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.

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Dear Stewart @copelandmusic

Good morning, sir! How are you?

I realize it's been a couple of weeks since I saw you and your wonderful opera, The Tell-Tale Heart, in Long Beach without much commentary from me (though I did tweet some things live from the event, which maybe you didn't see? I only say that because you didn't comment, and I hope that your lack of comment is only because you were inundated with tweets and mine were inadvertently missed; I hope that's what happened, and not that I was skipped on purpose because someone told you or you have otherwise ascertained that I am a weirdo?), and I thought I'd better get back over here and fix that, or else my one reader (not you, apparently) would get bored and leave, if they haven't already.

Anyway! That was a fun night! My sister came down from Culver City to babysit, and Patrick and I got sort of dressed up and headed over to Atlantic. We found parking on a beautiful residential street and took a stroll over to the Expo Center. I've driven by there lots of times but never been inside before. It's a huge space! Since we had been in a bit of a rush to get out the door at home, I had to use the restroom... which otherwise wouldn't really be a detail I'd share with you, but I have to say, I was very much impressed by those temporary facilities. Even the girl at the front desk who told me where it was was impressed. She said, "It's nicer than the one at my house!" I've never been to her house... but it was nicer than the one at my house. I wondered what, if anything, you had to do with that?

I had kind of hoped to run into you in the parking lot on my way out there to the restroom, but it didn't happen.

Also, those of you paying attention might remember that I had suggested that Patrick and I might ride our bikes but that didn't happen either. I had decided to wear a skirt, for one thing (which, if it had been the right skirt, wouldn't necessarily have prevented me from riding my bike), and then I didn't get a chance to ride it before hand to see what the route should be or where we could safely lock up our bikes... and then I had also hoped that your people might have gotten in touch with me to offer us a ride.

None of that happened. Anyone with a firmer grip on reality would've known that you weren't going to call us but you know? I had hope. Not much, but a little. Is it bad to admit that? Well. I'm sure I've said stupider things in this space, and anyway, a person without dreams is a couch.

Anyway, we had great seats, as it turned out, and because we arrived early, you were literally about 20 feet away from us, eating your dinner. At first I thought that was weird - a little privacy for you might've been nice, no? - but I was grateful, because how often do you get to watch the object of your totally-harmless-obsession eat what looked like some sort of noodles? (Who would that person be for you? And, come on: NOODLES!) Patrick asked if I wanted to go say hi (surely hoping I would decide against it), and I did consider it... but I also felt that bugging you mid-dinner was beneath even me. And you had someone with you, and for some reason, embarrassing myself in front of you alone seems like something I could totally do... but in front of the young woman you had with you, I was suddenly struck with something that could only be called pride.

Or possibly embarrassment.
Or possibly common sense.

Anyway, I satisfied myself with some full-on blatant starting, which you're probably used to, and so you hopefully didn't notice.

The pre-opera talk with Andreas Mitisek was fun, and you are an entertaining speaker (something you probably already know). I particularly enjoyed the way you answered the lady's question, "Are you related to Aaron Copland?" I hoped she asked that, knowing that the names were spelled differently, with some sort of comical intentions, because otherwise, she clearly wasn't paying attention to who you are. I loved that you claimed him as a distant relative. I love Copland (his Duo for flute and piano is a favorite, obviously) too.

The other thing that happened that was kind of exciting is, my friend, who has season tickets, ended up sitting right next to me (I do not have season tickets, but that could change). What are the chances of that happening? It was fun to know someone there and to visit with her before the show started.

The opera was great. We both liked it a lot, and Patrick liked it so much, he surprised me by wanting to see more operas. I've been wanting to go to more live music and/or dance (I am really obsessed with the ballet right now) but if he wants opera, I'm going to see if we can make that happen. My friends with the season tickets had given me an extra ticket to see another production of the LB Opera about a month ago, and that production (which all of a sudden I can't remember the name of) had a flutist in the orchestra who was really amazing, so I had been hoping your opera might've had a flute part so that I could a) hear how you hear us flutists and b) hear that lovely woman playing again, but I was disappointed to see... no flutist.

What's up with that, Stewart? You know that flutists and drummers have a connection, right? I can prove it, if you'd like to have a private conversation about it. That sounds like I'm trying to be sexy about it, but really, I just have private things to say about that particular thing. Anyway, I really think you should work on a flute + percussion piece (for me?). I need a reason to practice other than I have to keep up with my friends in flute choir. I would totally rise to the occasion of playing your music... or at least I would try my hardest and fail spectacularly. That too might be kind of fun to see/hear.

(Come on, if that's not selling you on the idea, I don't know what will!*)

Love you,
Irene

*Humor?

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