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A Capital Idea Our big trip to Sacramento began at 10 a.m. when Churchmouse arrived at my house. I love this woman -- she travels with a wallet and a water bottle. But don't ask her to navigate. *g* Our next stop was to pick up Maggie and zeusdog in Alameda. zeusdog's luggage canceled out Churchmouse's frugality. We sang and giggled and EEEEEEE'd our way to Sacramento to the strains of Every Clay Aiken Performance Known to Woman. One important note: Believe nothing these people tell you about my driving. Arriving a bit early, we checked out the venue and tried to collect our will-call tickets, but no dice. A hike around the parking lot brought us to some buses, which got zeusie's motor running, but I had to rain on her parade -- wrong buses. She was amused and amazed that I know what they look like! I was convinced that the Hyatt Regency was the only logical stop for the Idols, so we made it our next destination. And sure enough, big as life blocking traffic out front, there were the buses. We whipped into the Hyatt parking garage, convinced we wouldn't be able to get in but what the hell. We waltzed right into the lobby -- no security, no nothing -- and took some bar seats with a good view of the front door. One margarita later, we saw Jerome, Rickey, Carmen, Charles, and K Lo go out to the buses, also a couple of the dancers. Jerome was rolling a flower-patterned suitcase, and Churchmouse commented on Clay's taste in luggage. We walked outside just in time to see the buses pull away; obviously Clay and Ruben had been spirited away in some other direction. Later we learned they had spent part of the day at a local high school, "directing" the HS choir class. No rest for the weary and famous. So, back to the venue for more stalking. We hung around a radio booth outside for a while, to no avail. Permed Blonde Hoochie and Sleazy Brunette Hoochie were flashing their passes for the M&G. (Remember this - we'll see them again.) We went up to the ticket area and found about 50 more people waiting, including our own Bronwynne, agape, mel ladi, and webweaver, who got a pass for being from NZ. Yay webweaver! She had a fantastic experience, I'm sure she'll tell it herself. She took the two dozen Krispy Kremes I had brought to Clay, and she said he was very appreciative. ("Well, if you liked THAT, honey, come over here and check THIS out....") zeusdog tried her best wheedling approach on Jerome, but to no avail. So we trundled on over to the Hard Rock Cafe to meet up with the PRoCer's. It was a great gathering, although quite a few people ran into traffic and other problems and arrived late. Thanks to the lovely Oddreigh for booking the room and organizing. Odd wowed the entire city with her cleavage and her head-to-toe red outfit, a not-so-subtle snark on angel wings. ncgurrl brought Clack to share and we all signed a beautiful PRoC banner she's made for Clay. Hope he gets it someday! I won the "stalker" prize for going to seven concerts - groucho glasses and a disco ball. After a too-short time to get acquainted, we all scattered in a flurry to pick up will-call tickets, where I discovered that I'd lost my driver's license. Fortunately, they accepted my Costco card as photo ID.
The Concert Most of the PRoC'ers were in the first five rows. I had excellent fourth-row seats on the center aisle with Churchmouse, and Maggie was right behind us. We saw and met many, many Clay fans all around us, it was a typical Clay crowd. While the seats were excellent for viewing, they were not for some things, I'll get the whining out of the way up front. Lucky Churchmouse, Permed Blonde Hoochie and Sleazy Brunette Hoochie (remember them?) were sitting right in front of her. They stood through the whole show, waving their arms in front of my camera at every opportunity, screaming the performers' names at inopportune times in their songs. Where's that shuttle when you need it. The first three rows had no aisle but the seats were free-standing, so everyone came up beside MY seat and crammed their way into aisle three at that very spot. People - well, OK, WOMEN - kept coming up next to me to take photos, and the same idiot security guard interrupted my attention on Clay's performances TWICE to tell ME to "go back to my seat", when that WAS my seat. The second time he did it, I ripped his head off and stuffed it down his pants. He didn't come back. Many people arrived late to climb over and around us. One little girl two rows in front of me stood on her chair and held her sign up where we had no view at all; I toppled her twice. Generally speaking, I must say that the Californians upheld their reputations as the rudest people on the planet. I had much better experiences back east, thank you very much. Rant over. It was beyond interesting to return for my fifth concert after a month of just reading about them. My word. Somebody has grown up a LOT in the last thirty days. Clay in Charge. All MAN Clay. Can't call him baby anymore. And if Bob was ever there at all, the barn has burned down and fallen in on him. Charles, Julia, Rickey, KimberMe, Carmen, blahblahblah-cakes. Trenyce sounded hot and as always got the crowd going. K Lo sounded hoarse to me, sang credibly but had some noticeable voice cracks. All the performers acknowledged how glad they were to be back in California, and they seemed to mean it. Why they insisted on calling it "Cali", I don't know. No one here ever says "Cali". K Lo mentioned how the humidity back east makes her hair impossible and how glad she is to be in California for that reason. K Lo made her introduction to the expected screaming. She even picked up something thrown onstage and said, "I'll make sure it gets to CLAY". The minute the hedgehog-head appeared through the smoke, the place went nuts. At least fairly nuts, it was an average crowd, not as energized as I would have liked - there was a lot of sitting in the first five rows. I had the most fun watching Churchmouse and Maggie as they absorbed what they had heard about but not yet experienced -- Behold the Power of Clay over his audience. As Clay was starting to rise from the stage, Maggie leaned forward and said, "I don't know if I can handle this!" It was definitely a Clay crowd. Ruben got good cheers for 15 seconds after he was introduced, then it calmed; but Clay's went on for much longer, as usual. (The Hoochie twins were, predictably, Ruben fans. They screamed for Clay also, but when Ruben and Clay were doing TGIM, it was Ruben they yelled at. Lucky Ruben. You'll hear this, more than you want, in my video.) Overall, Clay's performances were solid but unremarkable, except for Invisible; get to that later. LazyDay had shared with me her opinion that Clay looked bored at times in SLC, and I saw that here also. He still enjoys singing solo, but he seems fidgety and uncomfortable at times in the group numbers, and I think mentally he is ready to move on. This Is The Night was a good solid performance. It always seems to go by too fast, probably because you spend so much time waiting for it. He was radiant as usual and captivated the crowd. After he finished, he asked the crowd, "How many of you are running for governor?" He had seen not my sign, but the little girl in front of me with something about The Terminator. Some people yelled out "Clay for governor", and he said, "Well, I don't want it." Afterwards I guess Ruben sang, I think I dozed off. Churchmouse said Ruben gave her a headache. And I changed my batteries and memory cards and waited for the second half. Oh, wait, I do remember one thing: Ruben came out onstage and Churchmouse turned to me and said with disgust and amazement, "He's FAT!" "I'll alert the media," I replied. TLIA/Bootylicious went as usual. I watched a bit more of it this time. TLIA is a really strange anachronism in this show and doesn't mesh at all with Bootylicious, as some reviewers have noted. Clay always skates through this number, he doesn't seem to like it much either. The TGIM banter was a bit flat, Clay didn't seem to be really into it. I had been holding up my poster-sized EW cover all night but Clay never saw it. I must be putting out some anti-Clay magnetic field that insures he never looks my way. Fortunately, one of the AZ contingent in the front row threw one of the letter-sized copies onstage and it landed right at his feet. He picked it up, looked surprised, showed it to Ruben and said, "I haven't seen this yet." He asked who had thrown it, one of our girls waved, and he acknowledged them, laughed a lot and said, "This is the very first time I've seen this". I think he was pleased, but once again bemused at the power of the fans-cum-internet. Then the shower of underwear began. The most notable item was a white, lacy bustier with garter hooks attached. Clay looked at it, startled, then held it up in front of him as if to model it. Ruben got stuffed animals. We got the no-health-insurance-family-friendly-not-family-friendly-cakes speech. Ruben was taking the lead on this particular night. Clay scurried around picking up underwear, muttering about being a janitor. At one point he came across a red thong - the kind you wear on your feet - and said, "Now, THIS is an appropriate thong to throw on the stage." Then they launched into the pre-song script, blahblahblah Today show, Kelly-cakes, TGIM. Clay seemed to be holding back on the high notes, using falsetto and letting Ruben fill in. This was the third night in a row, with a long bus trip from Portland. "Go Ruben" is awful, but surprisingly less awful than "pretty toes" or whatever it was. It has a little better melody, if any, but the lyrics are pretty bad. What I heard of them. I dozed off again. I enjoyed the Bee Gees medley. Got some great shots of TLS, the Clulia, and a couple of fuzzy shots of the Clarmen where he appears to be staring at her boobs. Can You Feel the Love Tonight was beautiful as always, although he goofed the lyrics at one point and I saw just a flicker of "oh shit" (excuse me, "oh ding-dangit") go across his face, then he went right on. He so loves to milk the moment before that last note. I wonder if the band is behind him making gestures to each other about going out for a smoke while they wait. It's the ultimate foreplay -- he stops and looks all around and his eyes are saying, "Do you want it? Show me that you want it." I have it captured in photos this time. Invisible. Was. Awesome. This is the one part of the show he lives for. Although he was wearing another horrendously long and ugly jersey, the man was pure sex even then. He started with the front tucked in. One of the earliest tugs partly untucked the front, and as he stalked across the stage he ripped it out the rest of the way with one take-that yank. The shirt-tugging was less violent but intensely sensual, rubbing, clutching, self-pleasuring. His movements have become more masculine, more confident, less boucy and more -- well, FERAL. He seems five years older and more experienced than when I saw him last. There were places in the song where he would combine the hand on the shirt with a lean to the front or the side, one foot slightly off the ground, as if he were almost thrusting himself up against an invisible (hee) partner. If no one is getting a piece of that action in real life, it's a crying shame. And I'm crying. At the end of Invisible, Clay mentioned that the tour would be ending soon, only two more shows, and then blahblahblah your-show-you-put-us-here-70,000-people-one-American-Idol-Ruben-Studdard. Interestingly, no Ruuuuuuben. We flew without wings. I dozed. Near the end of the show, Clay finally looked right in my direction. Churchmouse is sure he was looking at her, I thought he might have looked at me, whatever. There seemed to be an instant of eye contact. If he WAS looking at me, it was undoubtedly because of the goofy slobbering open-mouthed grin on my face. "I luuuuuve you, Claaaaaaay! Look at MEEEEEE, Claaaaay!" An interesting observation: some people have posted about Clay making or not making eye contact. What I saw in Sacramento is that he does make a lot of eye contact while he is SINGING. He often looks directly at people. acknowledges signs, waves and winks. When he's singing, he's safe; he has a job to do, he can acknowlege someone and move on. But when he finishes singing and begins to talk, especially if he is alone onstage, he carefully avoids looking directly at the people who are in the closest seats. I think he feels more vulnerable when not singing, and this is his attempt to focus, to get a little distance from the overwhelming adulation and begging for his attention. This is something he's had to learn over the course of the tour. I want to address one thing here about the end of the show. Many board posters have expressed an opinion that Clay doesn't sing during part of GBTUSA because he doesn't like the song, doesn't agree with what it stands for, thinks it's cheesy, whatever. In my five concerts, I never really observed any evidence of this. In the four Eastern concerts, IMO, Clay seemed to be (a) resting his voice and getting those annoying earpieces out, (b) listening to the audience sing, and (c) soaking up the moment. I never saw any indication on his face that he didn't WANT to be singing the song. And last night in Sacramento, he sang the song all the way through with conviction, enthusiasm, and a happy smile, as did the audience. In fact, they threw in an encore verse of the song that I didn't remember them doing before. While I can understand how some of you may identify this song with unfortunate events or actions by politicians, I think some people are projecting their own feelings onto Clay. Clay has really given no indication of any feelings either way and as far as I can see, he treats the song just like any other in the show. If he goofs off during this song, it's no different from when he goofs off in TLIA or the BeeGees medley. Just sayin'. During the band introduction, Clay was boppin' and jivin' and jiggin' and head-snappin'. Ruben was singing "It's gettin' HOT in here", someone in the audience yelled "Take it off, Clay!" and he put his hand on his top shirt button and unbuttoned the top button, whether deliberately or accidentally I couldn't tell, revealing his white t-shirt.. Everyone SCREAMED! Clay's jaw dropped, he went "Whoa!", turned around quickly to rebutton it, just dying laughing. Ruben came over and said something about interrupting the show, "Mr. Clay 'Chippendale' Aiken". It was hysterical. Of course, he had a white t-shirt underneath the shirt, so I don't know what the big EMBARRASSMENT was all about. The funniest part is that everyone was watching CLAY while Ruben is introducing the band! After we cleared the auditorium, there was a crowd waiting by the buses, which were out in the open but roped off. After much waiting and chanting of "Clay! Clay! Clay!", he finally came out, walking between security guards and waving. He was wearing an orange shirt, I think. Something orange. He got on the bus and they closed the door. For quite a while, a bunch of hoochies were behind the bus, screaming for Clay to come out. It was quite disgusting. These are the fans he gracefully calls "energetic", I guess. I hope he knows we're not all that rude and obnoxious. While I was waiting to see Clay, KimberMe got off the bus and came right over to the rope to sign autographs. She was the only one who did. I didn't have anything for her to sign, but I asked if she remembered her armadillo (I gave it to her in Philly), and her face lit up and she said "Yes! I still have it on the bus!" and she stuck out her hand to shake mine. Well, it was an Idol moment, anyway. Maybe I'm really supposed to be a Kim fan. Epilog The buses headed out for San Jose, so we followed. I tore out in front of the buses at 85 mph. (They were doing 70.) I thought if we could gain about fifteen minutes on them, we could stop in Alameda to let Maggie and zeusdog off, then intercept them again on the freeway. (Hmmm, remember that lost driver's license?) Alas, my plan was foiled -- apparently they took a different route and we never saw them again, despite backtracking and driving at 40mph for a while. I guess I won't be getting that surveillance job any time soon. We got back to San Jose at 2:30 a.m. and I was too tired to care that I won't be able to report where the Idols are staying in San Jose. But my money's on the Westin. Two to go! |
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