I actually did something this Saturday night. My parents and I went to Bass Hall to see the Oak Ridge Boys. My parents had seen them twice in Branson, but they are never there when I get dragged up there. My first record was the one that had "Elvira" on it. I remember. I was like 5 and got a Holly Hobby record player for Christmas. Anyway, I was willing to see, and when I'm willing to see someone my parents are willing to see, we go. It was a good show - anyone with the Ft. Worth Symphony Orchestra is really pretty cool. I mean, how many times have you heard "Elvira" or "Bobby Sue" complete with an orchestra?
When we got there, the Oak Ridge Boys tour bus drove up, and I could see Richard Sterban in the front. With his grown out hair and funky facial hair, I could just tell it was him. So we walked up the block some, and were talking to a woman out near the front door. Richard walked right by us within three feet, but Mom and Dad didn't recognize him because he was walking around in shorts, and with his hair and all, just looked like some long-haired guy walking down the street. They weren't paying attention to Duane Allen outside the bus too. And to think Dad was the one wanting to stand by the bus door and see them come out. Sheesh.
Anyway, after the show, and a frappachino at Starbuck's across the street, we walked back by the bus and William Golden was out by the bus. If I didn't have my picture made with him and get his autograph, I don't think Dad would have ever forgiven me.
I'm not saying I haven't ever tried to get autographs at a Ranger game in my younger days or anything like that, but life as a publicist has made me a little bit immune to really being in awe, you know? I guess taking a Grammy winner through the Chick-fil-a drive thru or a former Miss America to Whataburger to get a drink makes you realize people are just people with big God-given talents. (Of course, my mom was mad at me for not getting Chuck Norris' autograph one day when I was with another author.) All of that isn't to brag, it's just not the big deal to me that it was at one time. I sort of just wanted to leave the guy alone.
However, I did post the picture below on Facebook as soon as I got home to give some people a laugh. When I told Jenny that I was going, she says, "oh my goodness, haven't you gone to see Willie Nelson or something?" "No, Jenny, that was Kenny Rogers. You wouldn't catch me dead seeing Willie Nelson." (*shuttering at the thought*)