You’re never too old to make a complete ass of yourself and enjoy it. I should know, I did it almost two weeks ago and I’m only just coming down off the high.
I may sound like Nelson, but I feel like Marcia Brady in the Desi Arnaz and Davy Jones Brady Bunch episodes, only I got goo-goo eyed by Glenn Tilbrook. Yes, the voice of Squeeze, the livewire powerhouse performer, the acoustic watch-me-play-Hendrix’s-Voodoo-Child-behind-my-back wonder!
I’m not talking about this as some kind of adolescent Pin-up boy thing, I was smitten by the music. I bought, listened to, learned every song–collective, solo and guest vocalist–and sang along. I saw Squeeze all over the globe–Ah, hell, you get gist of my groupiedom. The point is, in 1987, at the height of my groupiosity, I met Glenn and had that all important photo snapped. Yes, that was a thrill. Every time I saw him and spoke to him was a thrill, but thanks to that one photo, and a very, very dear friend (Hear that KHWP?), it only took twenty years to fulfill the fantasy of being invited to sing on a stage with Glenn. Hence the goo-goo eyedness.
The point of this goofy little story?
Do I really need to spell it out?
Ok (insert sigh here).
Listen up. Dreams do come true–even the fluffiest, most adolescent, most inane sounding ones where you know you look like the biggest dork on the planet, but don’t give a damn.
If you’re really lucky, you have someone as gracious as Glenn make you look good. Cheers then to you, Mr Tilbrook!
In the immortal words of Bobby Brady. Wow!