Having become a huge fan of Color Me Badd’s music, I really wanted to see them in person. I called their record label in L.A., Giant Records, and the woman who took care of their scheduling was really nice in giving me their tour info. Since they were relatively new they didn’t headline many of their own concerts, and some of their dates were unclear. They were starting to open for Paula Abdul, and although she was scheduled to come through Minneapolis it wasn’t guaranteed that C.M.B would be accompanying her. I decided to risk it and go ahead and buy a ticket to the show, but then found out that the tickets had already been selling. So I searched the newspapers and the closest seat I could find was in the thirteenth row.
Fortunately they ended up being Paula’s opening act in Minneapolis. I took an extra hundred bucks to the concert hoping I could bribe security to let me go back stage to meet them, but as I looked around and saw how strict they looked I chickened out. Back then I was still pretty shy with some things, and didn’t want to risk the possibility of being thrown out.
It was a surreal moment when those guys came out on stage. I was always listening to them on my walkman, and now there they were, thirteen rows in front of me with their perfect harmony.
I can’t tell you how frustrating it is to be so close yet so far to someone who inspires you. When all you want is to have a few minutes of their time, but since you’re not a groupie with a hiked-up skirt you don’t have a chance in hell. Not to say Mark, Bryan, Kevin and Sam were these types of guys, but there are people whose job is to stand between you and the talent. Of course these people are needed, but if many are going to grant special privilege to the hotties, it would be nice to show some kindness to someone who’s there purely for the music. It’s those types of people that are going to be around for an artist’s entire career, not a fad chaser.
So anyway, I walked away from that concert inspired but unfulfilled. That inspiration got me thinking how much I’ve always loved music, and how amazing it would be to actually be a singer. So with the goal of wanting to be the next Bryan Abrams, I sought out a vocal coach.
I ended up coming across a woman named Pat who had an opera background. During our initial meeting I found out that she knew of C.M.B, and after telling her my aspirations she enlightened me that a good singer can sing any genre. She really seemed legit with her long-listed resume, so I began lessons with her at thirty dollars an hour. Yeah, pretty pricey, especially for a teenager, but I wanted to be a singer more than anything, so I went to my lessons twice a week. We’d mainly go up and down the scale of the piano, as I was to try to match the sound I heard. I looked forward to the day I could start singing C.M.B songs!
Back at BK I couldn’t suppress the hopeless romantic in me and started to develop an attraction towards one of the shift managers there, Stephanie. She was a sweet looking nineteen-year-old Caucasian girl who I thought just might be the type of girl I had been holding out for.
She was about two or three years older than me and already out of high school, so this didn’t help my confidence level. I’d mostly admire from afar, making sure none of it showed. Sometimes the whole closing crew would go out after work to an all-night bowling alley, then go eat breakfast at dawn before going home to sleep.
I tried getting to know her better with a question here, a comment there, but I know it must have been so subtle that it probably came across as everyday chit-chat. I did learn one thing about her. She had a major crush on Michael J. Fox, and even had a puck from a celebrity hockey game he had played in.
This wasn’t encouraging though, because I looked nothing like him. Ironically, his wife looks like she could be Stephanie’s sister!
Since the vocal lessons started making quite a dent in my cash flow I decided to take on additional work. A part time job as an usher for Simms security. We normally got to choose which events we wanted to work, and due to my already busy schedule I chose the football games at The Metrodome. The first couple were college games, then came an NFL Monday Night Football Game. I had the opportunity to obtain a complimentary ticket and I knew just who I wanted to give it to. The one who had always been the big football fan in our family…
Chino.
He was real excited for the game and couldn’t believe he was there in person. I really wished the Cowboys would have been scheduled to play, because that’s his life-long team, but he was pretty impressed with The Bears nonetheless. “Look, three'‘s The Frig. And Ditka!”
I was happy for him.
Simms Security covered concerts as well, and I’ll never forget the reaction of the employees back at the main office when it was announced that some band nobody ever heard of would be having a concert in a couple of weeks.
“Red Hot Chili Peppers?” they asked. “Who’s that?”
I didn’t sign up for it because of my other job, but looking back on it now, of course I wish I would have. But yeah, I think it’s great how far the Chili Peppers have come. They’re truly amazing.
The only other pro football game I worked was one every employee was needed for due to its size. Yep, the 1992 Super Bowl was there in Minneapolis. This was one event I couldn’t get a ticket for. Sorry bro.
All employees had to arrive early that morning, and after an hour long meeting we were assigned our areas. Although the game had a lot of celebrities in attendance, the only one I saw besides the beautiful half-time talent, Gloria Estefan, was Muhammad Ali. Parkinson’s had already taken quite a toll on him
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