This is a bonus musing for all the readers out there. I recently posted a musing about the Bret Michaels show (Bret Michaels: Takes a Licking, Keeps on Rocking), but there was a side musing that was begging to come out.
We sat down in the Franklin Theatre to wait for the show and as always, I am people watching. A rock concert is almost as good of a people-watching place as the Nashville airport. Anyway, I spy this dude a couple of rows down from my seat and he made me do a WTH double take:
What the hell was Bret Michaels doing out in the audience? Why weren’t people mobbing him? Was I the only one who saw him?
I quickly realized that this was some Rock of Love wannabe who was hoping to score with a too-drunk-to-tell-it-isn’t-Bret middle aged soccer mom. Then I was on a mission. Snag a picture of him clandestinely for this very blog that I am writing. This was the best shot I could get:
My first theory was shot when I noticed Mr. Wannabe had a buxom blonde with him. Then I noticed that every five minutes he would stand up, turn around, and scan the crowd like he was looking for someone. At times he looked like Leonardo on the front of that damn boat that sank. I don’t think he ever found what he was looking for in the crowd.
This whole episode got me wondering – why? Was he not hugged enough as a child? Was he in that much need of attention? I mean, I understand teeny bopper girls wanting to dress like Miley (well, I really don’t, but play along) or young guys adopting the look of the day – denim, leather, cut-out sweatshirts (think Mike Reno in Loverboy). But the key word is young, not 30-something. Isn’t that a little too old? I bet he lives at home, drives his mom’s mini-van to the shows, and works at the local Best Buy so he can get discounts on sub-woofers for Mom’s van.
But perhaps his purpose was fulfilled – occupy my time and mind while waiting on the show. If so, well done Mr. Wannabe, well done.