Star Trek

If you could have dinner with any three people, who would they be?

I’ve always loved that question.

Honestly, I’ve never put my list together, but I love the possibilities.

Some more obvious than others.

Abraham Lincoln, John Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr.

Obvious.

Buddy Holly, Jackie Robinson, John Steinbeck.

Not so much.

Robert DeNiro, Mel Brooks, Lucille Ball.

Order an extra dessert. 

I’m not sure which three it would be.

But I’m pretty sure it would include someone from sports, someone from politics and definitely someone from music.

Or maybe all three would be from the music world, as long as they brought their guitars.

But as much fun as it might be to meet one of my heroes, it is also something that I’m totally ok if it never happens.

Just imagine if you met your idol and he or she was a jerk.

I’ve never met Bono or Dylan or Madonna.

And it’s probably better that way.

It’s definitely better for them.

My friend David met Bruce Springsteen at a bar in LA.

And Bruce was.... great.

David has a picture of the two of them in his living room.

My other friend David delivered pizza to Wayne Gretzky’s house.

And he got a signed pizza box.

And a nice tip.

Sunday I got a chance to meet one of my musical heroes.

Up close and personal.

For at least five seconds.

More on that in a moment.

With my family in town this weekend, we did quite a bit of traveling around Manhattan.

They wanted to see Times Square and the Empire State Building and of course, FAO Schwarz.

Check, check and check.

Sunday, our big stop was a meal in Little Italy.

So we took the E train to Spring Street.

It was about a ten-minute walk through SoHo to get to the world famous Mulberry Street.

Along the way, we did some window shopping and food cart smelling.

As we approached a main intersection, we noticed a group of five singers and a stand-up bass player making some incredible noise.

From the caddy corner, we could hear them singing, “The Lion Sleeps Tonight,” loud and VERY clear.

A song, my seven-year old was hoping to hear on Broadway at the stage version of The Lion King.

“Um, sweetie, how about if we hear five strangers singing the same song on a street corner instead?”

For free.

So we followed our ears and headed that way.

We heard them sing that song and about five others, dropping some appreciation in the tip jar along the way.

Midway through the set, a lady walked right up next to us.

Within a beat or two, she started singing to the music.

Well, actually whispering to the music.

As if she didn’t want to be heard.

And based on the baseball cap pulled down over her eyes.

And the sunglasses covering them.

She didn’t want to be seen either.

Sorry ma’am, if you’re trying to fly under the radar, you’ve just landed on the wrong runway.

I looked over, about five times, then whispered to my wife...

“That’s Melissa Etheridge.”

Now that may not be a big deal to you.

And if it is not, you’ve never heard her music.

“Yes I Am” is one of the greatest CDs of the 90’s.

“Like The Way I Do,” is one of the most powerful songs in the last 25 years.

I own all of her records.  

I’ve seen her in concert several times.  

I have been inspired by her more than several times.

But I wasn’t about to be that guy.

She clearly didn’t want to be recognized.

So I didn’t recognize her.

Until she started walking down the street, away from the crowd.

That’s when I walked up right behind her and mumbled, “Melissa?”

She turned and said, “Yes.”

“Melissa, I just want to thank you for your music.   You have truly inspired me,” I said.

“Thank you.  What is your name?”

OMG.

Melissa Etheridge just asked me my name.

What the hell do I say?

After what felt like a long pause to me, I told her my name.

She then shook my hand and informed me that it was nice for her to meet me.

It was nice for HER to meet ME?

Honestly, I could care less if that exact line came from page 93 of the “How Celebrities Should Deal with Stalkers” handbook.

Melissa Etheridge just shook MY hand and said it was nice to meet me.

How cool.

Sitting here now, several hours later, I have about four million things I could have said. 

But about one milli-second after she let go of my hand, she went her way and I went mine.

That was it.

My family came up to me seconds later and asked how it went.

“Great,” I said.  “I now have a blog for today...”

...And a moment I will never forget.