Sticks and Picks

Sticks

Okay, so if you got me into a dark corner of a bar and supplied me with a vodka tonic or two, I’d probably admit that the one memorabilia item I don’t have but would really LOVE, is just one of Roger’s drumsticks. Whoops. Turns out I don’t need a vodka tonic at all today for a true confession.

It is true, I don’t have a drumstick, much less a pair. There’s not really any specific reason for this, except that I don’t plan in advance. I don’t think about carrying a sign or making some sort of overture so that Roger might even consider throwing one my way. Well, that’s not true…exactly. I did have a sign once, and he did throw one, but that’s another story I’ve told too many times now. Regardless, I don’t own one and yeah, I’d really love one. I tried convincing myself I didn’t need one…and I really don’t….but… Need and want are still two different things, right? I have friends who tell the story of how they were in the front, and when Roger came out, they’d make eye contact and mouth “sticks” or something. Maybe they’d hold up a sign at an opportune moment?

Well, I’m going to tell the truth. All thoughts leave my head when the band comes on stage. All I think about is the music. If the concert is good (and aren’t they always??), I don’t think about a single damn thing other than the music. Those precious moments are a blessing. My mind goes clear, and I am lucky to remember my name, much less anything else.

That said, I love seeing other people get the sticks. I suppose it might seem like jealousy would be the obvious emotion, but weirdly, I’m not. I’m just happy to see other people happy. I think joy and happiness can be contagious. In my mind, it’s much nicer to spread those emotions, than it is to feel jealous.

But, there was that one time I did remember to ask for something!

Picks

Amanda and I had been lucky enough to get to the front row at one of the All You Need is Now shows. I can still remember the feeling of the mixture of pure adrenaline and vodka it took to stand right in front of Dom’s microphone that night and look up at him. Weirdly, it made me incredibly nervous and even more self-conscious. I forced myself to not care about anything than the music, and enjoying every single moment that night. Then, at the end of the show, I asked him for a guitar pick. He flicked it towards me, and, thank goodness for reflexes, I reached out and caught it.

I can’t really explain this in terms that will make sense to anyone but maybe Amanda (she knows me well), but it is miraculous I was able to catch it. My hands don’t always do what is requested of them by my brain, not to mention how nervous I was at the time. But, I caught it.

Then, Micky, his guitar tech, came out to break down his microphone, saw me still standing there attempting to absorb what had just happened. (I was stunned speechless and didn’t feel like I could even move. That NEVER happens) He grabbed all of the unused picks off of Dom’s microphone and threw them at me. I don’t even think I moved as the picks sprinkled down around me. My fist was gripping the very pick Dom had used throughout the show, and I moved my hand down to carefully push it far down in to the front pocket of my denim jeans.

I don’t remember much after that, other than my dear friend Alana. (If you can read this from Heaven, I miss our Twitter chats, my friend.) She leaned down and whispered in my ear that she had a couple if I didn’t already catch one. I had already gotten the one that Dom flicked to me, so I was good, and told her so. I didn’t need fifty picks, just the one Dom gave me. That moment serves at not only being a really nice memory of Dom, but also a few of the very kindest people I’ve ever met as a result of this band.

I hope this memory never leaves my heart. -R