What is it about an autograph? It’s
just a signature. I’ve written my
signature hundreds of times. What’s
so special about anyone else’s?
These are questions the star struck
side of me may never be able to
answer - and the reason dozens of
autographs are collecting dust in my
room.
The hours I’ve spent waiting for
celebrities probably add up to days.
I’ve waited for famous singers to
emerge from backstage concert
doors, waited to catch a glimpse of a
senator walking out of his office on
Capitol Hill.
Just…waited.
I’d classify myself as somewhere in
between fan girl and paparazzi. I’d
stand for hours in the elements with
my camera, but I wouldn’t chase you
down in my car. I just want your
name in ink.
The source of my autograph
addiction can be traced to July 21,
2006 - the day of the Season Five
American Idols Live concert in
Rochester, New York. After the songs
were sung and the final bows were
made, my mom and I found
ourselves at the back of the Blue
Cross Arena, where we noticed a bus.
People standing adjacent to it were
huddled behind a metal barrier -
waiting for something, it seemed. We
then realized why. This wasn’t just
any bus. It was the Idols tour bus!
Suddenly, the thought of seeing
Kellie Pickler and Chris Daughtry
mere feet away from me created a
flurry of belly butterflies. With a little
persuasion, my mom agreed to stand
with me in the crowd. Were we really
going to see the Idols up close? They
have to walk to their tour bus, don’t
they? My answer came sooner than
expected.
There he was, the man of the hour:
Taylor Hicks. Probably not a name
many would recognize now, but in
2006 he was America’s reigning
American Idol and therefore a rock
star as far as I was concerned. I
needed his autograph. Desperate for
a piece of paper, I guilted a stranger
into lending me her ticket.
Now armed and dangerous, I could
enjoy the thrill of being one with the
crowd. Waving my arms and
screaming, “Taylor!” with the other
fans was an experience until then I
didn’t know I was missing.
He greeted fans at the opposite
barricade, and then the American
Idol finally strolled over to our side. I
wasn’t in the front line, so I stretched
my arm out as far as I could. My
superhero flexibility paid off – he
JASMINE'S PLACE
37