so look yall, theres been a big mistake. after 4 years of waiting patiently for Aerosmith to come down from their towers of ivory and french ticklers, i have received some tragic news. while reading over the list of recently announced tour dates for 2009, i saw that the show for atlanta was scheduled on july 15th, the night of my 24th birthday. what luck! what chance! what beauty! you might say. but there's more to it than that. Fortuna, that cruel, wanton lady of pointed fickleness, has sideswiped me. while aerosmith in my home town for my 24th birthday may be the sweetness that my dreams are made of, it is not to be. i, eleanor, will not be in atlanta on the 15th of july. as it stands, it is an impossibility. i am on the other side of the pond; i may as well be on the other side of the moon. yes, the dark side. i feel like i have, as they say, been hit by a fuck.
after a brief bout of depression, denial, and outright rage, i came to a sudden calm. there is something to this, i just know it. i'm not one to doubt the stars and their alignment, and i'm not one to ignore obvious fuckwittage for what it may possibly be: a sign, a chance to move and shake, take note.
For years now, since the tender age of 12, my heart has belonged to those toxic boys from boston. my heart, in particular, has belonged to joe perry. for years now, and many a time, people have asked me: why?
there are thousands of answers i can give to that question. thousands.
like what happened to my heart the first time i saw the 1975 photo of joe perry after he had been bitten by Evil Ellisa, a bandage over his sweet chin, a pout on his face to sum up saddness, tenderness, drunken brawls. this picture broke my heart, and for the first time i wanted to take a lover, i wanted to nurture, hold, scratch, make love, and apply bandaids afterwards, if need be. i cut that picture out of the book (Walk This Way: an autobiography, which i have read 7 times) and have carried it on my person ever since.
another answer could be the way it felt when i was 16 to sit in a fiery red pontiac with my best friend and push play on the CD player, starting Sweet Emotion just as we hit that first curve...so that by the time second :35 came around and the vocals came through, full blast through the speakers, we'd be right there, at the dip in the road, 60 miles an hour and flying through the air. we had it timed out perfectly.
Maybe its because they could sum up love in words and experiences that werent available to us when we were young. The first true love letter i ever received was graced at the end with this quote:
"The buzz you be gettin' from the crack don't last; i'd rather be O.D.in' on the crack of her ass."
i mean, if thats not romance at 17, i dont know what is.
and this one time...steven tyler sweated on me. you know why? cause he was ROCKING OUT.
however, for those dim enough to lack the understanding and awareness of how FUCKING AWESOME aerosmith is, for those dim enough TO NEED TO EVEN ASK, i feel no need to respond with any more than: because i love them, ok?
so, what then.
after considering my options, after considering the universe as a whole and the way this world works and the way my life has been going and blowing on a couple of dandilions and considering the light and the heat, the solution to this seems obvious. simple. fantastic.
i need to talk to joe perry. tell him whats up, explain the situation, the rub, the problem, the obvious miscommunication between my life path and their tour dates, and see if we cant work something out. because, i mean, why not?
those boys have a rollercoaster. a Wii game. i just ate my lunch out of a vending machine. if i had millions of dollars, i'd get my ass to atlanta for that show, no sweat. done and done. unfortunately, i am not a millionaire. nor do i own my own plane, boat, or submarine. floo powder is not real, and anyway, chimneys big enough to stand in are hard to come by in italy. by all laws of physics, i cannot transport myself there by means of mental willingness, concentration, or desire. if i could, i would. the only option, therefore, is to ask my boys a favor. it will be my birthday, after all.
so this is what i plan to do, what i plan to ask joe perry for: a plane ticket home to see him play in atlanta on the night of my 24th birthday. when you really think about it, is that so much?
what i need from you, friends and family, is contacts. numbers, names, ideas...any way that you might know of for me to reach joe perry or anyone related to aerosmith. i have less than a month.
thank you for your help, and remember: the light at the end of the tunnel...may be you. good night.
eleanor g. parker
2 comments:
good luck sweetheart! I admire your dedication. I remember taking you to an Aerosmith concert at Lakewood. . . and picking you and your friends up when it was over. You were 16 but I didn't want you to drive into Atlanta.
It's getting really, really hot here! I'm heading to the NC mountains for a few days. Have fun in Slovenia!!
xoxoxo
Although I think this is mildly nutty...I admit I do feel this way about some artists so if I were you, I would e-mail the kind people at Q100. They love to talk to people over seas and they love fun stories, so why not give it a try and see what they can do for you.
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