My Big Bon Jovi Adventure

From Dresden, to NYC, to New Orleans, Back to NYC...

2011-09-14T00:42:00.000-05:00

And who doesn't want an intimate, revealing night with Zen Jon?

November 16, 2009
Alice Tully Hall
New York City, New York

You know how sometimes you have those “is it all worth it” moments, particularly when it comes to Bon Jovi? Usually they come right after you’ve spent several thousand dollars on concert tickets, right? And of course, that always seems to happen right before the holidays too (WTF is wrong with the Jovi planners any way?).

By mid-November, 2009, I was in one of those funks, particularly coming on the heels of the “secret show” in the NMS parking lot.

Of course, it wasn’t just Jovi. I was also wrestling a bear of a project at work that was taking WAY too much of my time and required me to be in Europe for the first half of November. Yep -- when they were playing the Berlin wall, I was close enough to taste the fact that I wanted to be there. Ultimately, I’m glad I wasn’t because the weather was HORRIBLE.

But news broke about the special show at NYC’s Alice Tully Hall while I was over there. At first, the details were sketchy. I was severely jet-lagged and hop-skip-jumping my way across central Europe, in and out of meetings. I had been through all the ticket melodrama just a week or so before getting my shows lined up for the spring leg of the tour and the last thing I wanted to think about was trying to get tickets for another show.

And this one was weird, because the ticket info was being tweeted by American Express since this was their event. But nevertheless, I secured seats for me and Big Apple Jen, miraculously, from my slow-ass internet connection, on my PHONE, from a cocktail party in Dresden, Germany.

Then, literally the day AFTER I returned from Germany, I was getting back on a plane to head to NYC (even though I had just flown through NYC the night before).

Yes, my life is sometimes fucked up.

Here’s how the news went over that night at home:

Me: Hey honey, I’m home...finally...

Mr. Sam: Good. These goddamn kids have been driving me crazy. I’ve ordered pizza and told them they’re going to bed early. Then it’s time for you to rub me.

Me: But babe, I’m a little jet-lagged.

Mr. Sam: I suppose I can wait until morning.

Me: About that....I’m going to New York tomorrow.

Mr. Sam: Since when?

Me: Since yesterday. It’s this long, fucked up story involving work and Twitter -- you really don’t want to hear all the details. But I’m only gonna be gone for one night.

This wasn’t really a lie. I was at work (in Germany) when I got the tickets, for which I found the information for on Twitter. Don’t judge.

Mr. Sam: One night? Let me guess. This isn’t about work. You’re going to see Jon Bon Jovi, aren’t you?

Me: I’m going to work. I swear.

And I did. I slept on a colleague’s couch AND we had an important meeting the morning after the show (during which I showed her all my JBJ pics).

So the show itself was so cool. I sort of felt like Jon Bon Jovi was chilling at my house, drinking wine from a plastic cup (why DOES he do that?), telling me and a few (hundred) friends about the WWWB documentary, singing a few songs.

I’m sure y’all have seen the YouTubes and heard the oot-bay eg-lay, but from my vantage point, it felt incredibly intimate.

Did I mention that vantage point was in the third row, almost right in front of him?

God bless the fine folks at American Express.

So long story short, JBJ TOTALLY redeemed himself for the parking lot show. And Mr. Sam finally got his rub. All’s well that ends well.

Nothing else I can say could do it justice, so here are a few pics.


Zen Jon: Seriously? "Rub" is his code word? WTF?


I just love a man who's not shy about his wine habit.

Lesson Learned: Just when you start to think to yourself, hmmmm...I could walk away from this if I wanted to...he lures you back in with a wink and a smile.

THE SET LIST:

Someday I’ll Be Saturday Night
Who Says You Can’t Go home?
Livin’ On A Prayer
Lost Highway
Whole Lot of Leavin’
Superman Tonight
We Weren’t Born To Follow
Hallelujah
Wanted Dead Or Alive

This Is Not One Of Those Shiny Happy People Blogs

2011-09-04T14:41:00.000-05:00

October 22, 2009
Secret Show at New Meadowlands Stadium
(Where the fuck is that place), New Jersey

A little insight into the current world of the Fiction Mistress: I have been trapped for the past two days in tropical storm ravaged New Orleans with two snarky, bratty, stir-crazy Samlets while Mr. Sam is off bonding with his guy friends, dove hunting in Arkansas. Flood waters are encroaching from all sides, my power is flickering, and I have resorted to letting the girls watch a Kardashian marathon just to keep them out of my hair.

Yes. BAD MOM.

So...you know those Bon Jovi blogs where no one ever has anything negative to say because everyone is so tantalized by the possibility that Jon Bon Jovi might actually run across it while he’s canoodling on the web one day and READ THEIR BLOG?

Here’s what I’d like to say to those folks.

PUT DOWN THE CRACK PIPE.

Jon Bon Jovi doesn’t spend his precious online time reading Bon Jovi fan sites! He answers email, shops, checks his stock portfolio and surfs porn, just like the rest of us. *rolls eyes*

So strap yourselves in for a little bit of negative:

I will never, ever, ever travel for a show like this again unless Jon Bon Jovi personally guarantees me that either A) they will play more than SIX FUCKING SONGS or B) I get to have oral sex with him, and I won’t be the one on my knees either.

Since B ain’t gonna happen (but hey, a girl can dream right?), then my suggestion would be the next time, if there IS a next time, they should not bill it as a “secret show,” they should bill it as a “secret show SNIPPET” because that’s what it was.

The only decent part of that day’s nonsense was the gorgeous weather and getting to see some of my Jovi girl friends, whom I hadn’t seen in a few months. Oh, and hearing We Weren’t Born To Follow live for the first time.

And yes, there was that moment when they first walked out. We were all so hungry for just a GLIMPSE of them after months of nothing that although I’ve never smoked, I imagine that the feeling was similar to that first rush of nicotine for someone who tried to quit, but couldn’t. You hate yourself for being so weak, but god damn, it feels soooo good.

But then they took their bows after SIX FUCKING SONGS. Lazy mother fuckers.

Zen Jon: Stop being such a bitch. I looked good.

Me: Yes. The Yumminess Quotient was very high. But really...SIX FUCKING SONGS?

He did pose for me a few times though.


In my next life, I want to come back as Jon Bon Jovi's Chapstick.


Or his microphone. That would work too.

And since i wasn’t one of the “video girls” yet, here’s one from Deb308. She has an amazing channel, y’all.

Next up, he redeems himself in my eyes with “An Evening with Jon Bon Jovi” at Alice Tully Hall. A little sneak peek at what's in store:

POOF! There went my panties again.

Lesson learned: Never again.

The (SIX FUCKING SONGS) Set List

Who Says You Can’t Go Home
We Weren’t Born To Follow
You Give Love A Bad Name
Wanted Dead or Alive
It’s My Life
Livin’ On a Prayer

New Orleans, Meet New Jersey...

2011-08-29T22:37:00.000-05:00

I have no idea who these ladies are, but the mimosas were good.

May 2, 2009
New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival

Ok, so remember when I started this blog a few weeks ago and said I’d be posting regularly and that by October i would finish up my summaries of all 40-something shows I went to between 2008 and 2011?

Yeah. Ain’t gonna happen. My goal is to post twice a week, but my life is busy y’all. I’m sure yours is too. There are a whole bunch of ways over in the right margin that you can find out when I’ve updated, or just check back once a week and maybe you’ll get lucky.

So my next show was in my hometown for the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival. I have to laugh when i think about how most Jazz Fest purists reacted when Jovi was announced as a headliner.

“Oh, the horror! How dare they bring in an 80s band from NEW JERSEY for God’s sake to sully our festival experience? This event is about New Orleans, jazz, and heritage...not hair bands.”

Well, grow up people. This isn’t just a festival, it’s a BUSINESS. It’s a delicate balancing act to keep the “institution” of Jazz Fest as pure as possible while still scheduling musicians and bands that will appeal to a broad variety of fans Don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t the first year we’ve heard that Jazz Fest was getting “too commercial” and organizers were losing sight of its original mission and it was becoming just like any other music festival. But the addition of Bon Jovi to the lineup had people riled up like I’ve never seen before.

But when you look at the big picture, there were a helluva lot of people at that festival who came to see Jovi, but they were also exposed to a huge amount of jazz and Louisiana heritage music, food, and art. I’d bet that 90% of the folks planted right up against the barricade at the Acura stage that day had no fucking idea who Zachary Richard, Buckwheat Zydeco, or even Dr. John was. But now they do, and they owe it to JBJ, because as has been said before, he is a tourism economic stimulus package.

Speaking of packages...

Do you see what I see?

Zen Jon: And just like that, your mind goes to the gutter.

Me: Yes. It’s a weakness. I need a 12-step program.

I’ll be honest, this was a completely different Jazz Fest experience than any I had ever had before.

My first Fest was in 1995, back in the days before Fiction Mistress became a Mommy and I was living the quintessential New Orleans lifestyle to the fullest.   I don’t remember much from that Fest other than being mesmerized by the legendary Ray Charles. The rest was basically a blur, as was much of 1995 and 1996. Let's just say that I bet Jon Bon Jovi and I could swap stories that would leave both of us in disbelief. But then Mr. Sam and I realized, for the sake of our livers, we needed to spend less time in the French Quarter and more time being “responsible adults.” *sigh*

But even after we got important jobs and became homeowners and parents, we would still go and enjoy Jazz Fest and get drunk and silly and dance barefoot with strangers and eat and drink until we could barely move.   We’d start our morning in the gospel tent and plan our attack on the food booths and figure out which acts were “can’t misses,” then spend the day wandering from stage to stage.

But this time, I was at Jazz Fest to see Bon Jovi. I was with new friends from Florida (Diane, Laura and Joy) and there was no way we were missing a single second of Jovi goodness. This also, of course, involved us getting in line by 6 am, where there was already a small crowd serving mimosas...cuz this is New Orleans, y’all!

At about 10:30, we made a run for the barricade at the Acura stage and landed a primo spot almost right in front of where we knew Richie would be.   So we settled in.with no thought of trying to see some of my favorite acts playing elsewhere. I missed Aaron Neville at the Gospel Tent, Feufollet and dreamy Roddie Romero on the Fais Do Do stage, Irvin Mayfield at the Jazz Tent, Cowboy Mouth on the Gentilly Stage...I could go on and on. But I’ve seen all those folks before and will undoubtedly see them again.

I’m still a little sad that I missed Kings of Leon. *sniffle*

But we did not leave those coveted spots. We didn’t go to the bathroom. We didn’t eat. We drank water only. We made friends with those around us and we hunkered down.

After several hours, we were dirty, hungry and parched. And I’ll admit I got pissed at some of the impatient Bon Jovi fans who boo-ed Dr. John.

There was a moment when I remember thinking, never again.

But then the white mic stand appeared and suddenly it didn’t matter how hot, tired or thirsty we were.

So maybe I ended up with bruises all over my rib cage from the crowds pushing me against the barricade. Maybe they stopped playing ten minutes early (I guess I can forgive them for wanting to get to Bourbon Street). Maybe I missed Kings of Leon to see virtually the same set list I had seen just a week before in Vegas.

But Jon has a way, sometimes, of making you feel like he has singled you out of a crowd of tens of thousands, even though you know there’s no way that’s even possible. My moment (at least in my head it was) came during In These Arms.

*dreamy sigh*

And suddenly, it’s all worthwhile.

For a different perspective, check out :54 -- this video was captured by someone I didn’t know at the time, but now has become one of my dearest Jovi friends...and we were standing practically next to each other!

Me and my new friends did some other fun stuff too, including dinner at one of my favorite restaurants with one of my favorite chefs, and the obligatory stop at the Hard Rock Cafe to see this shiny silver shirt and itty bitty black jeans.


Insanely sexy...and just where is his right hand?

Next up is the "secret show" in the parking lot at New Meadowland Stadium, October, 2009.

THE (vanilla) SET LIST

Livin' On A Prayer
Lost Highway
Born To Be My Baby
You Give Love A Bad Name
Raise Your Hands
Summertime
In These Arms
I'll Sleep When I'm Dead
I Love This Town
We Got It Goin' On
It's My Life
Have A Nice Day
Keep The Faith
Who Says You Can't Go Home
Bad Medicine/Shout
Encore:
Wanted Dead or Alive
Someday I'll Be Saturday Night
Twist and Shout

Karma's A Bitch. Stop Being An Asshole.

2011-08-17T20:00:00.004-05:00

Ok, before you read any further, go take a Dramamine. You’ll understand why soon.

Well look at Miss New Fan -- my second Jovi-Cation in eight weeks. Make no mistake, Jon Bon Jovi generates tourism.

This trip was with Big Apple Jen and I justified it to Mr. Sam because it was a low-budget, quick getaway. Jen had a free room at one of the casino hotels and I had a free flight voucher on Southwest, so why not?

I should probably mention here that I absolutely hate Las Vegas. I’m not a gambler (although I don’t mind blowing on the dice for my husband occasionally) but the whole Vegas experience is just not my cuppa. But with no Jovi tour on the horizon, I couldn’t pass up a show, even if it was general admission and in a casino.

Of course, the Hard Rock really is a pretty cool place, so if I had to be somewhere at least there were interesting things to look at.

As any of you who were there remember, the line-up was a little bit of a Cluster Fuck. As usual, the fan club members were trying to play it fair and use the tried and true numbering system, but security at the Hard Rock had other plans and essentially screwed everything up. At the end of the day, we ended up having to stand in this crazy line for hours and security wouldn’t let us sit down because of “fire regulations” (WTF?). But at least we were indoors so I guess I shouldn’t complain.

To say that the folks we met in line that day were “interesting” would be the understatement of the century. It was classic Jovi Freak Show, Vegas-style, and to top everything off, most everyone except me and Jen had been drinking for hours. Now as y’all should know by now, I’m no prude about alcohol by any means. But let’s face it, giving unlimited booze to a bunch of women who are ramped up on “oh my God Jon Bon Jovi is in the same building as me“ hormones is pretty fucking stupid.

So you know how some Jovi girls always seem to be spoiling for a fight? I’m not that girl. Like I’ve said before, I’m a lover, not a hater, but it never ceases to amaze me how Jon Bon Jovi can turn a bunch of grown women into neurotic idiots with the intelligence and diplomacy of a gaggle of 7th graders. And when you mix over-consumption with a crowd of mostly peri-menopausal women scrambling in stilettos for a good spot...

Well, let’s just say I had my first encounter with this fan...

Perhaps you've seen her...

The Demon: "You think you're gonna get between me and Jon Bon Jovi?"

Look familiar?

Thought so.

Here’s how it started. Jen, her friend Peggy and I were standing there, minding our own business. We’re in a halfway decent place, all things considered, maybe five “rows” back and about half way between Jon and David. The people around us are all relatively cool, thank God, because we’re packed in like fucking sardines.

Suddenly, I sense a Demonic Presence behind me.

Now y’all know how this happens and I bet at some point it’s happened to you. Everyone is clustered together and a woman starts trying to push her way to the front, thinking if she just keeps her head down and shoves as hard as she can, people will just let her through. If they don’t, she still won’t look anyone in the eye but will say she just went to get a drink (or the bathroom, fill in the blank) and now she’s trying to get back to her spot right in front of the stage. She may even point to a person who is in the front (and not looking back for her) and claim that’s her friend.

If you’ve ever attempted a lame move like this, then all I can say is

Seriously. What. The. Fuck.

Obviously, we’ve all been standing in line for hours, we KNOW who’s in front of us, and we certainly would have seen someone weaving their way through that crowd if anyone was stupid enough to leave a spot in front of the stage at a GA show.

Act like a fucking grown up.

Well this woman is attempting this nonsense and everyone around us basically closes together to stand firm as a unit and not let her pass.

I, unfortunately, am right in front of her, and she starts to get really physically aggressive, basically screaming at me to let her through and trying to barrel her way past me.

Where’s Knute when i need him?

I’m sorry, but The Demon just picked the wrong woman to fuck with that night. I was hot, sweaty, tired, and desperately in need of a glass of wine. I remember looking at her and thinking she was incredibly drunk (the slurred words were a huge tip-off) and about to go off on a rant of epic proportions. I knew I should chillax and go find Zen Jon but all I could think was

Bring it, Bitch.

Zen Jon: I love it when you're Bad Ass.

Me: I love that you love it.

About this time, Hard Rock security showed up and assessed the situation and told her she needed to chill out and leave the area or they would throw her out.

Score one for security.

Five minutes later, The Demon is BACK and I swear to God there was no evidence of my serene and mannerly Southern demeanor at that moment. I was all about channeling my Sicilian grandmother.

I think the Evil Eye scared her, because suddenly, she tries a change of tactics and turns cajoling, like we’re best friends, and tells me (actually she’s still wild-eyed and screaming but she’s trying her best to use drunk logic on me) that I really should let her past because I’m so TALL it’s not fair for her to have to stand behind me.

Ok, so this ALMOST made me crack up. Seriously, I’m 5’4 -- not exactly Amazon material. Now I’ve been known to rock some bad-ass heels at Jovi shows, but not that night. Not only that, but it was basically an admission that she hadn’t been in the front and was just trying to get past all of us whom had been patiently waiting in line for hours because she was vertically challenged.

Think again.

But just as I was about to open my can of verbal whoop-ass on her, some awesome folks behind me found the same guy who had told her to leave before.

Score two for security -- The Demon was “removed.”

So the concert was pretty much what you would expect for one of those “we’re not touring but we need to throw the fans a bone” shows, although we did get Blood On Blood. Regardless, Jon looked fucking amazing and you could just tell he loved being back in front of an audience of women worshipping him.


Like an Angel...helpful when dealing with Demons.


So Smirkalicious it hurts...

Oh yeah, Rich was there too. :)

And this show represented another milestone in my fan experience -- my very first attempt at video-ing ANYTHING at a Jovi show. Remember the Dramamine suggestion? Seriously, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Lesson learned: I can be dangerously bad-ass when I need to.

Next up: New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, May, 2009

THE SET LIST

Livin’ On A Prayer
You Give Love A Bad Name
Lost Highway
Born To Be My Baby
Runaway
Raise Your Hands
I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead
Summertime
Whole Lot Of Leavin’
Someday I’ll Be Saturday Night
We Got It Goin’ On
It’s My Life
I’ll Be There For You
Have A Nice Day
Keep The Faith
Who Says You Can’t Go Home
Bad Medicine

Encore
Wanted Dead Or Alive
Blood On Blood
Twist and Shout

Sometimes You Think You're Gonna Get It...But You Don't, And That's Just The Way It Goes

2011-08-15T23:54:00.000-05:00

February 23, 2009
Starland Ballroom, Sayreville, NJ

Before you read this, know that I’ve been mainlining caffeine all day, have a vicious case of PMS, and just spent two hours of my evening at third grade orientation crammed into a desk and chair sized for a 9-year old.

Consider yourself warned.

Over the fall and winter, I had fallen even deeper into the Jovi rabbit hole. It had really become an addiction, not just to the band and the music (since there hadn’t been any new records or shows), but also to the incredible people I was meeting in the fandom.

So when the fan club announced they were organizing a special show for members “somewhere in New Jersey” in February, was there even a second of hesitation in me deciding to go?

Well...actually, there was...

You see, at that point, I had become friends with a lot of other fans who were, to put it nicely, less than enchanted with the direction of the fan club.

And while I had joined Backstage way back in July, I had had basically zero interaction with its management. I came into the Lost Highway tour too late to get my tickets through them, so I didn’t have the experience that many apparently had getting screwed on seat assignments. I’m not that person who spends hours and hours on the fan club message board (no offense to those that do) and would not have been caught dead with the vast majority of special “merchandise” that was only available to fan club members. So basically, the only reason I joined was in the hopes that there would be special “experiences” that would be made available to members.

And as far as I was concerned, with the announcement of this show, Matt was delivering that.

Still, the vehemence and disdain with which many of my new friends spoke about the fan club was eye-opening to say the least. If it had only been a few random people here and there, I could have overlooked it. But no, almost universally, all the folks who had been fans for years, including friends I was (and still am) close to, were telling me the fan club had gone down the toilet when Matt took over...that he had “favorite fans” and if you weren’t one of them, the only time they cared about you was when it was time to renew your membership. That, along with skyrocketing ticket prices, had many new friends telling me my money would be better spent elsewhere. In fact, one friend actually told me that “paying money to see this fan club event would be like being gang raped by Matt and his goonies.”

Wow. That’s strong.

Call me a Kool-Aid drinker, but ultimately, I always like to consider all the evidence and make my own judgements rather than going along with the crowd.

Now believe me, I understand why many of the Forever Fans are nostalgic for the “good old days.” Hell, I didn’t even like Bon Jovi during the good old days, but now I’m nostalgic for them too.

Well, no, I take that back. I'm not nostalgic for this...

Beyond ridiculous.

But times change. And when they do you either roll with it or you get run over.

Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not a Matt Ass Kisser. Never have been, never will be. Trust me, the man doesn’t even know who I am and I want to keep it that way. Actually, maybe he does, but he certainly doesn’t know I’m the “Fiction Mistress.” lol

But while I may not be one of those fans who elevate him to some kind of celebrity status merely because he shares a gene pool with JBJ, I also don’t disrespect him.

Is he taking advantage of the fact that his big brother is a gazillionaire rock star?

Abso-fucking-lutely.

Wouldn’t you?

But there’s a flip side to that coin. if any of you have ever worked with family before, and particularly if that family member has an ego the size of the sun, I think you know what I’m talking about.

Not to mention the fact that he was suddenly put in charge of the fan club that his MOM had run for years, a woman who was loved and revered by many because she had birthed the equivalent of the Musical Second Coming.

And something tells me Big Brother wanted to make changes. Jon Bon Jovi is, first and foremost, a BUSINESS MAN. As we all know (because he likes to tell us, over and over), he is the CEO of a billion dollar brand and has been running the show successfully for nearly three decades.

So do you think Jon Bon Jovi wants a “warm and fuzzy” fan club?

Please.

It’s nothing personal. It’s just business.

Now that doesn’t mean I think he doesn’t care about the Forever Fans. Actually, I think the reverse was proven true again and again, particularly on this last tour. I think he went out of his way to make sure, when he could, that some of those fans who had been around and supported the band through thick and through thin got some very special moments.

Does that piss me off as a newer fan and novice fan club member?

Fuck no. It makes me respect him more.

But make no mistake, if you have been around forever, if you feel that you “built a wing on his mansion” and because of that feel that you are ENTITLED to a piece of JBJ, then you likely would be better off spending your $50 on a fan club membership for a band that is still HUNGRY.

The hungry ones will shake your hand and kiss your ass til the cows come home because they NEED to sell records and fill seats.

But Jon Bon Jovi hasn’t been hungry in a long, long time. He’s not going to even WINK at you for $50, much less kiss your ass.

And if your panties are in a wad about ticket prices, get over it. They’re going to charge what the market will bear. When the front rows stop selling out, Jon will lower the prices.

And. Not. One. Second. Before.

And now, just like Magic, Zen Jon is here to lighten the mood.

Zen Jon: What can I say? Greed...is good...

Me: Baby...the pinstriped blazer...with you grabbing your belt buckle like that...it all works for me...cuz I'm greedy like that...

Ok, stepping off of soap box now.

So any way, back to the fan club show.

As far as I was concerned, $250 was not a huge price to pay for what could possibly be a once-in-a-lifetime experience at the Starland Ballroom, and I really didn’t give a fuck if this was his dress rehearsal for the Mastercard show. Still, this warm-weather-lover needed a better reason than that to schedule a trip to NEW JERSEY in FEBRUARY.

Enter, once again, my partners in crime, my “Fictionista” friends, and Willow came up with a brilliant plan for a Jovi-cation that would not just include the show, but also a Jovi Heritage Pilgrimage, a few days at an LBI beach house with Hath, Queenie and Tara, and even an official Fictionista meet and greet at Chickie’s and Pete’s in Philly.

Well, Hell, how could I possibly say no to a fun-filled week of Jovi goodness when the band wasn’t even on tour? Plus, now there are crab fries involved!

I flew up to Philly and Willow and I spent the first day doing girly stuff -- getting pedicures, shopping and drinking wine. The next day, we drove all around New Jersey for the Jovi heritage tour with stops at the Stone Pony, the Fast Lane and Sayreville War Memorial High School, plus drive by glances at his childhood home on Robin Hood Drive and of course, the mansion on the Navasink.

So when we slowly cruised by the big house, we didn’t even STOP, however we were in a Mustang convertible with Jersey plates that said “Jovi Nut” so it was completely obvious what we were doing. Of course, we were met with warm hospitality from some guy who slowed down to yell at us that there was nothing to see and to move on.

Our slow-mo picture of his gate.

Um, really? Do you understand that I’ve just traveled over a thousand miles just to catch a glimpse of this place? Chillax, people.

And once again, everything was very surreal, because remember, a year before I didn’t even LIKE Bon Jovi, and now I was driving by his house and admiring it like it’s freaking Graceland.

The day of the show rolled around and even with all the crap everyone was saying about Matt and the fan club, I went in with an open mind...and was pleasantly surprised. While the lineup system was a little chaotic and it was absolutely FREEZING outside, all in all the whole entrance thing went relatively smoothly. Somehow we ended up pulling great numbers and we got a good place to stand on this sort of raised platform, so we had an unobstructed view of the band and weren’t too far back.

This was obviously my first time seeing Jon perform solo and I honestly didn’t know how much I’d like seeing him without the band. But I LOVED the show. It was so much fun to hear some of his solo work, plus some cover songs and of course a few Jovi songs thrown in for good measure.

There was one moment in particular when my panties went up in flames, and that was right here (now remember that I was standing to the LEFT so it was like he was looking right at us when he was talking about foreplay in the beginning)...

The musicians were amazing and I thought the set list was just the right balance and we got to hear some really rare stuff. In fact, the only problem I had with the show had nothing to do with Jon, it was the ridiculously bad lighting and weird fog they were all swimming in, so my photos all sucked.

But the bonus was getting a CD of the whole show in the mail a few weeks later plus some other cool swag (thankfully no Slippery When Wet thong underwear or JBJ trailer hitches).

As far as I was concerned, Matt and the rest had done a great job. Screw all the nay-sayers.

And then the real fun began.

This “small gathering” we were planning at Chickie’s and Pete’s soon grew to a guest list of nearly 40, with folks from all over the world coming, including (as Hath put it with her incredible word-smithing) “one brave husband willing to swim in the estrogen ocean.” We got a limo to drive us (since we were ALL going to be hitting the hooch pretty hard), saw old friends and met new ones, and Chahlie the bahtendah introduced me to an alcoholic concoction called a Puck Puck Goose. Trust me, that will never pass these lips again.

Then we hit the Jersey Shore armed with Tara’s giant box of oot-bay eg-lay DVDs and far too much alcohol for five women to consume in a three day period.

Well, on second thought...

So we drank, we ate (Queenie makes the most unbelievable meatballs. EVER), we wrote, we tweeted, we blogged, we got silly, we stuck our bare toes in the frigid Atlantic (Yes. Me. In February).

And we had the most amazing time.

I later wrote about that week:

To say Jon was amazing, that the show was amazing, that the band was amazing and even the fan club was amazing would be the understatement of a lifetime.

I could not be happier with the whole experience.

Spending it with Willow, the Fictionistas, and everyone else we met up with over the past few days was truly a highlight. I really didn’t think there was anything that could top my BJ experiences in 2008, the first year of all this madness for me. From KC to Boston to Central Park, I just couldn’t imagine this could be better.

But it so so so was.

I think that about sums it up. :)

Lessons learned: The fan club is worth $50 a year and don’t ever EVER drink Puck Puck Goose.

THE SET LIST

So You Want To Be A Rock ‘N’ Roll Star
This Time It’s For Real
Runaway
I Get A Rush
Garageland
Lost Highway
Don’t Leave Me Tonight
Head Over Heels for You
Midnight in Chelsea
Janie, Don’t Take Your Love To Town
Every Word Was A Piece of My Heart
Broken Down Piece Of Man
All I Want Is Everything
Whole Lot Of Lonely
Bang A Drum
Never Say Die
Billy Get Your Guns
Someday I’ll Be Saturday Night
Wanted Dead Or Alive
I Love This Town
Just Older
Livin’ On A Prayer
Who Says You Can’t Go Home

Special Guest The Goddess Hathor: Boston and Central Park

2011-08-13T11:00:00.000-05:00

As many of you know, sometimes I'm brain dead or busy with work and don't have time to blog, so I figured it would be a good idea to line up a few "guest posts" to offer their perspectives of concerts we attended together. First up is the woman I hold personally responsible for all this Jovi craziness (but I still love her, and so should you).

Leave a nice comment or she will smite you.

xox

~FM

***

So, Samantha asked me to write a little something for her blog, covering The Lost Highway tour, second night in Boston and the show in Central Park. I had gone to both Boston shows, but Samantha only came up for the second, so that’s where we’ll start.

I had booked the hotel, a hole-in-the-wall place about a 5 minute walk from the subway which would dump us out at the venue. Little did I know at the time that some of the girls *cough*Samantha*cough* were accustomed to WAY better accommodations, but it was clean, didn’t smell, and was really just a place to grab a nap after the show.

Not Exactly The Ritz Carlton

The day of the show, Wills, BAJ and I piled into my Tahoe and steamed off to Logan to pick up Samantha. We had a sign made up that said “Queen of New Orleans” and greeted her with leis (at the time, I didn’t know that a glass of wine would have been ‘just the thing’, but I know better now).

We collected her and her luggage, and made our way back to the hotel. After a delicious pizza nosh, and showers, etc, we were ready to head out.

So. The Venue. Bahstin Gahdin.

At the time of the show, I was knee-deep in writing Joker and was living/breathing/dreaming David and knew that based on the position of his dais on the stage, he’d be pretty much facing me for a lot of the night. So I made him a sign. One side said "HEY DAVID!", and the other side said "SHOW ME JOKER". I couldn’t wait to use it.

Krissy and I found our seats, and I saw that TaraLeigh was a couple rows behind us. I leaned over the row of chairs for a pleased-to-meetcha hug and blew out my knee. The whole row of chairs shifted, as did my knee, and POP! (ow). I thought I just sprained it, so sat down for a little while and waited for the show to start. Once the guys took the stage? There was no sitting down for me. I spent the whole concert standing on one leg like a fucking flamingo. But I wouldn’t have missed a minute of it for the world.

Especially because I got my “moment”. Now, keep in mind, this was only my 6^th show, and I’d only ever had far-away seats. This was my first opportunity to interact somewhat with ANYONE on the stage. David was looking around so I started waving my “HEY DAVID” sign. David saw it and gave me the nod and smile and mouthed "what?" and I flipped it over and he laughed and gave me the "really?" look and I nodded effusively and waved the sign back and forth and he laughed and flapped his shirt over his pec and I saw most of the Joker!

Oh my sweet Hell was he ripped.

Then I held up a sign that said "THANK YOU! LOVE, HATH" and he gave me a surprised look and a big smile, and that was it -- the rest of the night, he'd look over at me (I had on my cowboy hat and was the only one in my section with one so I was easy to find) and I'd get the "hey" nod and chin point, lots of smiles, a couple winks and kisses. It was amazing.

One other funny thing, when Jon was doing the band intros, he did David's and I held up the "HEY DAVID" sign again, and Jon turned and said something because David laughed and shook his head and flapped his shirt AGAIN! Then Jon asked Renz if she was going to do that too. It was so cool! They SAW me and interacted! I don't know why that should be such a big deal to me, but it was.

That sign has made its way through this whole Circle/GH tour too (in Willow’s capable hands) and I’m sure next tour we’ll bring it out again. Maybe next tour D will go back to button-down shirts.

In addition to delicious D, Jon was also showing off the ripped torso. I mean RIPPED. I really mean holy fucking hell ripped.

I got some beautiful pictures of Jon in his red shirt, unbuttoned all the way, showing off those delicious hip bones... and he was bouncing up and down -- pecs flexing ... I’m a Richie girl all the way (with David tendencies STILL, even though Joker wrapped more than a year ago), but man, Jonny was amazing.

He makes the Light so tempting....

We all sang Happy Birthday to Richie before the encore and he conducted us with those arms... Oh those arms...

But I'll always be a Dark girl.

It was an amazing, exhausting, pain-riddled night, but utterly exhilarating. I gimped back to the hotel, iced down the limb for a while, drove Krissy home, and pondered.

CP or not CP?

Could I handle the rush of Central Park with only one functioning leg and an old cane I found in my basement?

Yeah, I could.

The Friday before Central Park, Samantha, Willow, and BAJ took the train out to a station close-by-my-place, and with yet another bag of ice strapped to my knee, we started the long, detour-laden trip to NYC. We detoured to Gillette Stadium (on purpose) to pay a lil bit of homage. We detoured to a McDonald's (on purpose) for a bit of a nosh. We hit traffic in every major city in Connecticut, and that is a big-ass fucking state to start with, never mind hitting traffic in New London, New Haven, Fairfield, Danbury, AAAAH! We also detoured to NJ, though not on purpose. The little bitch in my GPS had me in the wrong lane at a bridge, and instead of getting off the thruway, we got on the bridge. Then we had to pay $7 for the privilege of leaving New Jersey.

We made it, and found ourselves in a lovely hotel plotting our evening. I was hobbling around, but did NOT want to spend the evening cooped up in the hotel. We went out for a lovely late dinner and stayed at the restaurant until past midnight. We made friends with the waitress, a gorgeous Italian girl named Gisella, and sat at the back of the restaurant singing Happy birthday to Richie. After dinner, we strolled through Times Square, getting people to take pictures of us. We even got a stray random couple in a picture with us. The highlight of the walk was the snake dude. There was the albino snake guy (the snake was albino, not the guy) with the most beautiful boa constrictor I’ve ever seen. Samantha and I each wore the snake; me because it was awesome, and I love snakes. Sam, because she’d had quite a bit of wine – apparently she is NOT a snake person.

The next day was SHOW DAY! And oh my God, the park.

I'd never been to Central Park, and had no idea of the vastness of it. I've been to the Public Gardens in Boston, and some of the parks here in and around town, but they're piddly compared to CP. Willow and Samantha left for the park early to find where the "disabled entrance" was. There was NO way I was going to be able to get safely up the whole park to be near the stage. Once they were settled, BAJ and I cabbed over to meet them. We scored spots on the lawn about maybe 25 rows' worth from the stage and planted ourselves there for the duration.

What a show. You could tell, you could just SEE that the guys were so beyond pumped to be playing Central Park. With all the places they've been, and all the things they've done, the excitement in their faces was completely visible, and the energy they gave off was totally palpable. Jon and Richie, when they took the stage, were so overwhelmed by the love pouring out to them; you could see it in their faces. David and T looked awesome too, and man did they ever ROCK for the solid two hours they played.

We had made Soul signs b/c they beat the Gladiators and were going to the arena bowl. Jon saw the signs and pointed at us and pumped his fist in the air and pointed again and gave a thumbs up. A cool moment to be sure, but the Tat Flash was still better.

The "Hey David, Show Me Joker" double-sided sign made it to the park, and I held it up for D. He saw it, bobbing his head around people’s arms so he could read it. When he nodded and I showed the "SHOW ME JOKER" side, he smiled and touched his shirt and shook his head (the tease).

I will say, the energy was high in NYC, but the crowd in Boston was much better, which fed the boys better. After every song in CP, most people were just sorta hanging around waiting for the next one. At least they weren’t sitting down. Though there really wasn’t anywhere to sit.

It was an amazing night, capping off one of the best weekends of my adult life.

Start Spreadin' The News...

2011-08-11T16:43:00.000-05:00

July 12, 2008
Central Park, New York City

So after my absolutely mind-blowing first concert as a Bon Jovi fan in Boston, we all headed back to the hotel to spend the next few hours downloading all the photos off our memory cards. Picture all of us in our PJs, our faces illuminated by the glow of our laptops, everyone basically silent except for the occasional moan of appreciation, followed by a chorus of “let me see, let me see.” I think Hath had her camera on that setting where it basically snapped a photo every half second, so there was this whole series of pics where Jon was jumping up and down and his pecs were flexing and just...

Well, if you’re reading this blog I’m sure you’ve “been there done that” and can picture it better than I can describe it. Because really, even a literary genius could not come close to capturing the sheer perfection that was his body in July, 2008, but the phrase “fucking rip-tastic” should definitely be used. And as far as I’m concerned, that red shirt should be enshrined somewhere. Or maybe Matt could cut it up into small, inch-square pieces and sell them on BS for like $100. I’m sure there would be takers.

Any way, that was the first of many nights during this fan journey in which I slept with complete strangers whom I’d met on the internet, but hey, that was preferable to the blowjob-a-palooza that I knew was waiting for me when I got back home. And we didn’t even have a SINGLE naked pillow fight.

Zen Jon: No naked pillow fights? That's disappointing for Sister Wives.

One thing I forgot to mention during my Boston post was that Hath completely blew out her knee before the show, and that plays a critical part in our Central Park experience. But first, we had to get there.

Hath, trooper that she is, even with a bum knee, drove us from Boston to New York City. Along the way, we had an obligatory stop at Gillette Stadium (ho hum, no Drew Brees, why are we here exactly?) and a surreal lunch at a McDonald’s that was being swarmed by three busloads of Asian tourists. We probably should have planned that better, but I was starving, and when I’m starving, don’t get between me and a Filet-O-Fish sandwich because I will cut you.

So when we left for NYC, I was thinking this would be an uber-fast journey and we’d be partying Big Apple style in no time. After all, this is New England, the Land of Itty Bitty States.

Also the Land of Traffic From Hell. Good Lord, I’d rather be on the mother fucking Beltway during morning rush hour than stuck in a two-lane traffic jam somewhere in Connecticut. But hey, at least we had Hath’s Jovi Pod hooked up to the stereo with like 1800+ Jovi songs to keep us entertained.

Now call me naive, but I was completely perplexed by how, even in a career spanning more than two decades, Bon Jovi could have that many songs. Then in a startling moment of “snatch the pebble from my hand” clarity, my big sisters/sister wives prepared me for the next milestone on my Jovi Journey and introduced me to oot-bay eg-lays.

Zen Jon: I guess it wouldn’t be very zen for me to call my attorneys.

Me: Dude, keep looking at me with those fuck-me eyes and you could call the freaking Supreme Court Justices for all I care.

So we get to In Why See after an unexpected detour to “The Garden State.” I’d love it if any of you Jersey Girls could explain to me precisely why it’s called this, because I’ve never seen a single garden in New Jersey. Which exit is the garden off of?

Our hotel accommodations were right in Times Square so you can just imagine the trouble we were going to be getting into. This pretty much sums up the evening:

I remember very little about this night. My Sister Wives were trying to get me drunk, I think. I do remember wrapping myself in an enormous yellow snake (so not my thing) and wrapping my arms around a couple of NYC’s finest (definitely my thing, and you KNOW they just love it when tipsy Southern belles want to try on their hats).

So we got back to the hotel and were watching the news reports of all the Bon Jovi fans who were sleeping on the sidewalks to get a good position at the show. And that got us thinking: how the heck are we going to get a decent spot when we had a wounded Sister Wife?

Well let me tell you something right now, Willow is one of the most single-minded, resourceful, determined people I know. This woman is a PLANNER. Somehow she figured out there would be a special area for folks at the concert with physical disabilities. I’m not sure who she called, Hell, for all I know she was on the phone with Mayor Bloomberg, but by the next morning we knew exactly where this special area would be and also which gate we needed to go in at.

So the plan was, Willow and I would head over to the park early and start schmoozing the gate keepers at the disabled entrance, and Hath and Jen would come over later. By the time they got there, we were aggressively lobbying to be allowed even closer to the Great Lawn, because if they didn’t let us in until the crazies back at 79th street were sprinting across the park, all of our new disabled friends we had met in line would be trampled.

We were like the Voice of the Disabled.

And incredibly, it worked.

But even though they allowed us closer, there were still some hairy moments as a sea of folks with crutches, canes, braces, wheelchairs etc tried to jockey for position while the masses raced across The Great Lawn headed for the stage, but we ultimately ended up in a pretty good spot maybe 75 feet back.

It was a few hours before the show was scheduled to start, so we wiled away the time meeting the folks around us and listening for updates on the Philadelphia Soul playoff game. Jen had been showing up at shows for the whole tour with a special sign that said “Destination Arena Bowl” so we were hoping for a big win for three reasons: 1) so Jon could hopefully see her sign and acknowledge it, 2) so he wouldn’t be in a cranky mood for the show, and 3) so he would shave off that RIDICULOUS soul patch he was sporting. I mean, I have just as many fantasies as y’all do about scruff burns, but that looks way better on Tico in my opinion.

Well amazingly, the Soul won and Jon saw the sign. In fact, not only did he see the sign, he pointed directly at it, gave a thumbs up and a fist pump. Check out 1:25 on the video below.

This pic cracks me up. He looks like he's swishing mouthwash. Still hot though.

So about the concert, I’m gonna have to forego my normal sarcastic witticisms, because being part of this show at such an early point in my fan experience was really special. Besides, I need to save my smart-ass comments for my next installment.

The concert itself, well Hell, y’all have seen the setlist, it was pretty standard fare. But I was a new fan, so everything was still new to me. And just being in the park and experiencing that, it was like being part of Bon Jovi history. And to stand there and look back and see nothing but thousands and thousands of smiling faces and raised hands as far as the eye could see was (I thought at the time) a once in a lifetime experience.

I can only imagine what it must have looked like to them from the stage -- they definitely seemed a little...overwhelmed isn’t the right word, because I don’t think there is anything on the planet that could overwhelm Jon Bon Jovi. But it seemed like they were just looking around and soaking it all in, and Jon and Richie in particular had sort of “Holy shit, can you believe this?” expressions. You know Jon must have been reflecting on all the hard work and determination it takes just to make a living as a band, much less become successful and outlast ridiculous musical trends (grunge, boybands). And let’s face it, if you get invited to play Central Park, you’ve reached iconic status. Lots for them to be proud of, and this new fan was just excited to be there to witness it.

I think Jon even got a little emotional toward the end, and actually, I did too. My first Big Bon Jovi Adventure was drawing to a close and I had had an amazing time and made some wonderful new friends. I was also sad that I wouldn’t be sticking around to experience the final shows at MSG. This was my last show on the tour and I had no idea when I’d see them again. Was three shows enough to keep me engaged in this brand new Jovi world until the next tour rolled around?

Of course, you already know the answer to that. :)

Stay tuned for a guest appearance by The Goddess Hathor on Saturday with her own write-up of the Boston/Central Park experience. Oh wait...pardon me...make that Bahstin!

Lesson learned: General admission shows are stressful, but they can also deliver some of the most magical experiences.

THE SET LIST

Living On A Prayer
You Give Love A Bad Name
Lost Highway
Born To Be My Baby
Runaway
Sleep When I’m Dead w/ Twist and Shout
Blaze of Glory
Whole Lot of Leavin’
In These Arms
We Got It Goin’ On
It’s My Life
I’ll Be There For You
Have A Nice Day
Bad Medicine w/ Shout

Encore:
Always
Wanted
I Love This Town

The First Hit Is Free...The Rest Are Gonna Cost You...

2011-08-09T13:02:00.000-05:00

July 10, 2008
Boston, Massachusetts

So after my last post, some of you may be thinking:

“Ok Fiction Mistress. How does someone go from not even liking Bon Jovi, not even recognizing Jon when he’s standing right in front of you, to traveling around the country (and now the world) to see them...and even crazier, writing fan fiction about them? That’s just fucked up beyond comprehension.”

Allow me to present Exhibit A:

Exhibit A: This one is called "Loose Red Shirt...Tight Everything Else"

So gather round, children. I have a story to tell you.

It’s been less than two months since my “come to Jesus” moment with Jon Bon Jovi. In that time, I’ve spent more money on iTunes than I have in like...well, ever...and far too many hours on the internet reading anything and everything I can find on Bon Jovi, and that’s when I stumbled upon fan fiction.

Now I’m sure some of y’all are not into the fic, and I bet it makes Jon all squirm-y when he runs across it. Either that or it turns him on, and he sits up late at night reading it and drinking nasty pinot grigio over ice.

*shudder*

But I digress...

When I first discovered fan fic, I seriously thought this must be part of Bon Jovi’s marketing efforts. I mean, if you think about it, it would be genius for a smart artist to put fan fic out there as a way to reach out to those fans who are looking for a bit of fantasy to ramp up the devotion level -- no different than Jon putting on some crotch-grabbing pants and a sultry, “admit it, you know you wanna fuck me” stare for a publicity shot. Of course, they could never ADMIT it's part of their marketing efforts... lol.

So maybe you can imagine just how it happened. Basically, I’m clueless about Bon Jovi, but my appetite has been whetted (i know I could think of about a million dirty things to say here, but I’m gonna take the high road...this time). I’m hungry for more information. After all, I have more than two decades to catch up on! So after I’ve done the obvious and downloaded a whole bunch of music and videos, it’s time to break out Google.

Have y’all Google’d JBJ lately?

You should try it some time. It’s amusing. I bet Dorothea does it for kicks every now and then and laughs her ass off over a GOOD bottle of wine.

Any way, one day I’m at work doing some kind of mindless bullshit so I fire up the Google engines and come across fan fiction, specifically, The Goddess Hathor’s website.

Let’s just say I didn’t get any more work done that day. And on a wild hair, following an afternoon spent reading this “fiction” with my jaw hanging open, I emailed this Goddess, never expecting a reply.

To my surprise, within hours, I had a response, and the start of a wonderful friendship blossomed. Not only did she appreciate my comments on her writing, she encouraged me to try it out too.

Me? Write porn? About Jon Bon Jovi?

Bwahahahahaa!   I mean, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good dose of soft porn as much as the next girl, and hey, if it’s starring JBJ, even better.   But to actually dream it up and put it down on paper (or screen)?

What an absolutely hilarious, yet also intriguing thought!

Then, to my amazement, I started meeting other fans who were also writers. Lots of them. Apparently, JBJ inspires a lot of really dirty thoughts in a lot of otherwise normal people.

I wonder if he knows?

So before I knew it, I was trying my hand at it as well. I invented a pen name (after all, wouldn’t want any of my “real life” friends finding out). “Samantha” was born and I immersed myself in the decadent world of Jovi fan fiction. My first efforts were pretty laughable, but boy, nothing gets you in the mindset to live and breathe Bon Jovi like trying to figure them out as “characters.”

Well one thing led to another, and after imagining all these steamy scenarios in my head, I suddenly found myself wondering if there were any dates left on the Lost Highway tour that I could possibly get to...you know...for CHARACTER RESEARCH.

Obviously, the thing that’s so laughable about that is, just a few months before I didn’t even own a Bon Jovi RECORD. And there I was, trying to figure out how to get to another concert, all in just a matter of weeks!

And just because I’m by nature a cynical sort, part of me was starting to wonder, what if Kansas City was just a fluke? Maybe under the influence of that boxed wine in that suite at the Sprint Center, I had gotten it wrong. What if I’m spending all this time conjuring up these elaborate stories about Jon Bon Jovi, when really, he’s not that great? I owed it to myself, particularly if I’m gonna write porn about him, to do some kind of scientific experiment and really prove that Jon Bon Jovi actually IS all that and a bag of chips.

YES.   I’ll do it in the name of SCIENCE.

Looking back, I think that was a critical time in my fanhood. I think when new fans come along, particularly at the end of a tour, they come to a fork in the road and have to decide whether they’re going to go off the deep end, so to speak, and spend big bucks on travel and concert tickets in the future to see them, or play it safe and just stay a casual fan. For me at least, the challenge of writing fan fiction kept me interested.

But really, go to another Bon Jovi show so soon after the first? How the Hell was I gonna pull that off?

Enter my newfound friends... my “enablers”...particularly Hath and Jovi’s Willow.

I couldn’t justify going to some random show in say, Detroit or somewhere I didn’t know anyone. But one day i was chatting online with Willow and she asked if I wanted to come up to NYC for the just-announced Central Park show. After all, the concert was free, and she had a free hotel room thanks to Hilton points. Basically all I had to do was find a way up there, and lo and behold, I had a free frequent flyer ticket that had to be used.

Hmmmmm.....a basically free trip...

I hadn’t been to NYC in ages, but then again, that seemed like an awful lot of trouble to go through just for a general admission concert, even in a cool location like Central Park. After all, there was no guarantee we’d even be close enough to SEE the band.

Willow had an answer for that too.

You should come for the Boston show right before Central Park.

Really? Was that even possible? I mean, I was positively giddy at the prospect of seeing them again (all in the name of science, of course). And maybe this time I could be close enough to really tell if JBJ is actually as hot as I remembered from Kansas City. Don’t get me wrong, as far as I’m concerned, Bon Jovi can reach right up into the rafters at a concert and make you feel it...but the lure of being in the front was inescapable.

So I decided then and there, if I could find a decent ticket for a reasonable price, I’d make the trip. If not, it was a fun idea but it wasn’t meant to be.

Just a few minutes later I was the proud owner of a 6th row floor seat, right on the aisle by the side stage, and my frequent flyer ticket had been booked.

Holy shit, what has come over me?

More importantly, what the fuck was I going to tell my husband?

So here’s how that convo went down:

Me: "So....remember how I went to that Bon Jovi concert in Kansas City a few months ago, and couldn’t believe how great it was?”

Mr. Sam: (grunts and nods without glancing up)

Me: "Well they’re doing a show in Central Park next month, and this woman that I know has a free ticket, plus she’s getting a hotel room using points.   And remember I have the frequent flyer ticket that needs to be used before the end of August?"

Mr Sam: (grunts again, still doesn’t glance up)

Me: "I was thinking that I could use that ticket and go up there. It would basically be a free trip. And it’s been forever since I’ve done anything fun like that, just for me. You wouldn’t have a problem with me doing that, would you?"

Mr. Sam: (shrugs and shakes head)

Me: Cool. Because there’s also a concert in Boston a couple of nights before. And since the rest of the trip is basically free, I was thinking I’d buy a ticket to that show.   It won’t be expensive and I’ll be with those same women I told you about.

This is when I could see the wheels start turning in Mr. Sam’s head, and I knew I was about to be in big, big trouble.

Mr. Sam: You’re a big girl. You can do what you want. But what’s gonna be in it for me since I’ll be left here dealing with the girls all by myself?

Now at that time, our daughters were 8 and 6 -- not exactly like I’m leaving him with infants, but still, he got the guilty response he was looking for.

Me: "Well...what do you want?"

Mr. Sam: "Blow jobs on command will make me forget all about this little fan crush you have on a rock star."

Did I mention Mr. Sam comes from a family of attorneys? He strikes a hard bargain, but at that point, I would have agreed to almost anything.

Me: "Ok, but this isn’t like an indefinite thing. I mean, I’m only gonna be gone for three days, so..."

Mr. Sam: "Thirty days should do it."

And that’s how I sold my soul to the devil for Jon Bon Jovi.

And now for a word from Zen Jon

ZJ: (evil chuckle) “I like your husband."

Me: "Shut up, asshole. My knees are still sore from that summer."

ZJ: "I was worth it though."

(Yes, Jon’s ego is just as big in my fantasy world as it is in real life.)

So I vividly remember being on the airplane on the way up thinking to myself, just a few weeks ago I was a relatively normal woman with a relatively normal family and a completely kick-ass job and a very busy schedule and now I’m spending every free minute I can on the internet getting deeper and deeper into this whole Bon Jovi thing, I’m even writing fiction (*cough* PORN *cough*) featuring BON JOVI for God’s sake! Is this the start of my mid-life crisis?

Well, the jury’s still out on that one, but i can tell you I was (and still am) having more fun in my forties with this whole Jovi thing than I ever did in my teens, and trust me, I had a LOT of fun as a teenager.

So you know what was so cool about the whole Boston experience (beyond how mesmerized I was watching beads of sweat form in JBJ's chest hair)?


Exhibit B: Heeeeere's Jonny!

The coolest thing, as much as the excitement of seeing my first concert as a FAN and being up close enough to get photos like the one above, was that I was meeting some of the most amazing fans on this journey, and among the first few were The Goddess Hathor, Jovi’s Willow, and Big Apple Jovi Girl (now known as Big Apple Jen). Seriously, it was like I was pledging some kind of rock fan sorority, and these women were my big sisters preparing me for initiation, only no white robes, candles or pink roses this time.

And we’re all lusting after the same guys (well except Willow and her occasional David obsession), but it wasn’t like that bitchy jealous sort of competitive thing women (and LOTS of Jovi fans) do -- it was almost like we were

SISTER WIVES!

So I get to the show and I’m having a great time watching everything and soaking it all up. There were some really psycho girls to my left but this VERY cool security guy stationed himself in the aisle beside me right as Jon was coming down to the side stage to sing Always. I think he figured out I was a newbie because he basically told me to brace myself once Jon started down and then shoved the women back when they were trying to crawl over me. (I could have used that guy at a few other shows, actually). After Jon finished, he was doing the walk back up on top of the rail thing (is he crazy or what?), then before he gets to me, he jumps down into the aisle.

Everyone was screaming and going nuts around me - it was like drowning in a sea of outstretched arms and people pushing. But for me it was like there was no one else there, he was in slow motion, coming down that aisle, a million hands grabbing and clutching him, and for one split second, we made eye contact and he had that sort of half-smile and I think I froze, and he reached out and brushed his fingers across mine as he passed, and I had this weird déjà vu sensation and wondered if he recognized me...

lol...yeah right...

But if he did, I can just imagine him thinking...

“Heh...Miss ‘It’s Bon Jovi, how good can they be?’ Well now ya know, honey.”

Oh, and by the way, if you’ve never been in the first few rows, if you’ve never had him look at you or touch you, if you’ve never had that split second when you feel that connection with him...

Take my advice. Run as fast as you can.

Because once you’ve had it, you want it again...and again...and again...

Jon Bon Jovi is my crack cocaine. And if you’re not careful, he could be yours too.

Lesson learned: Jon Bon Jovi is abso-fucking-lutely all that and a bag of chips.

THE SET LIST

Lost Highway
Born To Be My Baby
You Give Love A Bad Name
Raise Your Hands
Runaway
I Love This Town
I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead
Start Me Up
Whole Lot Of Leavin’
Any Other Day
Summertime
We Got It Goin’ On
It’s My Life
I’ll Be There For You
Make A Memory
Always
Have A Nice Day
Keep The Faith
Who Says You Can’t Go Home
Bad Medicine
Encore:
Wanted Dead Or Alive
Livin’ On A Prayer
Twist and Shout

It's Bon Jovi...How Good Can It Be?

2011-08-04T09:03:00.000-05:00

Kansas City
April 22, 2008

There it is. I can actually circle the date on the calendar when this former Jovi virgin got deflowered by Mr. JBJ himself.

It all started innocently enough with a business trip..

For those of you who don’t know me, I travel a lot for business. This particular trip was planned at the last minute and I was honestly looking for an excuse to get out of it. My colleague in Kansas City who was making all the arrangements “sweetened the deal” with a free ticket to the sold out Bon Jovi show my second night there. Little did she know, that actually made the trip even less appealing to me.

Now I know many of you have been “forever fans” and you’re probably shocked by that. Let me go on the record by saying I now wish I had the same history, because I’ve realized how much incredible music and how many amazing tours I missed out on. Not to mention the complete fuckability factor of Jon Bon Jovi from KTF onward.

And I'm really pissed that I missed these pants.

Hello Zen Jon. Have I mentioned how much I love that belt buckle?

But prior to that fateful day in 2008, whenever I thought of Bon Jovi, I imagined the hair metal band of my college years, and in college, my musical tastes veered in a completely different direction. My “mix tapes” included songs from The Police, Elvis Costello, Talking Heads, Depeche Mode, Nine Inch Nails...definitely not “pretty boys” who sported teased hair and pranced around in spandex pants.

So while I wouldn’t say I was a “Jovi hater,” they just weren’t on my radar. And over the years, I figured Bon Jovi was just like some of those other bands of the same genre who made it big in the late 80s and are still making a living by cranking out a few minor hits here and there but are basically living off their glory days.

Boy, was I wrong.

So I’m in Kansas City standing in this hotel lobby, trying to ignore the pounding in my head from the serious wine overload the night before. My colleagues and I are waiting for this guy we’re going to lunch with in the Country Club Plaza area, and I’m trying to think of any excuse I can to avoid this concert with the washed up hair band. I wanted nothing more at that moment than a naked nap in my dark hotel room upstairs with the A/C cranked up.

My friends are going on and on about how much they’re looking forward to seeing Bon Jovi, and I suddenly latch on to an idea. I’ll convince them to go to the show without me, because after all, how much fun will I be at the show? I don’t even LIKE Bon Jovi! Then I can rest up and get my game face back on for partying in the P&L District later in the evening.

I start to make my case and I think I’m being convincing, but they’re having none of it, reminding me that we’ll have free wine in the luxury suite at the Sprint Center so I have no excuse not to go. Suddenly, both of them get quiet, and I sense a man walking up to us and assume it’s the guy we’re meeting with.

I turn and extend my hand, and suddenly find myself face to face with Jon Bon Jovi...only I didn't realize it. Apparently, we have similar taste in hotels. :)

I can hear you all now. “Shit you say, Fiction Mistress! How could you not recognize JON BON JOVI?”

But at the time, I shit you not, I didn’t recognize him.

You see, I was still picturing 1987 Jon Bon Jovi -- Mr. Hairy in spandex. I had no clue that 2008 Jon Bon Jovi had turned into one of the most amazingly beautiful men I’ve ever seen, oozing sex appeal so thick you can practically cut it with a knife and a panty-melting smile that literally made me feel a little woozy.

It was like staring into the face of God.

And I say to myself, shit, if the guys in my industry in KC look like THIS, I’m MOVING.

So he realizes the sitch pretty quickly and I think he found it HIGHLY amusing, particularly when I realized who he was and stood there in stunned silence with my mouth hanging open, mentally replaying all the shit I had been saying about why I didn’t want to see Bon Jovi.

That’s when I got the crinkles next to the eyes along with the smile that made my panties go up in their own Blaze of Glory. Let me tell you right now, if Jon Bon Jovi talks to you, looks you straight in the eyes and gives you the genuine smile (not the “ok I’m smiling because you’re a fan but please don’t get too close to me” smile), you’d have to be blind, deaf and dumb to keep your knees from getting weak.

The whole conversation lasted maybe two minutes, and I can tell you they rank right up there as the most embarrassing two minutes of my life. But he was charming and sweet and very kind, particularly given the fact that I was so clueless about Bon Jovi. The hook was baited.

Long story short, I still wasn’t expecting to enjoy the concert, but that encounter intrigued me enough to agree to go. After all, if it turned out the show was boring, at least I had my free wine.

We get to the arena and make our way to the suite. I take my seat in the front row and look up at the video screens. They’re playing the “Til We Ain’t Strangers Any More” video on like a continuous loop -- the one where he’s rolling around on the bed in the middle of NYC with Leann Rimes.

Yes, I am now fucked.

I was mesmerized, sitting there with my glass of bad Chardonnay, and watched that video like ten times. When did Jon freaking Bon Jovi get so fucking sexy and I hadn’t even realized?

Then Bon Jovi took the stage and holy fucking shit.

Seriously, those nipples should come with a warning label. You could poke an eye out or something.

Then Jon smiles this smile that is just...well it makes you kind of tingly, you know? Who am I kidding? Tingly, my ass. I think I may have actually had a spontaneous orgasm right there in the luxury suite, fully clothed.

That concert will forever be burned in my brain. His voice...the energy...the set list of songs I was mostly unfamiliar with but loved immediately. The hook was set.

Then there was the moment during Bad Medicine/Shout when he ripped open his vest and prowled bare chested around the stage like some kind of caged panther about to attack. In case you haven’t seen this particular moment (or even if you have)...

The crowd went wild and he reeled me in. This Jovi Virgin had a cherry-popping epiphany and life as I knew it would never be the same.

That night, I was up until the wee hours of the morning, downloading everything I could find on iTunes by Bon Jovi and getting my first big taste of what was to come. (no pun intended) ;)

Maybe it’s because my expectations were low, but I left that arena feeling like I had had a religious experience -- had been born again, so to speak. In fact, one of my “Jovi virgin” friends whom I brought to the first Soldier Field show in Chicago last year likened the experience to how she “imagined Jesus Christ impacted the females of the Holy Land on the Loaves and Fishes Tour at the banks of Galilee.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Lesson learned: Jon Bon Jovi is a million times better than a naked nap in a dark hotel room (although if they could be combined, it would be a BILLION times better).

THE SET LIST

Lost Highway
Born To Be My Baby
Bad Name
One Wild Night !!! (ONLY time I’ve ever heard this live)
Runaway
Just Older
Sleep with Gimme Some Lovin’ and Start Me Up
Blood Money !
Blaze of Glory w/ Daughtry
Whole Lot of Leavin’
Misunderstood
Always
We Got It Goin’ On
It’s My Life
Bad Medicine with Shout
I’ll Be There For You
Make A Memory
Bed Of Roses
Who Says You Can’t Go Home
Have a Nice Day
Hey God
Living On A Prayer
Encore:
I Love This Town
Wanted Dead Or Alive

Join me in two days as the adventure continues in Boston, July 10, 2008.

Welcome To The Inside Of My Brain

2011-08-03T15:09:00.001-05:00

Over the past few weeks I’ve been contemplating this blog as a way to kick my ass out of the end of tour doldrums by looking back at all the cool, funny, and scary shit that has happened to me at Jovi shows over the past three years. So I’m thinking it will be, you know, kind of a no-holds-barred look at life in the Jovi fandom from the perspective of a new-ish fan.

And I’m also thinking this will be a way to placate everyone who keeps asking me to “blog” in addition to writing Jovi porn, but this one will actually have an END date, and I can finish it before my wine habit burns off all my brain cells and I forget everything that happened.

You should also know that there will be a lot of random cursing thrown in, because damn it, I like dropping a few F-bombs and I don’t get to do that very often in real life. I'll talk about sex a lot too. So if you're under 18, consider yourself warned.

I shared the idea with a few of my friends and some of them visibly paled, like I’m going to be giving away closely-guarded BJM secrets or something. (Duh, do I look stoopid?) Here’s a look at some of the enthusiastic responses I got:

Friend 1: (blank stare)   “Ooooo-kay, but make sure you don’t piss off the fans who have been around forever. Or if you do, don’t mention my name. Some of them are FREAKS.”

Friend 2: (long, perplexed pause) “Why the fuck would anybody want to read that? And if they do, they will just leave shitty comments that will piss you off, so why bother?”

Friend 3: “That could be cool, just don’t say anything that will make BJM think you’re a stalker.   They might keep profiles on "those fans" and you don't want to be on that list."

Jeez! It’s enough to make a girl reconsider blogging! So I go to my Zen Place. This is where Jon Bon Jovi lurks in my imagination in various stages of undress, but usually he’s shirtless and barefoot wearing jeans with the top button undone, rumpled hair, five o-clock shadow.   I’m sure you can picture it. He’s like my uber-sexy grown-up imaginary friend/fuck buddy.

So I look over at Zen Jon, and he’s looking delicious, as always.

Meet Zen Jon*

I try not to let myself be distracted by the girly sleeves on that shirt or the grey chest hair (even though it always gets me) and say “Why is it that they’re so worried about what I’m going to put in this blog?”

ZJ: (yawns and looks all sleepy-sexy, then removes the girl shirt. Still keeps that hot belt on though.) “No idea. It's just a blog.”

Me: “I know, right? Just a simple little blog where I can chronicle all my Jovi adventures for my own personal amusement."

ZJ: (rolls eyes and lays down on my big red couch like he’s going to take a nap. He clasps his hands behind his head and gives me the “duh, I don’t see the problem here” look, but I’m woefully distracted staring at his nipples.) “Just write what you want to write. If nobody reads or they leave shitty comments, who the fuck cares?”

Me: “You’re absolutely right, Zen Jon. This isn’t gonna be a snarky, disrespectful blog. I’m a lover, not a hater. This is just for my personal enjoyment, and if others find it entertaining, great. If not, well fuck ‘em.”

ZJ: “That’s my girl.”

Me: “Does BJM really keep profiles on fans?”

ZJ: (wicked grin)

Me: “Ok, well I’ll try really hard not to piss off Matt then. He’s gotten all big and muscle-y lately.”

Then, in my imagination, we have hot crazy monkey sex on my red couch.

Tune in tomorrow for the beginning of the journey.

Kansas City, 2008.

*Friend 2, who thinks this blog is a lousy idea because she's lost her sense of humor now that the tour is over, wanted you to know that she's really not a bitch after all since she sent me this fucking hot photo of Zen Jon. Her words, not mine.

Coming Soon...

2011-07-31T03:17:00.000-05:00

It's been a three year journey, this love affair with all things Bon Jovi. It started in Kansas City in April, 2008, and now as I sit in Lisbon, preparing for my final show, I'm reflecting on all my experiences (good and bad) and everything I've learned over the course of that three years.

Starting Wednesday, August 3, I'll post a chronological recounting of each show I've been to and all the adventures I've had, from the concerts to the hotels. That means I should finish up some time in September for those of you who want to keep count. :)

For any of you reading who think I might divulge things like where they stay in certain cities, think again. Most of you are smart enough to figure it out any way, but you won't hear it from me, so don't ask.

I'll share my stories, my photos, and link up some videos from my YouTube channel. Hope you enjoy the ride.

Here's the lineup of shows:

April, 2008 - Kansas City (night 2)

July, 2008 - Boston (night 2) and Central Park

February, 2009 - JBJ and Friends at the Starland Ballroom

April, 2009 - Las Vegas (The Joint at the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino)

May, 2009 - New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival

October, 2009 - Secret Show at NMS

November, 2009 - An Evening with Jon Bon Jovi at Alice Tully Hall

February, 2010 - Honolulu

March, 2010 - Denver, Kansas City, Philadelphia

April, 2010 - Dallas, Tulsa

May, 2010 - Hershey Park, NMS

July, 2010 - Winnipeg, Toronto, Chicago

October, 2010 - Gulf Shores

February, 2011 - Toronto, Montreal

March, 2011 - San Antonio, Vancouver

April, 2011 - New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival

May, 2011 - Montreal, Houston, Memphis

June, 2011 - Dublin

July, 2011 - Barcelona, Lisbon

Hope you enjoy the ride. Please try not to spill your drink. :)