Tag Archives: The Chelsea

My Name is Rhonda, and I am an addict.

 

My name is Rhonda, and I am an addict.

On Tuesday I ran across a rumor. You may have heard or seen it yourself, although I didn’t see many people talking about it. Apparently word was out that Duran had plans to play at The Cosmopolitan in Las Vegas on December 30th. Like many of you, I rolled my eyes. Sure they were coming all the way back here again this year, I thought. Definitely. Just as soon as they send me a personal invite.

I put down my phone and began my typical morning tasks: coffee, feeding my zoo, and getting myself to work in a timely manner. I begin thinking about this rumor more and more as I finish greeting students at our gate in the morning and walk back to my “office”(which is actually a library and I sit at a folding table…which is the OPPOSITE of glamorous).

They couldn’t possibly come back again, right? Even IF they are, there’s no way I’m going. After all, its New Years. I can’t see them playing one show. One show? That’s dumb! It’s so much hassle to bring equipment here… Nah, I can’t see it. And even IF this is true, there’s no way I’m mentioning this to Walt. He’s at his wit’s end with this stupid band as it is. 

I get on to attendance, clearing out old files, and setting up new students in my system. It is kind of slow day, the first I’ve really had this school year, which is weird.  I decide to send Amanda a text, because yes – I am an addict.

I hesitate to use the words “Duranie Alert” in my text because A. it’s just a rumor, no matter how solid my friend thinks it is,  and B. that’s like pulling the fire alarm when there’s not really a fire. It seems funny to watch everyone scramble at the time, but in the end, somebody is sitting in the principal’s office and the next time you really NEED to sound the alarm, maybe no one will respond. So, I just tell her what I know. I suspect she takes extra long to answer because she’s laughing at the very thought of this show seriously happening, (not at all because she’s actually trying to do her job or something, right??)  I know better than to think she’d actually believe such a thing. I mean, it’s ridiculous, right?

She sends back a text, saying that if it’s true, we should go.

Go? What do you mean, GO? It’s the freaking holidays, Amanda! Have you lost your mind?!? There’s no way. 

Then I think back to last November. She made plans to go to Maryland without me. It was painful, but there was no changing my husband’s mind or the lack of cash in my bank account then. This year isn’t a ton different, but if they were playing in Vegas, I might be able to just drive. I mean, it’s only four hours. What’s four hours? Nothing, when you’re an addict.

No. There’s no way. We’re paying for both kids to go to school. Money is always tight around the holidays. Besides, we don’t even know if they’re really playing!! 

So I do what any normal person might. I break the news to my husband over dinner. Poor guy is in the middle of chewing when I casually mention the ridiculous rumor of Duran Duran playing on the 30th, and quickly follow the comment with “But of course I’m not going to go. I mean, that’d be crazy. I have a husband. It’s the holidays. We spend New Year’s Eve together every year…even if we don’t go anywhere or do anything and it’s really boring…..” I trail off, waiting for a declaration of war, or stony silence, which in our house, is basically the same thing.

“Would you want to go spend that time with your friends and I could just figure on doing something else?”

I pinched myself under the table to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, but he was serious. I laugh it all off, because this has to be some sort of trick question. If I say “Yes”, I’m the world’s worst spouse (probably already true). If I say “No”, then I’m stuck at home for sure. I’m also half-wondering why he’s so eager to let me go and what it means by ” doing something else”, but I let that go. 

I answer by not answering. “Let’s wait and see if this is really even a thing. It’s probably not even happening.” I roll my eyes and laugh, probably a little too nervously, and a little too heartily now that I think about it. He looks down his glasses at me, which DRIVES ME NUTS. I try not to grimace, and smile back at him.

The next morning, which is Wednesday, I get up and am greeted by a text from Amanda.

I checked hotels last night—I should not have,  but they weren’t too bad.

The plane ticket will be expensive but I won’t worry about that.

Wait, we’re at plane tickets already? We don’t even know if this show is happening!!

I answer back saying something about checking hotel prices and how that’s going to be a fortune, and mention that I’m seeing other cryptic messages from Duranies. We agree to keep a look out, and we both get back to work.  I send out a random tweet. Why? Because I’m an addict.

“TMW you start planning in advance for the thing you said you weren’t going to do yesterday.”

People “like” the tweet, which makes me smile.

I assume these people don’t realize that I’m an addict. Then again, maybe they know.  It’s fine, I know I am, too. I’ve got it perfectly under control. Totally. 

Amanda and I text throughout the day because the more I’m seeing, the more convinced I am that something is happening. That same friend who broke the news has now called The Cosmopolitan and is told that they don’t book corporate shows during that week.  Also during the day, I’ve taken the time to contact our two travel buddies and shared the rumor about the show we have no idea will happen.

One of our friends lives in Vegas and is very skeptical this show is a “thing”. Even so, she’s going to check in with some friends she knows and see if they’ve heard anything. While all of this is going on, Amanda and I have texted back and forth hundreds, if not thousands of times. Oddly, very little cursing was done. Most of it was me explaining why I simply cannot go, and then proceeding to make plans to attend. All the while Amanda is saying that she’ll believe the rumor when she sees it from DDHQ. Then we make plans on when we’ll arrive and where we’ll stay, and whether or not we think our friends are going to join us and split the cost of the room.  We divide up our in-room alcohol Costco-run, and talk about to-go cups and lids that fit. Why?  Because that’s how we roll, my friends.

Fast forward to 6:32 pm my time on Thursday night. I am sitting in a parent meeting for my daughter’s choir group. They’re planning a VERY EXPENSIVE trip to San Francisco, and we parents are being given the budget. I am sitting, furiously punching numbers into my phone calculator app, hoping to make sense of how I’m going to pay for this crazy trip. My phone rings. Loudly. It’s Amanda…and what is her ringtone?

Oh you BET it’s Planet Earth. She almost never calls, and certainly not at 6:32 pm my time. I have to decline the call, because, well…parent meeting. I know exactly why she’s calling, because my friends, I am a Duranie. I silently shake my head slowly, and try to concentrate on instructions for how to register my child for this trip. My mind, however, is wandering in the direction of the UK. My phone buzzes. It’s Amanda, texting me. I take a deep breath, knowing exactly what she’s going to say.

It is official. That show is happening.

It has been awhile since I could send an official Duranie alert. 

At first, I close my eyes and think of all the things I’d like to say to the band if they were in front of me. Some of those things are not nice, and I admit that. I love them, I hate their planning. I love that they come here, I hate that I’m funding their retirement. I love their music, I hate that I’m addicted to their live show. Well, maybe not “hate”. Strongly dislike?  Disapprove? No… I hate that their shows cost me money. That’s it!  I open my eyes, and see that yes, the meeting is still going on. Am I actually absorbing ANY of this?? Probably not. 

I put my head down and write back, because now my mind has already boarded a plane headed for England (never mind that this is a Vegas show).

I am sitting in a parent meeting for a trip where I am going to have to spend thousands. Good lord.

Eww.

That isn’t okay. 

So of course that show is happening. 

Yep.

She sends me the email she just got, which was sent to anyone who bought VIP tickets for Las Vegas on the Paper Gods tour. Basically, the email was designed to give those of us who plunked down a wad of cash to see the band before a heads up –  we’re gonna have the opportunity to do it all again.  They don’t mention venue or cost, but the date was right, and it’s happening. I read the email, even though I’m still in that parent meeting. I take a deep cleansing breath and respond to Amanda.

I am going to cry.

Of course I didn’t. But I felt like it. Sometimes, it’s hard to be Duranie. I am weak. My willpower is just, well, it’s non-existent. I’m an addict. But I’ve got it totally under control.

The following day is Friday, and it is our normal Skype conference day. Amanda and I are working on a big project – our paper that we will present in March—and so we chat nearly once a week about real things. Not shows, not gossip, just our work. Well, mostly not anything but our work. Mostly.

By the end of the four-hour Skype session, we’d booked our hotel, checked flights, and even booked an extra day so that Amanda isn’t just flying here for two days. I mean, we can’t have that, right?  We talked about what we want to do while we’re in Vegas, who we hope to see….

All for a show that we do not currently have tickets for.

We also did some work.

On Sunday morning, I checked my email. Sure enough, there’s the email from DDM, letting me know all about the show, the pre-sale on Wednesday, and that I might need to consider selling body parts in order to attend, because yes, I’m an addict.

My friend tweets that he’s hearing tickets will be $250 as a base price. VIP Ultimate Front Row is $300 plus ticket price.  That means front row will be a spendy $550.  If he is right, and I have no reason to assume he’s wrong, that’s more than Hollywood Bowl. VIP Gold – rows 2-8, will cost $150 plus ticket price, so that’s a beautiful $400.

How about blood? At this point, I’m willing to donate perfectly good blood and/or kidneys. Anyone willing to buy a husband? I’ve got one!! I might start selling my jewelry collection on eBay, too.  I mean, why not?  Could I sell some of Walt’s tools…I mean, he hardly uses them. He might not even notice! 

I’m sitting here with a couple of questions in my head. One of which is how I’m going to afford this show. The other though is that if the band and Katy already said that the Paper Gods tour is over, does that mean we’re going to get a different set at this show??

I’m an addict. Who else would write 2046 words about a show announcement? I’ve totally got it under control, though.

-R