Thursday, December 9, 2010

The time I almost met and fell in love with matt nathanson: PART TWO

Last night I attended a charity event for the Gibson Music Foundation. I stood next to a guy named Trevor. When I Trevor told me he was a songwriter I looked down to see if he was wearing (gasp) Chuck taylors. Thankfully, no Rock n' Roll shoes to be found. I asked Trevor if he was a better songwriter than Matt Nathanson. He Laughed. I didn't laugh. I told him my theory on judging all music WT (worse than) or BT (better than) Matt Nathanson. (sadly, no one actually gets scored BT). Anyways, I realized that when I had stood there talking to Trevor for about 20 minutes about Matt Nathanson that I am a) crazy stalker super fan or b)in need of a new hobby that doesn't involve stalking Matt Nathanson.

I realized that I completely forgot to tell you about almost meeting and falling in love with Matt Nathanson...again. In reference to my earlier blog this year about the airport-almost-meeting.

So...

One Upon a time...

Matt Nathanson was playing a show. In LA. I live in LA. I put it in my calender and turned down all work, events, plans so that my night would be perfectly clear. I got dressed in my best red bellbottoms and my lucky red beret. I went to the show. It was packed so I moved slowly inching my way to the front of the crowd, even my calves were sweating. I had never seen MN live in concert and I felt like a druggie taking heroin for the first time. I knew it was going to be good. So good.

So, I stood at the front of the pack of people and talked incessantly about MN. Then I twitter stalked him. I could smell what could only be the musk of Matt Nathanson billowing from whatever backstage green room he was warming up in. We were in the same place, at the same time, again. It was destiny.

When Matt appeared on stage I realized that I could do nothing but sing at the top of my lungs and look in any direction but his. What if our eyes met? What if he noticed me? What if I was standing next to his wife and she punched me in the face? So...I did what any supposed to be mature but is totally still 12 years old would do. I stared at his feet. The whole time. Matt Nathanson, buy the way, even has EPIC feet.

Somewhere into the set he began playing a song, and I began clapping. Suddenly, Matt stopped playing, looked right in my red beret direction and called me out. I was, the only one...clapping. I had not noticed, and needless to say I have a very muscular full throttle clap. FULLOUT! FEARLESS! Suddenly the entire audience looked my way. Every person in the room was staring at my try hard red beret, my bright red bellbottoms and my beet red face.

What happened next in my head was...

"good clapping, and you happen to be the most beautiful beret wearing person I have seen today...would you like to come and sing a duet with me and share this one tiny little microphone with my mouth?" -mn

and then I would leap onto stage, glitter would begin to fall from the sky, Matt Nathanson would grow 4 feet taller and not be wearing chuck taylors and would turn to me and say...I wrote this song about you, and not my wife that I am 100% in love with...



and then we would sing, and dance, and tittie pop and the whole club would turn into a giant candle lit ballroom and all of a sudden I would be wearing a evening gown and have a respectable up-do and perfect skin, make-up and my eyes would be blue. MN would be in a suit and be throwing rose petals and unreleased cd tracks in my direction. We would drink diet coke all night and have thumb wars and talking about the reasons why being Matt Nathanson was so awesome.

Sadly what really happened was...

I was that weird girl. The one who clapped too loud. Matt went back to singing and I went back to staring at his feet. I left the show and twittered if he was going to be coming out to meet people + sign autographs. I stood at the front door of the club for 10 minutes seeing if he might respond. In those ten minutes I was so scared that I might actually MEET MN that my heart starting avoiding beating and I couldn't breathe. I completely terrified. So, I did what any respectable totally in control of her own life but melts into a puddle when faced with cute singer-songwriters wearing chuck taylors would do. I walked out of the door. I ran away. I kept my disappointment in the back pocket of my red bellbottoms. Once again, I had almost met and fell deeply in love with Matt Nathanson. Almost.

The moral of this story is that Matt Nathanson is epic and I am a nerd. The end.