One of the many benefits of living in Las Vegas is all the great shows that come through town. I really took advantage of it, especially the last year of my tour. I was going to see a cool band or singer at least twice a month. One such occurance took place in October of 1999. No Doubt was doing a seven-city mini-tour about six months before the release of "Return of Saturn," just to test out their new material. All the places they played were in Southern California, their home turf, except for one--a nice, little venue called The Joint, inside the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino. It was one of the better places in Vegas to see shows, and I was really excited because I'd never seen No Doubt before.
A large group of us went, and I remember standing in the crowd when the curtain came up. Gwen was sporting cool, black space pants, a pink, glittery tank top with one strap, a big pink cape attached at her wrists, and bright pink, feathered hair. She looked amazing. They started out the show with "New," one of my favorite No Doubt songs. The crowd was jumping and screaming, and I was having a blast. About 2/3 of the way through the show, I decided I was going to surf the crowd. I had my friend Rick toss me up, and I must've stayed up for quite a while. Before I knew it, I was almost at the front of the crowd. I looked behind myself, and saw Gwen standing at the front of the stage, singing "Sunday Morning," another favorite. As is the case with most concerts, there is a big metal gate in front of the stage to make a little passageway between the band and the crowd for the security guards. I knew I was going to be tossed over the rail any second, so I decided to take the opportunity at hand. I steered myself in the direction of Gwen, and as I was falling over the rail, I flipped over and managed to grab the inside of Gwen's left thigh with my left hand. I could feel the security guard tugging on my leg, so I screamed the only thing I could think of:
IIIII LLOOOOOOVVEE YYYOOOOUUUUUUUUU!!!
The security guard yanked on my foot, and my hand lost its clutch of Gwen's leg. Gwen never missed a beat. I was dropped on the floor, but I jumped up and ran around the side to the back of the crowd, receiving smiles, nods, and pats on the back on the way. I surfed a couple more times, but didn't get as close to the stage as the first time. One of the more humorous times, I got dropped on two 12-year-old girls who gave me nasty looks. Then one said, "Cut it out, mo fo!" Those were her exact words. "Mo fo"? That's why I hate all-ages shows.
Thus ends "Brush with Greatness" week here at the wax. I hope you've enjoyed your time of living vicariously through my narratives. If you have any ideas for future themes, please let me know. My e-mail address is on my profile. Thanks for your time and attention. Take care. No worries. God Bless.
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