Foos (and an Angel) in the outfield

Some concerts everything works out perfectly and it's heaven on Earth. This was not one of those days. But having said that, at the end of the day, I was at a Foo Fighters concert. And at least I knew it.

I have the strangest luck (or lack of it) when it comes to the Foos. Many know of the quest to get the Record Store Day release "Songs from the Laundry Room" -- finally in my possession thanks to the Foos Popup Store that sprung up in New York City (far away from any signs of life) before the show. But of course, my luck is nothing compared to Dave Grohl's. The man broke his leg two songs into a show in Sweden. A couple of weeks ago, a severe electric storm forced the Foos to stop playing in Quebec.

So I should have suspected something when I set out for Citi Field. It was a beautiful day, a real rarity among these parts since it's been a rainy summer. Poster tube in hand, I set out early for the bus-train- train trek to Queens. Getting off the train, I walked halfway around the outside of the stadium to get to Liam, who was in a bar with the tickets. He had asked someone who came in with a show poster where he got it and was told "the rotunda." Since security said I couldn't go in and come back out again, I walked back around the stadium to get to the rotunda. Where I was told that I couldn't go in for a poster and come back out again. So ... back around the stadium again to go in at the general admission entrance and get on the merch line.

It's finally my turn on line, and the woman asks me what I want. And I open my mouth to say the poster and a guy who wasn't in line calls to her on the other side of the table. She goes to him and sells him ... the last poster. Then she comes back to me and asks what I wanted and I say "what you just sold him." She tells me to go to the stand on the other side of general admission, which I do, and they don't have any.

So now I'm pissed, cause 1.) I went early to get the poster, 2.) went inside instead of hanging at the bar to get said poster, 3.) I'll be carrying around an empty poster tube for the whole day for nothing and 4.) it's a good two hours before the Foos will start.

I considered giving my tube to someone who actually got a poster, I'm not sure why I didn't at that point. But I'm wandering around aimlessly, with a pissed and dejected look on my face. And that's when Angel P., a Mets' customer service rep, asked me what was wrong. So I tell him the sob story. And he tells me to go up the stairs to the concourse and check out the stand up there.

So I did that, and there's a reallllly long line, a couple dozen people. I see the poster. I even see the previous day's one, which frankly is even nicer. But I'm not holding out any lost hope. I just wait and watch. And then it's my turn, and wow, they're still there. So I order two of the day's poster (one for Liam, still getting his drink on) and the previous day's one. And that one is the last one they have! Luck's on my side this time. Which ticked off the guy next to me, who was going to ask for it. Sorry, I say, but it already happened to me today. Plus that dude kinda looked like the one who had just beat me out, so I was twice as happy about it.

Now I've got the posters and a nice pina colada. I stop to tell Angel P. the story and he's good at his job, because he really seems interested/ happy about my success. Royal Blood opens the show, but I'm busy eating my Nathan's and drinking my Hurricane to notice anything but that they're very loud. I do have a nice conversation with a couple -- the guy was wearing an Austin City Limits Music Festival shirt -- and we talk about Beck and Pearl Jam. He tells me that people in that city say they live in Austin, not Texas. Great line.

I go over to the left side of the stage (which is set up in the outfield with the infield covered and blocked off), and it's much less crowded because the entrance is on the other side. But when Liam and friends come in, they stay on the crowded side, and I go over there 'cause who wants to watch a cool show by themselves?

The Foos open the show with "Everlong," which I thought would be the kind of song that makes everyone stop in their tracks and just watch. It's an easy favorite to have, very emotional, and now it reminds me of the last David Letterman show as well as a tale I heard online of a serviceman who hadn't seen his baby since she was born. When he got to the airport and finally saw her, "Everlong" was playing over the PA system. Just perfect.

Anyway, the trek of people never stopped. It didn't matter what they played! "Monkey Wrench," "Learn to Fly," "Big Me," "My Hero," "All My Life" ... whatever it was, they kept walking. Maybe they were there to go to the Shake Shack or buy one of the filet mignon sandwiches. I just couldn't figure it out. Every now I would yell something sarcastic at them, I don't remember any of the better lines.

But Dave and the Foos were having a good time, whether it was their own material ("Congregation" from the Emmy-nominated "Sonic Highways" sounds spectacular in the open air) or covers (Kiss' "Detroit Rock City," Thin Lizzy's "Jailbreak" and Alice Cooper's "School's Out). I'm truly glad they forsook the Rush cover of "Tom Sawyer," blech!!!

And somewhere along the way, it was easy to forget the crowds continually streaming in front of us by dancing -- the covers of Queen's "Under Pressure" and Tom Petty's "Breakdown" were great jams. Oh, I remember one joke! When "Under Pressure" started, Liam and I joked that those filing past recognized that -- "Yeah, it's Vanilla Ice! Rad, it's "Ice Ice Baby"!!

I also felt better when I started using my elbows while dancing. So I wasn't just getting bumped around, I was doing some knocking myself.

As you can see in the videos, Dave was rocking the "throne" he created while he was high on Oxycontin post-leg surgery. It really is some spectacle, with lasers (that's how you spell "lasers," Dave!) and special lighting and, best of all, enables Dave to keep on rocking.

Dave and Taylor Hawkins (ever the showman behind the kit) and company went out of their minds when they were joined on stage by a couple of their own heroes -- guitarist Dr. Know and bassist Darryl Jenifer -- from the punk band Bad Brains. They rocked out on "How Low Can a Punk Get" and "The Regulator."

They broke Citi Field curfew, of course, and wrapped up with "This Is a Call" (it was the first Foos record I ever got, a 12-inch single) and "Best of You."

Then I left Liam and friends in the dust, because I had to rush to get the train back to the train to get home. I shouldn't have bothered. Because I wound up sitting on the platform waiting for 20 minutes (after a lot of pushing and shoving through the gate for the privilege). And when that train got to Penn Station, another hour wait for the last train of the night to New Brunswick.

That train was one slow moving drunk train, I gotta tell you. Not only that, but only four cars were open. Love that, big long train, with the Foo crowd and more heading home and not everyone gets a seat. I had one, next to a smelly guy who I think stole his ticket. Anyway, finally get to my stop and ... all the cabs are gone, because the train was late and the drivers thought it already came through. Luckily, I flagged one down on the street and finally got to put my poster tube down after 12 hours.

I was under pressure ... and I was about to break ... down ... but all my life ... I'll remember being part of that ... congregation.

Majoring in music appreciation

It's two completely different sides of the musical spectrum. On the one hand, the 70th birthday celebrations for Eric Clapton at Madison Square Garden. And on the other, the reigning Tony Award-winning musical "A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder."

Clapton kicked off the weekend at Madison Square Garden. He rolls through the setlist with some familiar bluesy favorites, such as "Key to the Highway" and "Hoochie Coochie Man." The first of the evening's guests, John Mayer, joins for "Pretending," and although his performance is entirely perfunctory, the rest of E.C.'s assemble still makes it a winner.

For a while the highlight is "Driftin'," dedicated to Ben E. King (who had passed away the previous day and who Eric once said wrote the most beautiful love song ever written in "Stand by Me.") This is delivered during the sit-down acoustic portion of the evening and every note sounds like it is driftin' up to the fallen King.

For this show, we had front-row seats ... of the third section from the stage. But for me, it was great, because no one was standing in my way preventing me from seeing the performers and I also got to move around to the music. It took about three or four songs for me to loosen the knots in my neck, but I really started to get into a solid hippie, trippy vibe around "Can't Find My Way Home." It was great to have uber-bassist Nathan East back with E.C. again in general, but particularly on this song.

And speaking of people who were back, the highlight of the first night was, without a doubt, Derek Trucks and Doyle Bramhall II joining Clapton and crew for "Let It Rain." One of the greatest musical regrets I harbor is missing the tour in which Derek and Doyle backed up E.C., prodding him to heights he hadn't reached for a while on material he had long since packed away. So for the few minutes we got of "Let It Rain," I was in high heaven.

Less successfully, Jimmie Vaughan had come out a few songs before to play "Before You Accuse Me," and while it was great to see him, the collaboration just didn't soar the same way. Jimmie's solo was a little stilted, and E.C., being the reflective mirror he tends to be, almost echoed the same thing back.

At a very early point in the evening, Mark and I started recognizing songs before they fully kicked in. With "Can't Find My Way Home," the crowd sort of doesn't get it until the full band kicks into gear, while both of us can recognize it in a couple of bass notes. "I Shot the Sheriff" meanders around for a while until the riff that signals the start brings most of the arena into the fold. I think two or three minutes prior to that point, I yelled, "SPOILER ALERT! It's 'I Shot the Sheriff'!"

That song, by the way, is one I never listen to home, but hang on every note during a live show. As opposed to say "Wonderful Tonight," which has become my group's signal to call a friend not at the show. Mainly it's a "Network Time Killer," as they used to say on David Letterman's "Late Night" show. I took the joke one step further and called my friend, Susan, who was actually at the same show and sitting closer at the stage. The things we do to make ourselves laugh.

One of the biggest surprises was "Tears in Heaven." It's Eric's biggest "hit" of all time, but he stopped playing it for a long while. I was pretty peeved to see people heading to the bathroom during it. When it first debuted in concert in the early '90s, well, it was like everyone in the arena held their breath, knowing that the song was for his son, Conor, who had died tragically at 4 1/2 years old. They cheered in support after every verse, every chorus. Now, it was just another song. That took some of the air out of my tires.

I'm not sure playing everyone's favorite "Layla" acoustically (as on the multi-platinum "Unplugged" album) was the best way to mark the milestone birthday, for we all kinda wanted to rock out, but it was nicely done. The same could be said for keyboardist Paul Carrack's version of "You Are So Beautiful." And though we pleaded for a change in the slow blues number, it still was "Little Queen of Spades," which offers Clapton and crew the chance to solo so beautifully, but has lost its zing from being in the rotation for a few years now.

The whole show had a very laidback vibe, which irked some of my friends, but which I rather enjoyed as just a way to chill out and rid myself of earthly concerns. And so it was pretty easy for me to jam my way through "Crossroads" and "Cocaine" to the encore of "High Time We Went," with all the guest stars coming back for one more solo in celebration of Clapton.

While I would hardly consider this a true retrospective a career that has gone so many places, the man throws a nice party.

Thanks to the Rangers' continuing playoff run (insert every expletive you can think of here, both for me as a Devils fan and just one of the people whose schedule was upended), the second show was changed to Sunday night. So after working Saturday, I was ready for more. But before the concert, we decided to talk a good friend into seeing a Broadway show we thought he would enjoy ... and that we were dying (so to speak) to see again, namely "A Gentlemen's Guide to Love and Murder."

Mark and I were blown away by it last year. I bought tickets the night it won the Tony (but before it actually did), so we got pretty good seats and had a great time. Now with co-lead Bryce Pinkham and some of the other original cast members gone and one of the members of the ensemble, Jeff Kready, now in the protagonist's role, it would be the same but different. Of course, Jefferson Mays, the Tony-nominated star who somehow manages to pull off eight distinct roles in the production, remained the primary reason to go at all.

So after some leg twisting, we got Steve to go, and we set out for the Sunday matinee ahead of the second Clapton show. I thought it might take a while for him to get into it since he's one of many in the world who aren't interested in seeing a Broadway musical, but he was cackling with laughter almost from the outset. Because this ain't your grandma's Broadway musical. It's full of snarkiness and malevolence, but retains a great sense of humor about itself.

Since that was a matinee show and they had to do it all over again at 8 p.m., I thought the actors probably wouldn't be hanging out with the fans at the stage door. But since everyone else probably thought the same thing, the crowd was actually rather small and we did stay for a bit to see who we could see. One of the first ones out was Jeff Kready (who Mark actually liked better than Pinkham in the co-lead role).

I moved to the end of the line, a dangerous spot if an actor decides to cut and run after a couple of autographs, but a great spot for taking pictures together if he is so inclined. And Jeff was so gracious with everyone, it's really heartening to see someone move up from an ensemble role in the show to the lynchpin that holds everything together.

I told him we had seen the show twice, I don't know why I was surprised by his surprised reaction to that, but he was very grateful to have heard that. My big question for him was about whether it got confusing when getting directions, between Jeff and Jefferson. And he said, "Not really, cause he's always Jefferson." And I quipped, "Or Mr. Mays," and he repeated "Or Mr. Mays" with a laugh.

We waited some more, got to see some of the other cast members, including the hilarious Carole Shelley, who puts the show in off-kilter mode right from the get-go as Miss Shingle. She didn't stop, but she did wave to all of us. I wondered if Jefferson Mays would even come out the door, after all, it's a rigorous day for him without fan dwellers.

But he did, and I almost lost my shit. I don't curse a lot in my blog, but I was about five seconds away from breaking into tears when he started down the line. I was in my choice position again at the end. That really turned out in my favor, when Mark took the picture to end all pictures -- me and Jefferson, with a couple of his characters photo-bombing on the wall behind us.

I know my babblings included telling him that "Kind Hearts and Coronets" was my favorite movie, and I had been apprehensive about the show the first time I saw it, but that I loved it so much and that he was so brilliant. (Another one taken aback at hearing we'd seen it more than once.) Jefferson told me that he originally saw the movie when he was 8 years old, and it made him want to be an actor.

My question for him was about those rapid-fire costume and character changes he undergoes, sometimes having to be back on stage within a minute. He said at present there were four people who helped him with costume, "one for each limb." He's funny without a script too.

I was so overwhelmed with how nice they were that I actually had to sit down to catch my breath. Then we headed for Guy Fieri's American Kitchen and Bar, which was unsummarily ripped in its New York Times review, thus sealing Mark's interest in going to see what the fuss was about. The maitre d' asked if we had reservations and I mumbled, "we have serious reservations." The food was remarkably unspectacular, but my Pina Colada Royale and our waitress, Olivia, were amazing.

And then we were back at the Garden for the second Clapton show. Now mind you, by this time, I have had about four hours sleep five nights in a row, my work schedule is out of kilter and I'm reaching the point of total exhaustion. Which explains why I kept falling asleep during songs, having vivid nightmares and waking up within the same song. In the '60s, you needed drugs to have that kind of reaction at a show.

I was able to take notice of the fact that overall, the show was better and everything sounded spectacular. But I would say I enjoyed the first one more, because I got to stand and dance and I was really feeling it. The second one, we were in the front row in an upper section, and if I got up to dance there for any prolonged amount of time, there's a chance I would have toppled over the railing in my state.

This time, knowing that "Let It Rain" was going to bring down the house, they moved it to the end and did away with "Cocaine." And the rest was pretty much the same, only better and yet not quite the same for me. We did the terribly un-rock-and-roll-like thing of heading home immediately afterward, which was necessary but a bummer, because part of the magic of all of it will always be hanging out with friends after the show. So I didn't get to say a final farewell to Smoosan and Steve and Willie and Bruce and Renee and the gang. Instead, I'll just say see ya further on up the road.

Doubling up on a hero and a dad

Heading into the April Chiller on very little sleep, my plan was to save my celebrity meetings for the second day. So when Sis met up with some of her pop culture icons, I went along as the general photographer. That ended up giving us two chances to meet the title character from "The Greatest American Hero" and Steven Keaton from "Family Ties."

The first celeb we saw the first day was John Schneider, probably best known to the free world for "The Dukes of Hazzard," although Lorrie was more of a fan from his time on "Smallville" as Clark Kent's dad, Jonathan. He looks amazingly wonderful and really knows how to work his crowd. Lorrie had a variant cover from one of the "Smallville" magazines with him on it to sign, and he hadn't seen it before. That's one of the things she loves to do most at conventions is show off rare acquisitions, so score!

We got in a little conversation with table neighbor, Terry Kiser, more renowned for the dead title character in "Weekend at Bernie's," but better known to us as obnoxious reporter Al Craven in "Night Court." (Wearing my "Night Court" crew jacket to the show was a nice talking piece.) Surprised to find someone interested in him from the latter show, he didn't have photos for that. But we did chat with him a bit without paying any money for it, a Chiller rarity to be sure.

That wasn't the case with William Katt, whom we know not only from the unlikely superhero TV show, but also from cult film favorites "Carrie," "House" and "Baby: Secret of the Lost Legend." Sis had a chat with him about how he carefully toed a precarious line to make his character sympathetic in the "Carrie" prom scenes, and that showed off a great retro find -- "The Superhero Illustrated Guidebook" which had him on the cover as "The Greatest American Hero" with the late, great Robert Culp. He hadn't seen it before either, score again! And he was super-sweet, I was already looking forward to my turn the next day.

Then we went to find Wesley Eure of "Land of the Lost" fame. Since we also remember him from pictures in soap magazines as Mike Horton on "Days of Our Lives," Lorrie got a great-looking picture signed from that era. Another kind and attentive celeb, it was funny that Sis was taller than him in their photo together.

And last but definitely not least was Michael Gross of "Family Ties," although Lor knows him even better from the film series "Tremors." Again we played the "Night Court" card, I told him that even as a kid I realized that the show was trading on his goody-goody image as perfect dad Steven Keaton in order to make the plot about him sexually harassing Markie Post's character work. I was smiling almost more than they were as I took their picture together, and then Michael took the camera, 'cause he loves taking selfies!

Then we went off hunting down treasures in the vendor room, where we found some rare DVDs and old magazines and other things we probably didn't need but were really excited to find. One of my particular faves was a press kit for the Cameron Crowe film "Singles." I had just seen the new Blu-Ray, so it seemed particularly appropriate.

Before we knew it we were back again and it was my turn to hang with the celebs. The Living Room area was populated with more fans than personalities, so we went to the adjoining room to see whether I could meet the duo of Don Most and Anson Williams (best known Ralph Malph and Potsie Weber). They were there, and they had no line. So after I scored tickets for my photo op (a separate line strangely enough), I was in the middle of a "Happy Days" sandwich. I promised I wouldn't say "sit on it" and we got enough of a chuckle for a nice photo.

When I was departing, Anson did something no other celeb has done in the history of my pop culture conventions -- he kissed the side of my head.

Said "hi" to Michael Gross, who was in that room visiting old friends such as Carol Potter ("Beverly Hills 90210"), but by the time we took another look around the Living Room (more on this in a minute) and then went to his area, he was back in place and ready for more selfies.

I told him I had gone home the previous night and watched some "Family Ties" on Netflix and he was proud of that. On his table, there was a special price for people who wanted a photo of themselves with Michael posted on his Facebook feed, but I stuck with the regular shot and did it the old-fashioned way on my own Facebook page.

But of course there was a downer, cause there's always at least one at any pop culture convention, and usually more than one at Chiller. The plan -- as it was -- was to wait on the short line for Vanessa Marcil (best known to me as Brenda Barrett on "General Hospital"). She had a photo op set for 11 a.m., and her handler said Vanessa was on her way down. Apparently she got lost somewhere between the elevator and the Living Room, because half an hour later, she hadn't showed.

At some point, we realized she wouldn't be down at her table before the op, so that's when we went off to see Michael and when we came back, "Kitty Katt" was being his engaging self. When it was my turn, we started talking about what it was like the first time he had to play a guy who didn't know how to work his superhero suit. I said it must have been truly bizarre to be acting like he's flying out of control when there was no precedent for any of it. He said indeed it did was, and added that show creator Stephen Cannell didn't even let him see the suit until they filmed the scene in which he first examined it so that his reaction would be true.

According to the pictures Sis took while this was going on, it was an animated discussion, there was only one in which either my hands or his hands weren't gesturing wildly.

Anyway, it definitely turned my frown upside down. When I got my hug for the picture, I said I would just stay that way all day and he said I could. Yes, he was a real "Kitty Katt."

Eventually I did get my time with Vanessa. She apologized to everyone for being late. As far as I could tell, only two people stuck it out on her line the whole time -- and one of them was a lady who had cut in front of me on the pretense of looking at the Vanessa photos available for autographs on her table.

We saw Billy Zabka of "The Karate Kid" at the next table being affectionate with his fans. Next to him, Gavin MacLeod of "The Love Boat" was also very amiable, although he insisted on wearing Captain Stubing's cap throughout the event. I was sad to see Rip Torn, a favorite actor of mine, looking kind of out of it. And not wanting a repeat of the Lee Majors photo, I chose not to go to his line.

Now I'm starting to lose my own train of thought. Anyway, I told Vanessa about the work I do on YouTube and Facebook on behalf of Sharon Wyatt and John Reilly. She really couldn't recall them being on early in her tenure, but when I mentioned they were often in Robin Scorpio's storyline she brightened up with a "Kimberly McCullough" and again apologized, this time for having a bad memory when it comes to things like that.

So she was perfectly charming and cordial, but I kinda felt like I was acting as much as she was just to get through it. I'll have to ask Lor if I was Emmy-worthy.

Then it was time for shopping again, and over a week later, I still haven't sorted all my stuff out, so I'll take my leave now.

All 4 one and one 4 autism!

One of the more fun and wilder events I've been to is Daytime Stars and Strikes at Bowlmor Lanes in Times Square. A host of former daytime actors come out and bowl with fans while others who don't want to bowl watch and eat all the food up. It's all to raise money for autism awareness, and so no matter what happens or who shows up or who doesn't or who hangs around or who doesn't, it's a blast.

I was on lane 20 with two other "stragglers" who hadn't signed up with someone else. There was Jackie, a "One Life to Live" fan who knew "Guiding Light" actors who had been on her show -- like event co-host Jerry ver Dorn and Kim Zimmer -- and Rosalyn, who at least won the autographed "Days of Our Lives" script in the silent auction. So we all had different soap likes, but we got along very well very quickly.

We excitedly welcomed our celeb -- Sonia Satra, who played Lucy Cooper on "Guiding Light" in the '90s. She was so lovely and spirited, we were hugging from the get-go. Our next-door lane neighbor was Bob Woods (Bo Buchanan on "OLTL") and he spent a lot of time chatting and joking with us. In the lane next to him, a microcosm of the mid-'80s in my life -- Michael O'Leary and Grant Aleksander (Rick Bauer and Phillip Spaulding from "GL.") I was doing a little jig in my uncomfortable and unfashionable bowling shoes. It wasn't long before I was in a Musketeer sandwich getting my picture taken. I told them they seemed ageless; Grant quipped that they needed to buy me some new glasses.

What #teamsonja lacked in actual bowling skill, we made up for in enthusiasm. Whoever wasn't otherwise occupied cheered on the others. We invented the "high four" for when someone knocked down four pins -- using four fingers, of course. That led to the high "nine" and the troublesome high "seven" ('cause there are a couple different ways for someone to produce seven fingers.)

Whenever it was my turn to go, it seemed like it was Bob Woods' turn to as well. The lanes seem so much slimmer at Bowlmor, it kinda seemed like we were all bowling together. Anyway, there was always a photographer or a fellow actor or someone requiring his attention, which then required mine because they were often standing in my lane at the time. But the most distracting? At one point, he leaned back and stuck out his belly like an armchair quarterback on a lazy Sunday. Then I really couldn't concentrate from giggling too much.

I was doing all right, bowling-wise, I found the pocket but I kept not getting that last pin to fall down. My usual colorful phraseology was replaced with exclamations of "bugger," but Sonia and my team were very supportive and Bob told me that I was playing quite well. Then we made some sort of bet for his Daytime Emmy that I still can't recall, other than the fact that I won the bet and the man owes me an Emmy. (In all fairness, he later couldn't remember what the actual bet was either.)

Jackie kept disappearing during our game, when it wasn't her turn, she would run around to other lanes and get selfies with the other actors. She would come back with pictures of her with Kim Zimmer and Jerry ver Dorn and Grant Aleksander (whose scoring line garnered a lot of jokes since it read "Gant.") I wanted pictures too, but I was enjoying the laughter and hugs so I didn't really leave the lane. Besides everyone loves Sonia, so we had lots of visitors!

Just as she was leaving, I caught a glimpse of Elvera Roussel, who played Hope on "GL" kinda before my era. The last time I attended the event, I bought a picture of hers and she graciously autographed it. She was under the weather, but told me of a very interesting documentary she's a part of for people raised in Cambodia. She said to look for it in the next year. I certainly will.

Event co-host Liz Keifer, who I've seen in almost every soap over the years, came to visit and I was telling her about how I have clips of her on my Sean and Tiffany YouTube channel. She exclaimed, "the crazy nun!" Talk about your thankless roles, Camellia in 1986-'87 has got to be one of those. Liz said she just didn't know what she was supposed to do with the character, because the show didn't really know either. They didn't give her a lot to work with, so when "GL" called for her to take over Blake Spaulding, she decided she was going to do the character her way and made no bones about it. That obviously worked out in favor, she really did make Blake her own.

Was hoping to see some of Michael O'Leary being the character we all suspect he is, and when I was taking a picture of him with Liz, he turned it on full blast. He kept moving them in closer and closer until I couldn't see anything in the viewfinder. Then there was this mad grabbing of fans and actors and we all wound up in a funny group picture. At which time, I quipped something about how since I dug into Liz's acting closet, I had to do it for Michael -- bringing up the 1981 action cheesefest "Lovely but Deadly," which seemed to be on cable all the time when Michael started hitting it big on "GL." That made him laugh pretty heartily.

Jerry came over at one point, and since I had used my big story on him last time -- regaling him with the tale and picture from when I first met him back in 1986 -- I was much more anxious to see his reunion with a woman named Susan. As we were stragglers, we befriended her when she sat behind our lane for the event. She was in "The Music Man" in school with Jerry back in the late '60s and played his daughter in the show. It was so sweet to see them meet again.

Mostly it was just hanging with Sonia and Bob. Bob told us when Sonia was "One Life to Live," he always wanted to have more scenes with her. And when her character Barbara Graham went to the dark side, he wanted his Bo Buchanan to set her free. I took complete credit when Sonia threw a strike in her final frame, 'cause I called it. And when Bob was bowling in the 10th, I was heckling him so he wouldn't finish with a higher score than my 77. He didn't. Michael came back to razz Sonia for beating her score, but she said mine topped his and I added that since she's my teammate technically she beat him too. (I know faulty logic, but you had to be there.)

Then it got really funny and really silly as none of us could bowl with Bob making us laugh. At one point, Bob and Sonia were asked to pose for a photo with the bowling balls and that led to an unending series of "Bob has orange balls" taunts, for his bowling ball did match his shirt. #orangeballs. Won't soon forget that.

After our game finished, then I went to find Beth Chamberlin, who I always thought did such a masterful job of replacing an Emmy-winning actress who was a huge fan favorite. She too made Beth her own. And lordy, she looks like she hadn't aged since the show went off the air! Sure, she's a fitness trainer, but look at least a year older, won't ya?

Actually, I had a really nice conversation with her about the difference between soaps now and then. And how soap magazines with spoilers and now social media with people typing up caustic phrases without really paying attention to what's going on on screen have changed things so much. Soaps used to be an event, if you didn't see it when it aired, you just never did. Nowadays, if you miss it, you can catch the whole thing later online or even on someone's YouTube channel.

Also talked with Bob Woods about being the proverbial bridesmaid to Tony Geary (except the one time when he won the Emmy that he owes me). He told us about how at that first one, Tony's plan was to get good and snockered at the event. But Bob said he told Tony he would win, and that he should "be there" for that moment. When Bob won the following year, the show wasn't broadcast on national television, so he wouldn't have gotten to see it if an acquaintance at a local Philly station hadn't filmed it. And the person who presented him with the statue? The previous year's outstanding lead actress, co-star Robin Strasser.

Didn't win anything at the auctions or the raffle, but I didn't leave empty-handed either. Besides the cool gift bag, I wanted something that was part of one of the live auctions, a t-shirt for "Quiet on the Set," the play that one of my all-time favorites Terrell Anthony (Rusty, "GL") created featuring a number of different daytimers. Robert Newman had contributed a T-shirt for the event, which he signed. I wanted that! And though my bid wasn't the highest, I did convince the lovely lady who did win to sell it to me afterward.

People I saw in passing: Ron Raines (Alan Spaulding on "GL" as well as a Broadway legend). If I didn't run after him, I wouldn't have gotten my rockin' picture, because he seemed to take off before the bowling started. Lisa Brown and Martha Byrne (mother and daughter on "As the World Turns") were on the lanes to the other side of us, but other than showing Lisa where she was bowling and saying "hi," I didn't get to spend time with them.

Last time, I got a lot of entertainment out of hanging with Sean Ringgold, a big teddy bear of a fellow who played Shaun on "OLTL." We passed each other outside the restrooms. Not exactly quality time, but his smile is worth its weight in gold.

Oh, and I saw what I thought was the back of Jay Hammer's head when I was signing in. It probably was, since I later saw a photo of him with the other actors on the Daytime Stars and Stripes Facebook page. I soooooo wanted to show him the "Where's our baby?" that he wrote for me after my sister spotted him in her video store and sent him across the street to my newspaper back in 1990.

And the capper. As I left, Kim Zimmer hopped in the elevator. I said she was lucky no one else was in there or I would have made her stop for a picture. (Since I had taken a couple with her in the mid-'80s, I didn't feel the need to press the issue.) I said I enjoyed her work for many years on "GL" and she thanked me. The doors opened and she went her way and off I went to work. End of a fun-filled day at #webowl4autism.

The proverbial three-headed Monster

Monster Mania in Cherry Hill, New Jersey is a great place to meet actors. It's organized, well-spaced and the volunteers don't look like they'd like to disembowel you with some kind of B-movie three-pronged sword. They'll ask politely to smooth out a line. Fellow attendees going in all directions at once say "excuse me" when they accidentally bump you. In short, the antithesis of New York Comic Con and Chiller Theatre in that respect. And they get cool guests too.

I was most excited to meet Robert Patrick. Most everyone knows him as T-1000 from the "Terminator" saga, but he's John Doggett of "The X-Files" to me. The much-beleaguered character who fans didn't give a chance because they were so wrapped up in their Mulder and Scullyness. Some of his episodes in the final two seasons rank amongst my all-time favorites. But I was still a little worried about meeting him. He just looks so intense.

So I was really caught off guard when it was my turn on line and he said "Hi, beautiful" before I had even uttered a word. Mark quipped he would have flattened the guy for taking liberties, but we're talking T-1000, right? Not really someone you want to mess with. And besides, he was so nice that there wasn't any reason to.

Then he spotted my X-Files ninth-season crew sweatshirt. "Where did you get that?" he inquired. "eBay, of course," I responded, looking at the ground in mock shame. But that kicked off a discussion about how Robert could list his own stuff on the auction site. He has a ton of that kind of stuff, he said.

So I picked out an X-Files picture on his autograph table and he started to sign it, writing "Where's Muldah?" -- a funny take on Doggett's Bahstan accent. I truthfully said I didn't really care where Mulder was, because I enjoyed him and his character greatly.

That seamlessly segued into self-promotion for Patrick, who is starring on CBS' "Scorpion." His character, Cabe Gallo, is the government handler for a team of super-geniuses who save the world every Monday night. I added that now he could save me in the photo op. He said he would save me and wrapped me up tightly for our picture.

And lest he have forgotten, then he said, "Thanks for the things you said before, it really means a lot to me." Which meant a lot to me, in turn. I added I enjoy reading his posts on Twitter and that he had responded to me a couple times -- usually about hockey. He asked my Twitter handle, I told him and said I'd post our photo there. He not only said goodbye to me, but Mark as well. I told him to have a great weekend as I'm sure anyone else who had the pleasure of meeting him also did.

Judge Reinhold was on extended lunch break, so we went to see Chris McDonald next. He usually plays the heavy in the movies, the most memorable to me being that of Thelma's husband in "Thelma and Louise," but I venture to guess that most people know him as Shooter McGavin from "Happy Gilmore." Actually, true confessions, I really know him best as Goose in "Grease 2," but my favorites of his are "Chances Are" and "Quiz Show."

There was no line when we got to him, I always hate that on the actor's behalf. And he too spoke to me before I really said anything to him. "Are you from Philadelphia?" I'm sure I gave him the sour face on that one and shook my head no. "Jersey?" he asked with great surprise.

That was kind of strike one, actually it was strike two, because his table didn't have any "Grease 2" photos and I kind of had a game plan to get one signed for my sister for her upcoming birthday. He said he had been asked a lot during the morning about that. I quipped, "Well, now you're going to have to sing 'Where does the pollen go?'" from "Grease 2." And he did, in charming bass tone and all!

That sent me reeling the other way, and I forgot to pull out one of the chips I had in my hand -- my awesome "I'm Jack Barry" impression from "Quiz Show." Later that night, I found out there was another chip that could have been played -- we have the same birthday.

I told him how much I enjoyed him in "Chances Are." Even though the impetus for the story is that his character, Louie Jeffries, gets killed, he's still ever-present in the rest of the film. McDonald said if that movie had done better he probably would have had a completely different career as a romantic leading man. (Apparently it just made back its $16 million budget in theaters, although I think it's been discovered by a lot of people on video since. I did see it on the big screen.)

We made the very fortuitous decision to get on the Reinhold line (and actually start it) about 10 minutes before he was due back. It wound up being a long and winding one by the time Judge got back down, so kudos to Mark for that call.

When I got up to his table, I displayed my "I'm Off Beat" button like some kind of Showcase Showdown model on "The Price Is Right" and his eyes and mouth widened. He seemed shocked in the best possible way and genuinely pleased that I had that and a lobby card to have signed. I threw in a little "Arrested Development" reference kinda by accident. "My name is Paige," I told him and then added, "Your name is Judge" in a similar tone to the magazine ad on the show that had a voice chip for his on-screen courtroom show.

Reinhold said "Off Beat" suffered from a trailer that played like an action/adventure when it actually was more of a romantic comedy. I asked whether he had to take a lot of dance lessons. He chuckled and said he didn't and that co-star Meg Tilly was the one who had it rough, since she was a dancer who had to act worse than she actually was. Still, he had to have taken some kind of lessons, there's a whole choreographed routine that recurs throughout the movie. Can't really improv that.

We chatted about the great cast in the movie, including Harvey Keitel, Joe Mantegna and John Turturro, and he added he was so glad that I remembered the film fondly. Which I do, it's a great one to watch and laugh over.

Monster Mania was Judge's first convention, so he was a bit distracted from people at the side of the table who may or may not have been taking pictures of him while he was with me. His handlers didn't help any, as they weren't even listening to him the couple of times he expressed his displeasure over that. If Penny Marshall was there, she would have settled the guy's hash for sure.

But he maintained his composure and took some lovely pictures. I not only had Mark taking some, but there was also a guy doing press photos who snapped some and forwarded them to us later. I felt like I was on the red carpet for a couple minutes. But the rest of the day, I was on a cloud instead since I had met three of the nicer celebrities I've had the pleasure to run across. Some "Monsters" just aren't that scary.

They say it's your belated birthday...

This year, I had the longest birthday in history. Most of the celebration was to be saved for the next week, when my sister was going to be in town and we planned to go to two Rick Springfield events in one day -- an in-store appearance on Long Island and a "Stripped Down" show in New York City.

That required a lot of planning and waking up at 7 a.m. to catch the train to Manhattan for the train to Babylon for the cab to Looney Tunes CDs. Unfortunately, it also involved subfreezing temperatures and a lot of walking for sis, who broke her toe the previous week and was in a walking boot.

We got there just in time to stand in line for about 90 minutes. On top of that, we found out that Rick had come down with a bug (not our fault this time!) The Looney Tunes staffer patrolling the line told us Rick might not perform nor take pictures with attendees. On previous occasions, musicians who had taken ill pulled the sick card on Looney Tunes. But then again, they weren't Rick Springfield.

They originally expected a healthy Rick to do three songs... he ended up doing 4 1/2 -- "Oh Well," "Human Touch" (with a lot of audience assistance), "Red House," "Jessie's Girl" (with assistance whether he actually wanted it or not) and some of "I Need You," a George Harrison Beatles composition.

On the YouTube video of the event, you can hear me go "yeahhhhhh" when Rick started "Oh Well," which also happens to be my favorite Fleetwood Mac song. He does it justice, even when he has the flu.

And then we went back out into the cold to line up for the pictures. If we skipped "I Need You," we might not have been at about 150 on the line, but we didn't. And eventually we did get back in the store and prepped to meet the man.

A bit about my plan. Originally, I helped coordinate a present for Sharon Wyatt, Rick's former co-star on "General Hospital." He was performing in Nashville on her birthday, Feb. 13. And the plan was for fellow Friends of Sharon Wyatt administrator David to take her to the show. But unfortunately, Sharon is still recovering from her umpteenth surgery for osteonecrosis of the jaw and was unable to attend. So my new plan was to get Rick to sign his new CD/DVD for her.

So we worked our way through the line. When it was my turn, and with me surprisingly not shaking for a change from either cold or Rick proximity, I told him it was my belated birthday and that my sister would be getting one signed for Sharon. I told him what that original plan was to be, and quickly got my picture snapped. Then it was her turn, and he signed "To Sharon, with love, Rick Springfield." Perfect.

There's a seamy side to being a Rick Springfield fan. You're forced to watch the lengths to which other fans go to to get to him. How they'll crowd him and try to stay in his face, as if that would make any kind of positive impression on him. (As I write this blog, he's doing a live event on stage at House of Blues in Boston. And fans were asked NOT to ask for a picture with him or a hug or an autograph during the question-and-answer session, but they did anyway.) I'm a dedicated fan, but I never want to be THAT kind of fan. And I think I'm not. In fact, I know I'm not, 'cause my sister would certainly straighten me out if I was.

Anyway as we rode the train back to the city, the snow began to fall -- see, it had been so cold earlier that it staved off the snow. Despite the MTA's attempts to rebuff us, we even got in a visit to the world's best bookstore, the Strand, before setting off for the night concert.

The performance was at The Concert Hall on West 64th Street across from Central Park. It's a converted church with, of course, amazing acoustics. The problem is finding exactly how to get in as there is no signage. Not too much fun hobbling around and trying to figure out where the door is when it's snowing and there are broken bones involved.

But eventually the right door of a door set I had tried before opened, and in we went to the 800-seat venue. Ah, warmth. Nice benches. People trying to step on your toes (good or bad) while getting to their seat in the padded pew.

One double rum and a nondescript opening act later, we got us some Rick. The poor guy was hurting, but he plodded to his stool with a bottle of cough syrup in tow. And truth be told, although he looked sick, he never sounded sick and delivered an incredibly intimate performance.

The "Stripped Down" shows are punctuated by sometimes fun, sometimes poignant, sometimes both at the same time stories about Rick from then to now. He started with "I Get Excited," really peeling away the poppier aspects of the song and delivering it in a raw style that set up the style for the whole evening.

My and my sister's joint favorite, "Affair of the Heart" was next, and he showed us how his use of chords now and then and probably in the future has remained the same. The evening included a spectacular slide show that complemented his stories. This was the case with "Me and Johnny," about a friend he made in childhood back in Australia who remains a close buddy today.

Rick went to the cough syrup bottle often. Frankly, I was amazed that he could recount these stories so lucidly. As I told my sis, I have trouble listing all the names of my cats when I'm under the weather and medicated.

One of the great tales told was about Rick going to Vietnam to entertain the troops and being serenaded by the sounds of bombs and gunfire. The pictures that accompanied these words were precious, and he truly looked like a baby in the midst of intense and great horror. The band gave him a solo to do on that tour, and that song was "Oh Well," now in his modern-day repertoire.

That and "Rolling and Tumbling" show off Rick's real talent and facility with the guitar. I would think that's being lost on the legions of fans who remember him as their first respective boyfriends, but increasingly, the crowds are featuring a lot of men -- and not just those dragged their by their women, but who are really into it. (As if to back it up, at this online House of Blues show, two guys were the first ones up to the mic to ask Rick questions.)

My favorite "Stripped Down" story is about the writing of "Love Somebody." It was inspired by Rick's co-star in "Hard to Hold," not the love interest played (badly) by Janet Eilber, but by the one left behind in the film, Patti Hansen. The former model is married to Keith Richards, and the Rolling Stones' guitarist moseyed down to the set when he heard his wife and Rick were getting along like gangbusters. And as Rick admitted, he turned into a 14-year-old girl himself when taking a picture with his childhood idol.

The most touching story of all would have to be about the passing of Rick's dad. As he explains, when it happened, he could only get a few lines of a song out ("April 24, 1981"). Only later was he able to truly convey his pain, in "My Father's Chair." He performed them back-to-back at the show and choked his flock up.

Sis was charmed by "If Wishes Were Fishes," a funny laundry list of things Rick would ask for if he got an unlimited supply of wishes, including that people stop referring to him as "Bruce Springsteen." He showed an affinity for technology too by belting out the soulful "Inside Silvia" with the assistance of a guitar app on his cell phone.

There were darling snippets of his early writing, including his debut single, "Speak to the Sky" and the very first song he wrote, the Beatle-esque "Painted Girl." Then a detailed story about being invited to write a song with Todd Rundgren, and the subsequent afternoon in which no song came forth. Instead, Rick toked, chilled and was pawed by the pet doxie. And of course, he would never leave out his two biggest hits -- "Jessie's Girl" and "Don't Talk to Strangers."

The evening was capped by a Q&A hosted by original MTV veejay Mark Goodman, who again tried to set down the ground rules about no hugging, autographs, photos. An "enterprising" Rick fan came up with another tactic, an offer to share her bottle of cough syrup with Rick. Another one -- at least one, that is -- would have been honored to get his germs. Sigh. I think I'm ready to write a blues song about the life of a sane Rick fan. A belated birthday gift to myself, no doubt.

Sometimes it's lonely at the top

(Disclaimer: The following should not be taken as a series of complaints. I'm very grateful for this rare treat, I'm just cataloguing the emotions behind them, just as I do each and every time I blog. So, if on the face, it comes off as petty, it's certainly not the place I'm coming from. I don't want to be petty. Not Tom, not Richard and especially not Lori Petty. Great, now I need a disclaimer for that!)

It started back in November. My co-worker, Daren, was giving me the traditional scary-as-hell ride to work, and we were listening to Q104.3. That's a classic rock station that plays the same 27 songs over and over again. So when the deejay said he was giving away Joe Bonamassa tickets at Radio City Music Hall, I was certainly surprised. And interested. I'd seen Joe before at B.B. King's and he's quite the talented guitarist. The part about it being on Q104.3 escaped me, since they don't play his music, but no gripe here.

Mainly I was calling for "ark," the back half of this combo we call "Park." I'm a fan, but Mark's the mega-fan. I was surprised when the phone rang at the radio station and I was shocked when I was told I won, but there it was. Two tickets to see Joe Bonamassa at Radio City, and I was entered for the grand prize of an autographed guitar and a meet-and-greet with Joe B. as well. Spectacular, right?

The next day I hear from Gianna at the radio station, she says the tickets aren't there yet and she'll contact me when they are. A month or so passes and I'm not overly concerned, but wondering what's going on with the tickets.

After the Christmas break, I heard from Gianna again. She told me to go to the station to pick them up. I replied that I don't come to the city that often during business hours, but would make it happen. Then she gave me a long series of instructions of how and when to get them. And then after all that, she added that she could Fed Ex them to me. I think I did a double take, even with no one else in the room. Shouldn't that have been said earlier?

No bother, she took down some info so she could e-mail me some release forms before they could be sent and then hung up. I was about to text Mark with the good news about the tickets and Gianna called back. "By the way, I didn't tell you, you're the grand-prize winner!"

I can't tell you how stunned I was at that. In fact, it had completely slipped my mind that there was a guitar and a meet-and-greet in play, I was just concerned about getting our seats at that point, I guess. My head was pounding as I shakily texted Mark about that one.

Then I signed and e-mailed back my release forms, got the tickets the next day -- although she had thrown some fear in me by saying if they got lost on the way, that was it on that front. But no problem there.

As far as Gianna had said, the radio station's part was done and someone else would be handling the guitar and the meet-and-greet for me. Except that never happened. I never got a call or email from anyone else on it.

The week of the show, I emailed Gianna back and told her the situation, completely unconfident about it based on what she had told me earlier. But by the end of the day, she had gotten back to me with meet-and-greet details. She had also dispatched another email about the guitar.

In the meantime, a conflict had sprung up for Mark. The guy who never had to go anywhere for work was in Atlanta all week. And he was gonna be flapping his wings pretty hard to get home for the show. The meet-and-greet was an impossibility. Can't tell you how much I didn't relish going to that alone. Mark's the super-fan, I'm just the "hey, I enjoy your music" fan.

The next day, another email from Gianna. The guitar was being Fed Ex-ed to me the day of the show. Potential problem: I had to leave for the city at 2 p.m. in order to get the bus, train and walking done to be there by the designated meet-and-greet time. Do I leave the guitar on my doorstep or ask a neighbor if it's not there by 2?

That proved to be no problem either. It showed up in the morning. I made the difficult decision not to lug the guitar onto the bus, train and subway for an autograph and left it behind. Mark's suggestion ... which he later took back ... after I'd decided to take his advice.

Of course, I'm at Radio City nice and early, cause you never know when you're gonna have a bus, or a train, or a walking problem. In the lobby, a lady from PBS was taking names for the meet-and-greet. Only she didn't have mine, she just had the PBS people's.

More about the people who paid for the meet-and-greet through PBS. I'm not sure they saw me at all, standing there all by myself. They seemed to be doing everything but making eye contact. It was a reclusive half-hour, I'll tell you that. With a side order of "should I worry that I'm not on this list"?

Some side issue sprung up between PBS lady and a couple of representatives, I'm not sure whether they were Radio City or Joe B. people, but PBS woman wasn't happy about it. One of the reps started taking names. I worked my way over there, THAT list I was on. Whew. He asked me where my "plus-one" was, I said he couldn't make it.

Now I'm bright-orange Radio City Music Hall wrist-banded and we're led down the hall, down some stairs. And there's a curtain with Joe's name all over it. Some basic tenets of meet-and-greets were given out -- no single pictures taken ... unless, of course, you came by yourself.

And before we knew it, Joe was in front of us with a disarming "sorry, I'm late." There were two people ahead of me and one group of four people behind me, and the guy halves of the couples were trying to stop the women halves from taking pictures. I tried to help, I really did, when I said, "I've heard that people can get thrown out for doing that."

I turned back around, and one of the guy halves said, "She's been here before." One of the woman halves retorted snottily, "I don't care if she's been here before." And that was my big interaction with a non-guitarist at the meet-and-greet. Was trying to help, but I shoulda kept my mouth shut.

I had been stressing about what actually I would say to Joe when it was my turn, but I really shouldn't have worried about it. I told him about super-fan rushing back for the show and thanked him for the guitar (now the latter HAD to be something that no one else in the line was going to say). And then the picture, and before I knew it, I was bundling back up and out the door.

It was about 90 minutes between the time that ended and when we'd be let in for the show, so I got lost in the NBC building for a while. (Funny thing was I almost rolled my eyes when someone at Penn Station had asked me where the exit was, and then I was a couple minutes away from doing the same at NBC. What a maze!)

A hot chocolate and some laps around Radio City and 30 Rock later, it was time to go in for the show. And now I did find some people I could actually talk to -- Dan and Roseanne! Well, not the Conners of TV's Roseanne, and actually, it's Dan and Roseann. But I met some nice people. And incensed them equally -- Dan with my story of getting the guitar and Roseann with the tale of the meet-and-greet. She had been told Joe wasn't doing any because the show was being recorded or some such nonsense. To clarify, I think that Joe's peeps weren't doing meet-and-greets, although he did have the PBS ones ... and mine.

Despite the fact that Dan wanted Mark "to miss his plane" out of Atlanta -- it may sound overly harsh, but it really made me laugh hard, I enjoyed talking with them a lot. And the rum helped too.

When you're sitting in the audience at Radio City, you kinda bemoan the sight line, especially when someone taller is right in front of you. But the minute the music starts, you realize it couldn't sound better.

Joe did two amazing sets, starting off with an acoustic one. This included my (and Roseann's) favorite song "Different Shades of Blue," a tremendous cover of Robert Johnson's "Stones in My Passway," and Daniel Lanois' atmospheric "Still Water." Mark texted during the first song, his plane had just landed.

Then a break (and another rum) before the electric set. More great material, including a dynamic blues triumvirate: Howlin Wolf's "Hidden Charms," Muddy Waters' "I Can't Be Satisfied" and Otis Rush's "Double Trouble." I didn't even THINK about Clapton's version during the latter, so that should say a tremendous lot. And I knew a lot more of his material than I did the previous time I saw him.

And then Mark showed up! He got to see about an hour of the show, including Dan's favorite, a cover of Tim Curry's "Sloe Gin." The three-song encore included a Hendrix cover, "Hey Baby (New Rising Sun), "Oh Beautiful" and "So, What Would I Do."

I didn't get to say goodbye to Dan and Roseann, who ducked out before we stood and turned around, so ... "Bye guys, nice to meet ya!" And then we came home and Mark played with the guitar ... and the cats ... and the dog. And it was good, and back to our wacky embarrassment-of-riches existence that is Grand Central Station meets the Bronx Zoo.