[I told you Vancouver was a high-class affair. Tiaras mandatory! L-R: Heidi, Dolly, Tosh, Steph and Laurie, who has never looked happier ;o) ]It is a real struggle to stay awake as the plane readies for taxi. My head throbs, my body aches, and my right calf in particular threatens to seize back into a Charlie horse at any moment.
Sleep after the concert was brief and interspersed with unsettling images. Lights out at 2:41 a.m. with leg cramps starting around 4. I eased myself (i.e. fell gracefully) out of bed to avoid disturbing my bunkmate. I clutched in desperation as my muscles spasmed. At six I awoke certain I was about to throw up the pancakes from the Hurricane Café a few hours earlier. Gratefully, the feeling passed, soon to be replaced by a migraine.
[Several adorable pictures of Chris with his kids onstage follow...]
“No leg cramps!” said a relieved Tosh as she greeted me in the morning. Still cradling my lower leg in my hands, she nodded at me. “Start cramping and your body’s telling you something.” I was listening—it had definitely grabbed my attention. I limped to the bathroom.
The ride to the airport was a blur. The driver snapped tersely at dispatch that the Sheraton had refused to let him unload and he would not be attempting that stop again. Meanwhile, one passenger snapped photos of the city as our monstrous bus weaved through the narrow downtown streets during rush hour. I realized that the only picture in my camera—after everything that had happened and everyone I had met—was a shot of the Fetish Fashion shop located just east of my hotel. My much-anticipated picture with Chris Cornell and the band waited patiently in one of my new friends’ camera. I was still feeling the idiot for flashing rabbit ears behind Chris’ head as the first flash went off. Have you ever been possessed by a ridiculous urge and found it happening before you could stop it? That is the story of my life. I behaved for the second picture, with the exception of daring to rest my hand on Chris’ back for one electric second. Every time I think of being so close to him I start shaking my head in disbelief.
I shake myself awake as our wheels leave the tarmac. Remembering talking to Chris’ wife Vicky after the show. A beautiful bronze-skinned waif. She wore an olive green, short-waisted turtle neck over a black mini-skirt that revealed how tiny she truly is. Tall black boots. Her mother, with the same waifish figure and cascading curls the color of coffee with just a dash of milk, appears a bit later, after we had met the band. As we had watched her with Vicky and the children on the side of the stage we had assumed she was Vicky’s sister—they looked nearly identical both in appearance and age. Upon being introduced to her by Vicky backstage just after the signing, we were all in disbelief. She was in Seattle to take the kids back to Paris, with Vicky to follow sometime after. We had no time to react as Chris walked up to Vicky and gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders to walk out with her. “You need rest,” he said. Who were we to argue?
As we had waited our turn to greet Chris and the band, we all told Vicky how much we enjoyed watching the kids—Toni, 3 years old and Chris Jr., 21 months—interact with Chris on stage. Their love and affection for each other is overwhelming. Chris Jr. wore an oversized black T-shirt with Black Hole “Son” in large white letters, while Toni wore a mocha smock over jeans and glittering tennis shoes. As usual, both children wore state-of-the-art noise-blocking headphones yet danced non-stop to the beat they couldn’t help but feel. Toni smiled and waved at her dad throughout, and after coming downstage to help him sing Hunger Strike, she turned frequently to wave to us in the front row, still all smiles.
As the kids danced at his feet, Chris joked about how difficult it was to steal baby Chris’ attention from drummer Jason. At one point he moved himself between little Chris and Jason’s drum set and tried to recapture his attention by flipping the mic stand to the floor and back with his foot, but succeeded only in nearly beaning Toni with it by accident. “I guess Daddy isn’t as cool as he thinks he is,” said Chris. Throughout it all, baby Chris strained to look around his dad to get a better view of Jason, who further amused him by twirling a drumstick through his fingers. “Okay,” added Chris. “Daddy can’t do that.”
Meanwhile, Toni was amusing herself by trying on bracelets thrown on stage by the crowd. She tried to put one on little Chris as he remained entranced by Jason’s Ludwigs. Later, Vicky told us that Toni stages her very own rock shows with her play microphone, while Chris Jr. is a big fan of and YouTube video that features him as a guest star.
As we approached 25,000 feet, I lose my battle and fall asleep, not waking again until I hear the announcement three and a half hours later that we are preparing to land. Safe to say I slept Like A Stone.
Sleep after the concert was brief and interspersed with unsettling images. Lights out at 2:41 a.m. with leg cramps starting around 4. I eased myself (i.e. fell gracefully) out of bed to avoid disturbing my bunkmate. I clutched in desperation as my muscles spasmed. At six I awoke certain I was about to throw up the pancakes from the Hurricane Café a few hours earlier. Gratefully, the feeling passed, soon to be replaced by a migraine.
[Several adorable pictures of Chris with his kids onstage follow...]
“No leg cramps!” said a relieved Tosh as she greeted me in the morning. Still cradling my lower leg in my hands, she nodded at me. “Start cramping and your body’s telling you something.” I was listening—it had definitely grabbed my attention. I limped to the bathroom.
The ride to the airport was a blur. The driver snapped tersely at dispatch that the Sheraton had refused to let him unload and he would not be attempting that stop again. Meanwhile, one passenger snapped photos of the city as our monstrous bus weaved through the narrow downtown streets during rush hour. I realized that the only picture in my camera—after everything that had happened and everyone I had met—was a shot of the Fetish Fashion shop located just east of my hotel. My much-anticipated picture with Chris Cornell and the band waited patiently in one of my new friends’ camera. I was still feeling the idiot for flashing rabbit ears behind Chris’ head as the first flash went off. Have you ever been possessed by a ridiculous urge and found it happening before you could stop it? That is the story of my life. I behaved for the second picture, with the exception of daring to rest my hand on Chris’ back for one electric second. Every time I think of being so close to him I start shaking my head in disbelief.
I shake myself awake as our wheels leave the tarmac. Remembering talking to Chris’ wife Vicky after the show. A beautiful bronze-skinned waif. She wore an olive green, short-waisted turtle neck over a black mini-skirt that revealed how tiny she truly is. Tall black boots. Her mother, with the same waifish figure and cascading curls the color of coffee with just a dash of milk, appears a bit later, after we had met the band. As we had watched her with Vicky and the children on the side of the stage we had assumed she was Vicky’s sister—they looked nearly identical both in appearance and age. Upon being introduced to her by Vicky backstage just after the signing, we were all in disbelief. She was in Seattle to take the kids back to Paris, with Vicky to follow sometime after. We had no time to react as Chris walked up to Vicky and gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders to walk out with her. “You need rest,” he said. Who were we to argue?
As we had waited our turn to greet Chris and the band, we all told Vicky how much we enjoyed watching the kids—Toni, 3 years old and Chris Jr., 21 months—interact with Chris on stage. Their love and affection for each other is overwhelming. Chris Jr. wore an oversized black T-shirt with Black Hole “Son” in large white letters, while Toni wore a mocha smock over jeans and glittering tennis shoes. As usual, both children wore state-of-the-art noise-blocking headphones yet danced non-stop to the beat they couldn’t help but feel. Toni smiled and waved at her dad throughout, and after coming downstage to help him sing Hunger Strike, she turned frequently to wave to us in the front row, still all smiles.
As the kids danced at his feet, Chris joked about how difficult it was to steal baby Chris’ attention from drummer Jason. At one point he moved himself between little Chris and Jason’s drum set and tried to recapture his attention by flipping the mic stand to the floor and back with his foot, but succeeded only in nearly beaning Toni with it by accident. “I guess Daddy isn’t as cool as he thinks he is,” said Chris. Throughout it all, baby Chris strained to look around his dad to get a better view of Jason, who further amused him by twirling a drumstick through his fingers. “Okay,” added Chris. “Daddy can’t do that.”
Meanwhile, Toni was amusing herself by trying on bracelets thrown on stage by the crowd. She tried to put one on little Chris as he remained entranced by Jason’s Ludwigs. Later, Vicky told us that Toni stages her very own rock shows with her play microphone, while Chris Jr. is a big fan of and YouTube video that features him as a guest star.
As we approached 25,000 feet, I lose my battle and fall asleep, not waking again until I hear the announcement three and a half hours later that we are preparing to land. Safe to say I slept Like A Stone.
1 comment:
Heh heh hehe, yeah, Laurie has NEVER looked happier than that! LOL! Not even backstage with Chris!!!
Great stuff about meeting Vicky and recounting the kids onstage. That was so sweet, I just can't wipe the smile off of my face!
Steph
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