing, looks to be another great show), I will award it to the first person to leave a comment to this post!

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