I've done the unthinkable. Well, more like the unthinkable for me.
I broke one of my cardinal rules and asked a guy out on a date.
Now, granted, I knew it was a long shot, but this man is dashing, debonair, and frankly, delightful to talk to. Plus, he can sing. And I mean, like, really sing. (Sigh.)
I was on pins and needles waiting for him to call. And then, when he called before I expected and left a message apologizing that he'd missed me, I had to forward the voicemail to several friends for analysis. (You know how that goes.)
When we finally did connect live and in person, there were so many other things to talk about, legitimate reasons for the call, you know, that it was hard to get to the point.
I've gotta say, after this, I have a newfound respect for men. It's really hard to slip a personal invitation into casual conversation without appearing desparate or possibly mental, on top of which, once you do manage to stammer it out, it's hard to convince the person on the end of the line you're actually serious.
Especially when that person is a celebrity the likes of Johnny Mathis.
Yes, that Johnny Mathis. Mr. "Chances Are ... your chances are awfully good" or, as it appears in my case, Mr. "Chances Are ... your chances remain to be seen."
See, Johnny Mathis is going to be singing at the Shell next Friday as part of his 50th Anniversary Tour. And the task of reporting on that appearance fell to me. As you might guess, odds of landing an interview with a well-known musical artist are pretty long to begin with, but somehow I beat those odds. And while most of what you have and/or will read in this posting will seem to completely contradict the last comment I made about the Shell's lineup this year, I reserve the right to make an exception to my own initial rule(s) of thought. (I'm a female; I'm allowed.) Besides, I've liked his music ever since my late paternal grandfather passed down his vinyl LP of Johnny's "Merry Christmas" album back in the day. (The Dewey family Christmas would not have been the same without that record.)
Anyway, in the process of preparation for the interview, I and a few other Messenger staffers observed Johnny Mathis used to have quite a tradition of sightseeing at whatever area he visited to get a bit of a flavor of the community there. So another co-worker virtually dared me to ask him if he'd like to come get ice cream (at Shark's Custard and Candy, naturally) when he's in town. Given that I generally respond promptly to similar dares --"Hey Rachel, will you go ask [our executive editor] if he'll spring for pizza?" -- it should come as no surprise I took her up on it. I mean, what the heck? It's not like this chance was coming around again, plus I am proud of my little tradition of showing Shark's off to visiting friends.
For a musical celebrity however, you've gotta have a Plan B for a date, which in this case is the new Wine and Culinary Center in town. (Personally, I think chances are a little better for that option, given Mr. Mathis enjoys gourmet cooking in his spare time.) Frankly, when asking a celebrity out, you've also gotta have a Plan B for the invitiation itself (Remember that whole "convince them you're serious without appearing mental" struggle?). In this case, that means my fax detailing the "taste-seeing" invitation is now sitting somewhere in a stack of communiques Mr. Mathis is scheduled to review. Right now, I'm just happy it's gotten through in one piece (or so one of his assistant/managers tells me.)
The other thing that makes this whole scenario unique is that the date itself, should it ever take place, won't be your conventional "date" either. No, in the realm of celebrity dating, ReD Zone style, my date with Johnny Mathis will actually be a group date, as five of my fellow reporters (we're all female) hope to tag along. Plus, despite the appearance of safety in numbers, I'm sure his manager, publicist, and probably a photographer (maybe one of ours?) would insist on coming too. So it's not just me who's left to take a wait-and-see approach. It's nearly every staffer with a cubicle in what we've affectionately dubbed "Reporters' Row."
Stay tuned and I'll let you know exactly what my (ok, our) Chances Are ...!!!
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