Forget Victoria, what's Paige's secret?

Can't begin to imagine the number of miles that have been logged in the name of Rick Springfield. Let's see... Massapequa Park to Westbury Music Fair (twice, 'cause you have to count Mom going there and standing on line for four hours to get tickets as well as the actual show). Lake Worth to Orlando... Lake Worth to Hollywood... Stuart to North Lauderdale... Newark to Long Island ... not to mention shorter excursions like Jersey City/Newark to New York City.

But now, he's come to see me. Well, as close as we can get television's Dr. Noah Drake to pay a house call -- right down the block.

The day started off with a book signing at Barnes & Noble ... right down the other block. Since I got my copy signed last year, I had something very particular in mind. I wanted Rick to sign his autobiography, but for my longtime idol and inspiration Sharon Wyatt, best known as the irrepressible Tiffany Hill Donely on "General Hospital."

Sharon was diagnosed earlier this year with osteonecrosis. They removed part of her jaw and replaced it with a titanium plate. She will undergo another operation to replace that with part of her hip and the path to recover is long and arduous. So, with the help of my best YouTube buddy Steph (sappy) we've been sending her care packages every month to let her know we're thinking about her.

The brainstorm for this month's package was to get the book personalized for Sharon. Now it sounded great in theory several weeks ago, but as the day approached, I'll admit I started to worry about it a little. If you've ever been to a book signing, you know how fast everything moves. They're trying to get you in and out as quickly as possible. Which is totally understandable with so many people waiting, but not such a good thing when you have a tale to tell.

So it was a big secret -- only a handful of people knew about the plan, because I wasn't I sure I could pull it off to my satisfaction. So thanks to the few who did know for not spilling the beans and especially for supporting the concept.

So you wind up on a line that snakes up and down rows through the store. Mark was busy reading every book he could get his hands on. I concentrated on more lofty pursuits, like turning all the masking tape arrows so it looked like the line was supposed to be going in the opposite direction. What a rebel! It couldn't have made the process more of a mess than it was, believe me.

When it's finally my turn, I have my little spiel planned. I also have a Post-It Note that says "Sharon Wyatt" on the top of my book because they don't want to waste any time with the telling and/or spelling of names.

Spiel: Ask Rick if he heard what Sharon's been going through. (No, he didn't know.) Tell him. (I do ... and that's exactly when we're interrupted by the lady who had been before us, who, despite several warnings that he would only be signing BOOKS at his BOOK SIGNING, took that moment -- mine -- to thrust her CD at him to sign. Which, being a gentleman, he did, while he was reacting with sadness about Sharon's situation.) Ask him to write something special just for her. (He does -- "I miss u" with a heart, as you can see to the right.)

This all happens so quickly. I'd say about 30 seconds into it, it's time for our picture! (I can't really give you anything here, I don't remember it, I was so happy at getting my mission accomplished that it's totally not in my memory banks. But it's a nice pic and I certainly look more alive than when I met him when I was really really sick last October. Mark has a memory that I'll share, though. "He WAS smiling, this is just when the button pressed.")

So it's already been a pretty long day when we get to the State Theater. Can't beat parking five minutes after you've left the house, though. The Squirts, comprised of three members of Rick's backup band were the opening act, and they were very enjoyable with catchy lyrics and good musicianship. They've definitely picked up a trick or three from the boss.

Said boss professed to be exhausted a couple times during the night, but he seemed to tap into some energy reserves, because he was the appealing showman we lie in wait for. If he didn't tell us, we wouldn't have known he was winded by judging the dynamic way he delivered everything from the old chestnuts such as "Affair of the Heart," "Love Is Alright Tonight" and, of course, seminal hit "Jessie's Girl" to the new classics "What's Victoria's Secret?" and "Venus in Overdrive."



"It'salwayssomething" has become a staple for early in the set, and I appreciate it because it seems to be a phrase I repeat on a nightly basis at work. Mark says my loudest scream of the night came for "Jet," a Paul McCartney (& Wings) cover which I love but hadn't seen live yet. Great surprise, we thought that one had been retired.

"I'll Miss That Someday" was downright great. It sounded better than I've ever heard it before. It has special meaning for me now, because I used it as my 1,000th post in my YouTube tribute to Sharon, her "GH" co-star John Reilly and all the wonderful people I've met as a result and so I was sort of seeing in my head while he was performing the song. Got all verkemplt.

Would Rick speak about his DUI arrest or would he sweep it under the proverbial carpet? Well, his only planned reference to it was the first couple of lines to Joe Walsh's "Life's Been Good to Me" -- "My Maserati drives 185, I lost my license now I don't drive."

He was in a bit of a "restless" mood, his word not mine, so there were lots of off-the-cuff riffs and diversions in the set. When a fan gave him an Elvis figurine, he broke into a rollicking (and ironic) version of "Jailhouse Rock." He then asked for a Beatles figurine afterward. It seems like Rick's been watching "Glee," because he mashed up his own "I Get Excited" with The Animals' "House of the Rising Sun." And we got Jimi Hendrix's "Red House," which I love and Mark can't stand.

His guitar technician took it on the chin a couple times as one of Rick's axes after another hit the stage floor. It wasn't bothering one of them in the slightest. I got to the point where I was cringing as he threw them so I could avoid seeing the guitar carnage.



Six kids, ages 9 to 5, came on stage to sing the title line of "Don't Talk to Strangers," one more adorable than the next. But none of us were prepared for what came out of one 6-year-old boy's mouth. I can best describe it as the noise that Daryl Hannah's character makes when Tom asks her what her name is in "Splash." It really knocked the whole audience for a loop when that powerful screech came out of that little body.

Rick made his way into the crowd as he always does for "Human Touch," and as the throngs surged forth to try and pull his arm out of the socket, the only thought that crossed my mind was "Got 'er done at the book signing."

And like he sings, "we all need ... the (documented) human touch."