October 17, 2003:
4:45 P.M. My mother, youngest sister Michelle, and I set off on what would be the best concert I will have ever seen in my life. My mother got directions from a coworker on how to get to Poughkeepsie, but failed to mention in which direction we should be going as far as 84/684 is concerned. I told her to stay on 84, and soon enough we were at Exit 13 to Poughkeepsie, NY. Getting onto rt. 9, we had all intentions on going to the Galleria Mall which is located within the heart of Poughkeepsie, however, we had much difficulty in finding it. Once we did find it, however, we decided not to go and that we would find a place around the venue to eat. Besides, my anticipation was poking at me. The show was only in a few more hours.
After driving for 20 minutes and finally figuring out the directions we were given, my heart stopped, as we turned the corner and I saw the glowing theatre marquee. I had so much adrenaline, I didn't know what to do with myself. My mother tried to calm me and my sister down and found a parking lot just adjacent to the building itself. "Four dollars to park? Can't beat that!" my mother chimed happily.
We pulled into our parking spot and I got out of the car. Knowing that this was almost the back of the building, I couldn't resist turning around and exploring the area. My sister and I turned the corner, and literally had to catch our breaths. It was here. Very real. Right in front of us within walking distance. Behold, the tour bus!
We noticed the window was opened, and the engine was semi-running (it was a sound that could and couldn't have been) -- and both of us boldly walked over. We were both kind of afraid to approach the door, nor did we want to be chased away for being "nosy", so my sister and I just gawked at the 2 vehicles. I finally mustered the courage to call his name, half-heartedly expecting a response. I was right. He probably wasn't in there anyway and was rehearsing in the building. It was only just around 6-ish. So just in case he was within one of those buses, I gave a little cheer, as did my sister. I honestly think I would've fainted if he came out to say hello, just because of the fact that my heart was racing. I was only several feet away from a living legend and the excitement officially kicked into full gear.
Michelle and I were blasted back into reality when my mother came to round us up. Apparently we had spent 10 minutes just standing there inbetween the two buses, staring and talking about how cool it would be if he came out, or if we were invited in. Mom said we had better grab something to eat because we obviously weren't going to have enough time if we hung around any longer. So we walked away from the buses, knowing that our night adventure had just begun.
Unfortunately, no one told us that this section of Poughkeepsie was a business district, and EVERYTHING was closed. Really. It was a ghost town for the most part, as my mother dragged us up and down the same block 5 times making sure that everything was closed. We spotted a bodega-type store, and I said, "Let's just get sandwiches. We can then walk back and eat walking down the street like real Brooklynites do." It seemed like a good idea, but mom didn't like the look of the guys hanging out in front of the store, so we turned around once more. We bumped into the first sign of life on the street, and she told us there was a GREAT Chinese food place around the corner, and "They make a mean steamed vegetable dumplings." She was very nice and we were very grateful for that little piece of information, since it looked like every business owner in the area had DIED.
Walking around the corner, my mother says to us, "Oh look! Let's see if the pizza place is open!" Well, let me point out that this "Brother's Pizza" is actually part of a huge painted mural on the sides of the building. Gotta love Mom.
We ate our Chinese food, finally and happily, and managed to finish our dinner in 15 minutes (we've had extensive training). Rushing back to the venue, we hung out until the doors opened. Michelle and I immediately walked up to the table full of merch, and I bought 2 T-shirts, the Rutland Isles CD, and 2 programs -- all for 75 bucks. Not bad, I say! It was a lot cheaper buying from his own tour table than if I would've gone online to purchase these very same items (not that I would have an easy time locating it in the first place). Michelle bought a shirt, a program and a calendar (Why don't you make HATS??!? I'd SOOOO sport an Eric Idle hat 24/7!). Finally we walked in to our seats and waited for the show to begin.
Michelle and I had a ball singing to the songs they had playing, such as Bohemian Rhapsody, 5000 miles, and Crocodile Rock. The people in front of us didn't like it, but we didn't care. I think they just encouraged us to sing louder in the end.
Since they days of yore, I was always cursed to have a really good seat, and then some 6 foot tall bugger sits in front of me. Now, I'm five foot three. HOW THE HELL AM I GONNA SEE OVER YOUR BADLY COMB-OVERED HEAD, PAL??!??! They should make rules that if you're really tall, you should either stand or sit in the back behind us short and stout people. I'm tired of this, and I'm sure people in my position are too.
Finally the house lights dim, and we're greeted by the venue's manager, telling us all about the great things happening in the upcoming weeks and yada yada yada. Bugger off, I want to see Eric. He finally goes off and music is played at full blast with no one on stage. As to not ruin any surprises, I won't disclose any sort of information about specifics of the tour, as it's not fair to Eric and all his crew members who work hard to provide this wonderfully brilliant show. I almost died when I saw him offstage behind the curtains dancing to the music (I sat all the way on the left side). He walked out and we all went CRAZY (erm, at least I did. I was screaming so much I didn't take into account anyone's hearing ability around me being in danger). He was absolutely GREAT! Jokes were made, songs were sung, and sing-along opportunities were also available. There was a FANTASTIC rant that Peter makes about foliage -- which was my mother's personal favorite. She spent all the next day in short spurts of spontaneous laughter. During intermission, my sister and I wrote little notes to Eric, in which I wrote my website address and invited him over, and my sister is still on a streak about getting Michael Palin to write back to her, so she wrote Eric to tell Mike to respond. My mother gave us this idea, and we jumped at the chance. I'm so happy that I got to share something I adore with a passion with my mother who enjoyed every moment of the show.
After the encore, my sister and I ran out to the lobby, because we knew he was signing autographs. We waited and waited in line, but soon enough, we were inching closer and closer at a very quick pace. My mother grabbed the camera from Michelle and managed a couple of "Paparazzi" shots. So my sister stole the camera back and reprimanded my mother for such shitty pix (but nice try nonetheless). Closer and closer we got to meeting him, and with every step, Michelle took a new picture.
My heart was now racing a mile a minute. I had a whole list of things I wanted to say, but my mind had drawn a blank! I was now literally inches away from Idle, my idol, and my I.Q. diminished to that of a house fly. The people in front of me turned and walked away as he faced me. I put on my best smile, held out my hand to shake his and clearly proclaimed how he is my favorite Python. He smiled and thanked me, as I quickly pulled out my programs for him to sign while orally giving him my website address (stupid stupid stupid... but I did write it and put it into the encore bucket). He asked me my name, which I promptly gave, and he signed it to me. The next program I had him sign Stan a.k.a. Loretta *BIG SMILE*. Then I said to him that I had a friend online named Diane who owns a site dedicated to him and she was going to see him at his show in San Luis Obispo. He smiled and told me to tell her to drop on by and say hello. (Love ya Chris!!! - Di) Before leaving, I asked him if I could take a picture with him, for memories and to put on my website to say:
HELL YEAH!!!
Loved Peter Crabbe's performance, by the way. He was extremely talented.
My sister was up next and she asked him to sign the program to her and if he could ask Mike to write her back. So on her autographed program, it says "Mike, write back". LOL She also got a picture with him before leaving.
I waved and told the guys to have a great tour and they thanked me. I don't know, it seemed right to say at the time. I was still shaking with excitement when I left, and the smile I left with stayed plastered to my face.
After trying several motels to stay at for the night because my mother is petrified of driving in the dark, we decided to stop making stops and just go all the way home. The first place was run by an old Chinese couple who proceeded to talk to me through their locked glass door. "This is definitely not working..." I thought to myself. The next place said they didn't have vacancy. Screw you man. The final place wanted one hundred dollars for the night, and mom was like "Ummm.. no. F*@#$% youse ALL, I'm goin HOME!!" For the first time, I understood how a celebrity on tour must feel. After a great show like that, all you want to do is go home and sleep in a familiar bed in a familiar surrounding. I felt kinda weird with the thought of not driving home (at first), because all I wanted to do was just that, and go home. To my bed. Under my covers accompanied by my cat. I think I can ease up on celebrities now when I get upset they're not touring for a long time or if they're not coming to my area. I really don't blame them now. God bless 'em for having the courage to go on the road.
It was much quicker getting back home, despite the rain. We made the correct turn towards Rt. 202 finally, and the roads became familiar once again. We were going home.
I relived the experience again in my dreams and was upset when I was woken up the next morning to return to my normal life doing my normal job in the same bloody routine. Oh well -- one thing's for sure, though- my life is never dull and routine as long as Monty Python is in my life, and I will never EVER forget that night! Thank you so much, Eric!!!
