2004-04-12 - 12:17 a.m. - Part III: Damien 4/2/04

April 2nd – let me off this flipping roller coaster

My alarm woke me up. I showered, dried myself, and then proceeded to wet my face again with my tears. I made it to school and talked with no one until one of my co-workers asked me in the stockroom what was wrong. I just started to cry and then told her what had happened. Another co-worker emailed me about something and said hope all is fine. I emailed her back, told her it was not, and then gave her the details. I knew she would understand because she had lost a kitten in a tragic accident many years ago. She came right down to my room and let me cry on her shoulder. Finally, I composed myself enough to get through the rest of my plan period, and then I had to face the kids. It was actually therapeutic doing work and getting my mind off of the events.

I met my friends for coffee after work, and they asked me if I wanted to talk about it. Emotionally I was spent and said, no – not now. Let me tell you about the concert instead.

Back at home, the tears started all over again. There was no cute little white thing greeting me at my door anymore. No more purring or rubbing against my leg when I came in. It was awful.

I barely ate and left to pick up my friend, Peg, for yet another concert. I spent $25 on the ticket, and it would be good to get out of the house – I just hate it here now. I got to my friend’s house, and Kate asked me what was wrong. The tears started once again. I just sobbed and sobbed, and both she and Peg were so supportive.

OK – let’s go. I had brought cookies for hospitality like the night before, but given that this show was at a different venue, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get them in. Well, once I cleared the metal detector, the security guy says to me, "you can’t bring those in!" I explained that they were for the bands, but he said I needed some authorization to bring them in. "Where can I put them for now?" "Leave them here by the window – I’ll be standing here all night." So I went to try to find out how on earth I’d get authorization to bring them in – perhaps the tour manager. I found out from a bartender that I had to find Josh, the stage manager, who could be anywhere in the theater. "And what does this Josh look like?" I asked. He’s tall with blonde hair – you can’t miss him. I informed Peg that I might be a while looking for Josh, and she said no problem.

I went back downstairs to the entry level where people were filing in. Around the corner is a diner and another bar. I walked in there and saw people who seemed to be roadies. I’ll listen to see if I pick up an Irish accent. I glanced over at this one guy – "oh my…is it him?" I thought. I didn’t want to be rude and stare – it just had to be him. I saw him just last fall and…yes – it’s him. Oh my – I have to talk with him.

"Excuse me", I asked, "are you Damien Rice?"

"Yes", he replied.

"Hi, my name is Teop". (I said my real name, of course). "Welcome to Portland. I had emailed your site as well as the Frames; I had baked some cookies to offer as hospitality but the security wouldn’t let me bring them in. I know you can’t go over there and get them, but is there someone in your group that can?"

He must have thought I was completely nuts. But he paused for a moment and graciously answered, "my tour manager could do it".

"Great. Oh, and I want to thank you for being so supportive of Josh Ritter and his music. I know he opened up for you in the UK and it’s great you’re giving him all that exposure because now he’s getting better known here. I just saw him perform last night"

"Josh was here last night?"

"Yes, but at the Aladdin".

Damien turned to his tour manager who was now sitting down eating and asked about Josh’s tour. He manager knew he had been here last night and started describing the theater to Damien since Damien had played there last Fall. "You know – the one with the really nice dressing room upstairs".

They started having their own little conversation and I felt a bit awkward standing there, but I was not done yet! Damien did mention the cookies to the tour manager and the manager said they’d pick them up after the show. Now I know he said it with all sincerity, but I know if the shoes were reversed, I’d never remember the silly cookies after the show. Nevertheless, I just said "great" or something to that effect.

"Damien – could you sign something for me? I didn’t bring your CD with me, which I love by the way, but I have my ticket stub."

He examined it for a minute and then drew a little drawing, wrote "thanks" and signed his name.

"Thanks so much, Damien". I gave him a hug and said have a great show.

Any sane person would have just walked away and have been happy with the autographed ticket. But did I mention that I’m not always completely sane when it comes to these things? The "voice" in my head screamed, "You have your camera – don’t walk away now!!!!! Ask him for a photo. You’ll regret it later if you don’t!!!

The other "voice" is saying, "just leave him alone, you fool! He’s not like Josh – he’s more reserved and quiet – he probably hates having his picture taken - especially with people he doesn’t know – nutty people who bug him about stupid cookies being confiscated at the door!"

But we all know how I don’t like to live with any regrets, so all sanity aside, I turned and said, "excuse me, Damien. Could I bother you for a photo?"

He was probably thinking, "haven’t you bothered me enough already?"

Ahhhh – but ya gotta love the Irish. "Sure". A guy (who turned out to be his soundboard man) offered to take the photo. Damien put his arm around me and we had a nice picture taken of us. "Thank you, Damien."

While I still felt a bit weighted down by my sorrow, lightness had returned to my step – I was floating off the ground once again – just not quite as high this time.

Autograph and photo aside, my mission was not accomplished yet. I returned to the security guy, and when there was a brief lull in the line, I showed him my ticket and said, "I just spoke with Damien who signed my ticket, AND I spoke with the tour manager who’s sitting right over there. Can I bring them the cookies now??"

The security guy picked up the bags of cookies but hesitated. He showed them to his supervisor working in the next line. "No way can those be brought in!" "But she talked with the band…" The lines were both quite busy at this point – certainly working in my favor. "Oh – alright – bring them in". "Thanks".

I returned to the dining area, and I knew Damien had already headed backstage, but I was thinking his tour manager would still be finishing dinner; however, he, too, was gone. "Great – I’ve got the cookies in and now I’ve got no one to give them to!"

There was another table of guys who certainly didn’t look like they just strolled in off the streets of downtown Portland. Again, I tried to pick up some Irish accents, but couldn’t quite hear them. Given I’ve already pretty much made a fool of myself, what more do I have to lose?

"Excuse me – are you with the band?"

"Yes and no".

Typical Irish answer I thought to myself! "Are you with The Frames?"

"Yes."

"Oh, good, because I made these cookies for both bands, actually, to offer you some hospitality."

They smiled and thanked me. "Cheers" , I heard one say. I wish I had gotten a better look at them – I don’t know if some of the actual band members were there – I think one was, but given I had never seen them before, I couldn’t be sure. The guy who answered me first did turn out to be their lead roadie who would pass the band equipment during their set, so at least some Irish guys got the homemade cookies.

Last Fall when I had seen Damien perform, he had mentioned that since they had really partied it up the night before in Seattle, they’d have a more mellow evening that night in Portland. Well, it was a little too mellow for me and my eyelids were fighting to stay open since it was a school night and was quite tired. I almost didn’t buy a ticket for this show because of that, but given that The Frames were opening and I had heard good things about them, I felt I needed to check them out.

Well I’m so glad I did. Not only were the Frames great, but Damien was ROCKING!!!! Despite a few rude people in the audience who proceeded to talk during the whole show – even after being told "shut the F*&K up" by other audience members numerous of times, it was a great show. Damien even joked about the talkers and said, "They probably came here asking, who is this Damien Rice guy? I heard he does Elvis covers".

He then broke out and started to play, "Suspicious Minds" while his band looked on with expressions of both amusement and surprise. When Damien finished and the audience broke out into applause and laughter, he said in his best Southern drawl Elvis imitation, "thank you very much".

Later on he said he had walked up in the balcony area (where we were sitting) during the Frames’ performance and stated that it would be easy to feel disconnected if your line of vision to the stage was blocked. He suggested the people move off to the sides a bit where they could see better and feel like they were part of it more. Nevertheless, the talkers kept at it, so I did my best to block it out (which Damien must have as well) and enjoyed the show in spite of them. Vyvienne Long played a solo version of "Smells Like Teen Spirit" on her cello which was very cool, and that Lisa Hannigan has a voice like an angel – WOW!!! It sent chills up my spine – especially during "Older Chests". Damien said he wrote that in a friend’s apartment while staring out the window at this really old church and how things just aren’t built that way anymore - something so old and yet so magnificent. People took time to do those things – now a days we just seem to gather things – like books on shelves, and if you were to ask what your favorite line was in any of those books, the people probably couldn’t answer. It was something to that effect anyway…

I also loved "Cannonball" – how he wrote it for when you’re trying to act all cool around someone you like, but end up saying something really stupid and making you feel like you just want to stick your foot up your arse.

The music was very healing for my soul - my evening that started out with me in tears at my friend’s house turned a bit magical once again – the good karma had returned.

Thank you my friends, Kate and Peg.

And thank you, Damien.

30-something - 2005-03-01
the holding back the the flow of tears - 2005-02-20
song survey - 2005-02-15
song for the day...or perhaps the year... - 2005-01-25
something new - 2005-01-24
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