It was a Friday night. March 1, 1991. The spring of my sophomore year in high school. I had spent years prior to this night combing magazine aisles for the latest issues of Bop! and Tiger Beat. I had collected pictures, decorated lockers and notebook covers and drew many a "River" with a heart dotting the "i" in his name. I saw his movies, watched all his t.v. interviews and even begged a movie theater manager for a poster of his WORST movie, all so I could have that gorgeous face to look at all.the.time. I was in lust.
My friend "G" & I set out for a local club downtown to see River's band "Aleka's Attic" perform at a benefit concert for our local food bank. The anticipation on the ride over to the venue had me in tears. Yes, I'm a crier. I was actually WEEPING at the thought of meeting my dream guy. That's a 15 year old for ya!
Here's "G" & I outside my parents home. I'm the one on the left rocking the tie-dye and acid washed jeans. Nice. What was up with my hair? I'll tell ya. My hair gets really light in the summer and I was growing it out, so there's a couple of inches of dark winter roots. I've never colored my hair. A decision I maybe should have re-thought back then.
Anyway, the happy look on my face is not only that I'm about to meet my dream guy, but that my parents have NO IDEA where I'm going tonight. Ha ha.
So, we make it to the venue and there are people EVERYWHERE. Not suprising because this event was well publicized and (imagine that) I'm not the only fan of River Phoenix in my town apparently. The nerve of some people. So, I elbow my way into the cigarette smoke-filled room and try to get a place to stand, remotely close to the stage. The venue wasn't huge, but nevertheless, it was hard to see the stage. The concert began and we were delighted to hear the very unique style of music that they performed. They had your typical guitar and drums, but they also featured an electronic violin and a trumpet. All the musicians were GREAT!
Here's River and his sister Rainbow singing a tune. River played lead guitar. Swoon! He was dressed so grunge that night. It was hot.
They performed several songs and then I watched while River was interviewed by a blonde reporter from the BBC. They sent a film crew all the way to my little town from England, just to film this little concert. I was SO jealous of that reporter. And she was totally macking all over River. Bleh.
This musical note is a sticker from my scrapbook that I couldn't remove. See, I had to pull these out of my scrapbook just to share them with you. I'll do anything for my readers!
This was a shot of the whole band with the
So, after the concert, River came out into the audience to be with his
I made my way through the droves of people and spotted him sitting at a table fawning all over a girl who was 2 years ahead of me at my school. I know I turned green with envy as I saw him taking a drag off her cigarette and laughing close to her face. How could that hussy steal my man? I marched over to him and stuttered a "Hi! Great concert!" He looked up for 2 seconds and shot me a smirk. And then, I held out a piece of paper and asked for his autograph. He looks up again and says "I don't do autographs." As the tears started to well up in my eyes, I know that a look of horror must've come across my face. Did he really say that to me? But, I'm his
I guess the look on my face and the thought of dashing the hopes and dreams of an innocent starry-eyed teenager were just too much for him. He took the paper, scrawled his initials and handed it back to me and that was it. I walked away, somewhat disillusioned, but with a piece of my guy forever.
The picture isn't good, but I wasn't ripping the paper out of my scrapbook to scan. If I ruined it, I would cry all over again. But, there it is. His autograph. Sigh.
And so, was it all I thought it would be? No. Am I glad I met him in person. Yes. Do I miss him? Terribly.
And that was the night that I met River Phoenix.
