| I Think I'm a Clone Now...and for good reason! 12/07/00 I begin the dream backstage at Central Middle School, in the downstairs dressing room. I am on tour with Al-on tour as in performing with him, not just along for the ride. (My dream has just come true-in a dream.) We’re sitting in there, freaking out. We are both as nervous as we’ve ever been, because the audience is composed entirely of people we know. Half Al’s acquaintances, half Muscanites. We’re dressed in identical Hawaiian shirts, black pants, shoes, etc. We’re pacing, bouncing, checking out our appearances in the mirror, anything we can do to relieve nervousness. A flunky pokes his head in the room and says “You’re late, come on, hurry up!” We look at each other and bolt for the stage. Where we discover that the band has already played “Gump”. (Without us?) We shrug and strap on our accordions. (Matching accordions. Exactly the same accordion type as in the video.) We launch into Polka Power! as in the concert. Here’s the deal. I’m performing with Al-I’m Al’s little clone. I’m his 5’5’’ Mini-Me. I’m dressed the same, act the same, dance the same, heck, we even sound the same. Seriously. So here’s how we did the concert: (this gets long. You’ve been warned.) Polka Power! starts off just like the video-except with both of us doing the lead vocal. And the accordion part. But we’d challenge-dance with each other; he’d do a move, I’d top it, he’d top that one, etc. It got pretty cool during the end. Moving on to the rest of the pre-costume pieces, we took Jerry Springer at its CD tempo (boy, is that a tongue twister!) I let Al have all the accordion solos during Eddie Vedder-and the Morrisette line (it didn’t work coming from me.) Now time for the costume changes. We changed off stage right, where there is virtually no room to change...it’s a good thing I had that marching band experience (putting on black tights on a bus filled with teenagers) to alter my modesty level downwards, because that could have gotten bad. ;) Dare To Be Stupid, indeed-we had two keyboards, and some funky new “double” choreography (dancing together but facing front.) That suit is hot. It’s All About the Silver Lame-I looked pretty darn good in the stuff (although Al looked better...) and it gets interesting, strutting and trying to avoid your co-singer as they’re strutting, and also letting your head fly up and down (this would be that neato strut that no one does as well as Al). Black mesh, although it may look stunning (you know it!) is itchy. Very itchy. (At least dream-mesh is.) Al and I writhed our little hearts out-separately-and collapsed on the stage in little tired piles. And now, it’s time for One More Minute. The stage manager (and his helper-not a clone) came out and helped us into our jackets. Mine was blue and zebra-fur print. We skipped the “I remember my mom used to tell me...” bit and skipped straight to shooting Ruben. Poor guy, there he is, waiting to play, and we turn around and shoot him. For some reason, Al decided to let me have this song as a solo and he would go out and distribute scarves and stuff to the audience. He gave away about fifty scarves, and about five boxers. At the conclusion of this song, I happen to see Sabrina (one of my friends) in the audience, laughing and clapping. Oh, and for Like a Surgeon...I got my leg behind my head (I was in a nurse’s outfit with pants) and hopped around the opposite way than Al. We finish out the show double-style. Can I just say that the world needs a strapless sports bra for those of us that have to bounce around in Wilma Flintstone loincloths? Enough said on that point. And Al and I were having fun in our Fat suits...every once in a while, we’d bounce off each other (accidentally) and send each other a good five feet off to the other side. But we hit the song note and word-perfect. Enter the Jedi. I was in a Leia-outfit with my version of the two side buns (braided) and we sang the songs...I managed a perfect Yoda chant. I now fully understand why Al gets so tired after his shows...I've lived one of them (albeit only in my head, but still...) So after we’ve taken our applause, bowed, and left the stage, we head out to the front lobby. (To greet the crowd, as I’ve done every time I’ve performed there in real life.) I think the band was following...but as Al and I strolled down the hallway, we were both thinking the same thing. “It’s over. Now I don’t have to be nervous anymore!!!” We looked at each other, smiled, and we turned the corner- and were greeted with a wave of people. “Look, it’s THEM!” The mob surged towards us. We backed up into the other hallway (the one they keep a metal grate locked over after school hours) and ran into the aforementioned grate. Suddenly, security leaps out and forms everyone into a line. The line stretches through the lobby, out the doors, up towards the street. Al and I greeted everyone in that line, shook hands, had pictures taken, signed hundreds of things...it took a long time. Eventually, the line died down and ended. Al then turns to me, pulls a box out from his brown cape (we were still in costume) and presents it to me. I open it up-it’s a concert scarf, printed with hearts and cartoon characters. Well, after we change back into normal clothes, we decide to go to my house to celebrate (the city being packed with Al and Megan fans...every hotel was filled, every restaurant overstocked.) I give him some directions, leap in my car, and tear off home. I get there first...I’ve driven my old car (the Hobo) so I get there a bit quicker than Al (who’s a bit more recognizable in his Z3.) I inform Mom and Dad that Al’s coming over and head down to the basement to clean up a bit. Al comes in the door...I hear him upstairs, greeting my parents and heading down the stairs. He looks around my basement (which is finished-it has carpet and couches and stuff, so it’s nice) and walks over in front of our bar. (Yes, I have a wet bar in my basement. No, I’ve never visited it.) He stands there looking at me... and virtually all my friends/acquaintances leap out from behind aforementioned bar and pounce on Al. There’s a flood of people coming out of there...at least twenty, maybe thirty or forty. They rip his keys out of his hand and start attaching Powerpuff Girl keychains to it (tiny models of Bubbles and Buttercup). They hand his keys back to him politely and run up the stairs giggling. (They sounded like they just got away with stealing a cookie from the jar... “Hee hee hee! We got away with it!”) Al looks at his keychain, which now resembles a blue-green bowling ball, shrugs, and puts it in his pocket (where it magically goes flat-it fit perfectly.) We decide to watch a movie to unwind from our incredibly successful show. We decide to watch the Neverending Story. For some reason, however, the story was completely different. Atreyu had become a green centuar, and Bastian was trying to break him-like in a rodeo, except it was just those two and a bunch of horses in a little thicket. So they make friends-Atreyu was a bit upset with Bastian for trying to ride him, but they made up-and hop into their car. (Car???) It was a very large old dark green car. Atreyu fit in the front seat-horse end and all. So they're in their dark green car, chasing after the Bad Guy-that's his real name-who was in a duplicate brown car. Attached to the backs of these wondrous vehicles are guns. At least fifty of them per car. Large guns. Lashed in place. Pointing backward. The two cars are manuevering around, driving at each other backward so they can use the guns to try and blow each other out of the water (figuratively speaking.) This goes on for a really long time. Al and I-who are watching this on my old XL-100 RCA TV-are in complete hysterics. This is the funniest movie on the face of the earth. We’re rolling on the floor, turning purple, tears in our eyes...this is the best comedy ever. Suddenly, I glance over at my computer-which is logged onto my email page-and look at the clock. It’s 7:00. In the morning. (Seven hours of a car chase...oy.) So, figuring the newspeople would love to get ahold of the news that Al was over until the next day, we decide to call it a night. Well, day...So he looks at me, I look at him, and I reach over, grab him, and plant a big ol’ kiss on him. (Call it post-show hysteria, where I get so hyper that I’m liable to do anything.) Then I realize what I just did, and scamper away like a frightened deer. I then discover my parents have set big white boxes on the steps. I don’t want Al to trip on them, so I start moving them. He’s still sitting down there a few minutes later, and when he gets up to leave, he stops right out of my sight around the corner of our stairs. I ask him to turn off the lights. “How?” I then get to explain how to use a wall switch. And how to walk. And how to climb stairs. And then I woke up. What can I say except Al, you’re welcome over any time...I promise not to try anything. ;) As long as this time, you can remember how to use the steps. My Take On It Next Dream |