I Kissed Billy Joel

It was after the success of "Piano Man" he was hocking "Streetlife Serenade." I had a copy of "Cold Spring Harbor" which proves I was a big fan. He was playing at the Academy of Music, in Philadelphia. Great acoustics, these days only used for more high end entertainment. It's the Opera house used in "The Age of Innocence".

Janis Ian was the opening act, who I also liked a great deal. I loved her songs "At Seventeen"and "Society's Child". The thing I remember most from the concert is the anticipation. Once he came on the stage in his velveteen jacket he wore on his album covers, I remember little else. The encores had been played, and we all slowly headed out the doors to our vehicles.

It was the night of Thanksgiving and it was cold, I had left my family dinner to see Billy Joel live, with no regrets.

My date was 6'3". (this comes in handy later on) As we walked by the side street of the theater toward the lot were our car was parked, I notice the door that was clearly marked with the words "back stage" just like in a movie.
We stood for a moment, looked at each other, and although we really didn't believe that entertainers would actually leave through that door, we decided to stick around. Well, low and behold, out came Janis Ian - she's as big as me (under 5') we joked about it, I told her she's brilliant and I asked for her autograph. She giggled and said "you don't want my autograph, you want the guy in there". That's when my tall friend peeked into the narrow very high windows and saw Billy Joel with about four girls surrounding him. 

Next time that big locked stage door opened we did something crazy. We walked right it.

There I was standing behind Billy Joel (who isn't too tall himself) I was so close I was breathing on his black velveteen jacket. I could smell him. He WAS real. But I stood quietly. While the other girls talked, I listening. Then one girl gave him a rose and he kissed her on the cheek. I made my move....I tapped on his velveteen shoulder, he turned to look at me and I said: "Could I have one of those?"

He said: "Sure" just like that. He kissed me on the lips.

HISTORY WAS MADE! I KISSED BILLY JOEL! ACTUALLY BILLY JOEL KISSED ME.

I was in heaven for weeks.
Two things plagued me for a few years after that.
1. If I had not been with my boyfriend would I have a better story?
2. How could I forget about the camera I had stashed in my coat pocket? 

I Almost Saw Paul McCartney

When I watched the Beatles consecutive appearances on The Ed Sullivan Show I was ten. When they left the stage after the last song on the last night, a few tears rolled down my cheek and my Dad made fun of me.

I had nightmares and would sleep with a nightlight on. My Mom was a waitress and sometimes she worked at night. When I woke up in the morning I'd find things she brought home for me sitting on the floor by my nightlight. Beatles magazines, Packs of gum that contained Beatles cards, Beatles buttons, a 45rpm.

I favored Paul, he was cute and he seemed nice, my second fave of the fab four was George, he was cute too and he seemed like a bit of a loner (always went for the loners). John always seemed too full of himself and Ringo just a bit silly. But they were a group and that's usually the way I thought of them.

I never saw the Beatles live, but I did see The Dave Clark Five at the age of eleven. I went to concerts, not as many as some peers, but enough. It was exciting when I was there, but at this age it's mostly just a blur. I still enjoy any kind of live music and will occasionally attend a concert out of nostalgia. I tend to avoid crowds nowadays.

Paul McCartney played in Philadelphia a few years ago, I thought about going, then forgot about it. The concert came and went and I was sad I hadn't even tried to get tickets. It may have been my last chance.

Regret sucks. I let it go.

Last summer he returned. Tickets were exorbitant and I think they sold out rather quickly. The idea of seeing Sir Paul left my brain, but still unbeknownst to me the idea never left my heart.

A couple of days before the concert a friend called and asked what I was doing on a particular night. I rambled on, I don't remember what I said. Then I heard my friend say; "You're going to see Paul McCartney". To say that I was dumbfounded would have been an understatement.

Somebody couldn't attend due to a business trip, so they asked my friend, my friend already saw McCartney, thought I would want the ticket, blah,blah,blah. Long story short, the friend of the friend of the friend went. Not me. It doesn't matter.

For twenty four hours I thought I might see Paul McCartney.
My heart was happy.

Just like when my Dad made fun of me for crying when the Beatles played their last song on Ed Sullivan, but my Mom brought me trinkets to keep the happy feeling alive.

In this instance too,
it most surely was
the thought that counts.