My very first concert was Led Zeppelin.
Didn't know them, didn't know rock'n'roll other than the Partridge Family Christmas Album, yet they were the IN band and Carrie and I bought tickets to see them at Seattle's Kingdome...circa 75, 76...it was so long ago, but what an adventure, a trip arranged by a local radio station, the bus transport, tickets, immigration, everything. It was so easy back then.
We wanted to be like Annie Leibovitz, taking pictures with our Nikon cameras, stills of our favorite rockstars, behind the scenes, priviledged, backstage pass carrying groupies, which we had to fight and claw our way to the front of each stage, being crushed and trampled to capture every picture we took, every memory of our youth momentarily infused in song.
We had heads-up on an up and coming band 
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, but we were too young at the time to enter into a drinking-licensed establishment such as the Commodore Ballroom in Vancouver, boosting a 1,000 person capacity.
We make-up'd our faces, dressed in high heels and wore halter-tops, thank God Carrie was almost 6 feet high, as we stood in the line to enter the Ballroom I'm feeling frantic, terrified of embarrassment in not having proper ID, being turned away into the belly of Granville Street. Lost. A Juvenille. I remember my dad saying 'where did my little girl go' as I dressed up to see Tom Petty and stood in front of my parent's dresser mirror, using my mom's makeup, and all I wanted to say was, it's pretend. I'm pretending.
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, but we were too young at the time to enter into a drinking-licensed establishment such as the Commodore Ballroom in Vancouver, boosting a 1,000 person capacity.We make-up'd our faces, dressed in high heels and wore halter-tops, thank God Carrie was almost 6 feet high, as we stood in the line to enter the Ballroom I'm feeling frantic, terrified of embarrassment in not having proper ID, being turned away into the belly of Granville Street. Lost. A Juvenille. I remember my dad saying 'where did my little girl go' as I dressed up to see Tom Petty and stood in front of my parent's dresser mirror, using my mom's makeup, and all I wanted to say was, it's pretend. I'm pretending.
Today, I can honestly boost I single-handedly, with another 999 people, bolstered Tom Petty's career, because if you can't make it in Vancouver, you can't make it anywhere.
We met Queen at the Bayshore Inn. 
We booked a room in the tower where Howard Hughes stayed and because apparently it's the best portion of the hotel overlooking Vancouver Harbour
which didn't phase us one bit, when you're 17 and hunting down rockstars we just wanted to be where Queen existed.
We booked a room in the tower where Howard Hughes stayed and because apparently it's the best portion of the hotel overlooking Vancouver Harbour
which didn't phase us one bit, when you're 17 and hunting down rockstars we just wanted to be where Queen existed.
Carrie loved Brian May and I loved Roger Taylor. 
Linda loved the Bay City Rollers, my sister loved Elton John. And that was final...we lived and breathed these men, in fantasies, in hopes and dreams, in hotel lodgings and record purchases, as we strived to achieve closeness, much more than any other fan would ever take, as we pronounce ourselves "Number One Fans".
Linda loved the Bay City Rollers, my sister loved Elton John. And that was final...we lived and breathed these men, in fantasies, in hopes and dreams, in hotel lodgings and record purchases, as we strived to achieve closeness, much more than any other fan would ever take, as we pronounce ourselves "Number One Fans".
I sat in the Bayshore Inn Hotel, in an enclave removed from the main lobby, one that entered into the yacht club and marina, isolated in the late afternoon of sea. We all were anxiously awaiting the Queen concert, hoping to spy our lovers in the lobby, in the restaurant, anywhere.
Alone, waiting for the girls to join me, I saw him approach the elevator nearby. It's Roger. And it's not the first time we've met.....I've bothered him previously for a picture and an autograph, but this time I'm flabbergasted by his fur coat and fluffy blonde hair, his presence.
I rush and gush as any 'number one fan' would and ask for a picture. As the elevator door opens, he enters, then motions for me to enter with him.
I am so fucking scared I don't know what to do or think. It seems like an eternity before the elevator doors close, as I am frozen stiff in disbelief and inexperience and flashbacks of my dad wondering where his little girl went, and I'm not ready....despite the romance of it all, I'm not ready. I'm just a kid with a camera.
The door shuts and Roger shrugs his shoulders, okay.
I had a long leather coat, one I constantly wore, through high school, trips to Italy and England, concert mad-dashes to stage fronts, a garment that made me feel special, pretty, glamorous. 
A few years back my niece was elected to be in an "all-girl" band, supposedly up and coming, so I gave her my coat for rockstar luck, this coat I had hidden in my closet, hiding yesterdays of Tom Petty and Roger of Queen, hoping it would regain purpose some day.
A few years back my niece was elected to be in an "all-girl" band, supposedly up and coming, so I gave her my coat for rockstar luck, this coat I had hidden in my closet, hiding yesterdays of Tom Petty and Roger of Queen, hoping it would regain purpose some day.
She became an actress instead. And I wish I had my coat back. I miss Roger.
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