Alright, I *had* a killer story, but if you've already read Lotus's latest journal entry, it's gonna be ruined. Here it is anyway. Be warned - if you thought my piercing story was long, you may want to leave now.

OK, so I was totally stoked yesterday about seeing Frank Black. I figured I'd run a few errands, then head up to CJSW, pull some music, and head over to the show (which was gonna play like 50 feet from the offices).

On the train ride up, I put my hand in my ticket pocket. No fucking tickets. I check *all* my pockets - no luck. I lost the things when I was running around downtown.

I wanted to kill myself. This is the only guy I have *ever* wanted to see in concert, whether with the Catholics, with the Pixies, or solo. I had tix, and I lost 'em. Couldn't arrange to replace them, either. Like I said, I wanted to die.

So I get to CJSW, and I'm in a foul fucking mood. I call everywhere I'd gone that day to see if the tix were there. Nope.

So I'm just hanging around in the office, totally dejected, when someone says, "Hey, that's him on the air right now." I listen to the on-air monitor, and it's Frank Black. Live. The station manager shows up shortly and says that Frank's in the studio, doing an interview.

This is his only interview on this whole fucking tour of North America. So the station manager, the music director and I head over to the production room, which is right beside the on-air booth and has a window in the dividing wall, to watch and listen. It's as close as I'm gonna get to seeing the show, and he's playing some brand new songs, too.

So I'm sitting there staring at the back of his head and listening to him talk and play. It was definitely a mood-lifter, but I was still bummed. Then the interview wraps up, and most folks leave. Frank Black says he's going to wander the halls a bit before the show, and heads out. I also leave. I see him ambling along about 20 feet ahead, and think, "I'm never going to get this opportunity again. What the hell." So I yell, "Hey!" and run to catch up to him.

Wen I reach him, I say "Hey man, that was a great interview. I loved those new songs, too. Y'know, I was gonna go to the show tonight, but I lost my tickets, so I just wanted to tell you it was great to get to hear that." I introduce myself and shake the man's hand. That, in itself, was awesome.

He says "Well, thanks. Hey, gimme your name and I'll put you and a friend on the guest list."



"What?! Seriously?! Ohmygod, OK! Hold on!"

I go running into the campus bar for pen and paper, scrawl my name almost illegibly, my hands are shaking so bad, and come dashing back out. He's nowhere to be found.

Fuck! He totally ditched me! Bear in mind, this guy is extremely anti-publicity. There's a reason he only did the one interview - like I said, it was 50 feet from the venue, and there was a professional journalist doing it. So I figure he just split once a screaming groupie (that'd be me) latched onto him.
But then he comes around the corner. "Oh, there you are. Cool. So, gimme that and I'll get you on the list."

"OK! Here!" I'm a complete freak at this point.

He nods to where I just came rushing out of. "So is that the bar?"

"Yep."

"They have Guinness?"

"Yep." OK, so my wits were a bit shaken. Leave me alone.

"Cool. Seeya 'round, man." And he wanders off again.

I was so excited I almost had a heart attack. Ended up grabbing a pint of G myself and knocking it back in about five minutes to try to calm down. Then I told the whole story to everyone I could find. Three times.

I hadn't heard from Krista, so I figured "screw her." Believe me, I had my reasons, which I may explain at a later date. Called up Lotus. "Hey, y'wanna see Frank Black tonight?"
"Sure! Can I get in?"
"Yeah... I'm on the guest list, plus one."

She was excited too, which was awesome as well.

OK, the show itself is a whole other story, and I can't really tell it right now because I haven't been to bed yet and I stink, but I'll try to post it later. The point is, simply seeing this guy in concert has been a lifelong goal of mine. He's the only rockstar I've ever wanted to meet. I told Leningrad repeatedly that I would sell my soul to sit in on his interview at the station. And I got fucking all of that, yesterday afternoon.

I'm gonna burn, but it was so worth it.