[Tim]

An unforgettable night at Uptown Theater
Part III of III
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The concert is over. Time to leave. I had that feeling familiar to many of you --- a positively blissful feeling that always settles in after seeing Gord perform. My family and I are weaving back & forth through the crowd on the way out of the theater. We thought of waiting around to try to meet Gord but decided that since we had done that once in our life (7
yrs prior) that we would just get back to the hotel. Plus we wanted to get the kids into the hotel pool to get them tired out so mom & dad
could get some sleep. On the short drive back to our downtown hotel, each of us talked about what was special about the concert. We all
had some really great memories.

We get back to the hotel, and the kids quickly change clothes so they can enjoy an hour in the pool before it closes at 11 PM. While changing clothes, my son shouts out: "I FORGOT MY SHIRT!" He left a shirt under his seat at the theater (he was wearing two shirts and had
taken one off). Don't ask me why he was wearing two shirts, he is free spirit when it comes to fashion choices. He was absolutely distressed that he left the shirt behind, and even more distressed at the thought of losing it. He demands that we return to the theater to
get it. Cindy and I want to just dismiss this ridiculous request, it was $10 at WalMart, tops. Young Tim raises such a fuss that I finally relent. My wife and daughter will remain at the hotel and Tim and I take the elevator down to the basement garage, get in the car and drive all the way back to the theater. I have my doubts that we would even be able to get back into the theater, but we'd never hear the endof it if we didn't at least try.

Traffic wasn't too bad on the 10 blocks back to the Uptown. The parking lot was nearly empty. We park and jog up to the front entrance and bang on the door. An usher in the lobby opens the door after some initial hesitation. We explain that we left a shirt up in the balcony. He lets us in, and Tim sprints up the stairs to where we were sitting and finds his shirt underneath his seat, right where he left it. He grabs it and sprints back down to the entrance lobby where the usher and I are waiting. Success! He retrieved his shirt. With luck, we could get back to the hotel and Tim could enjoy at least 30 minutes of swimming before the hotel pool closes at 11 PM. On our way across the street to the car, we noticed about 2 dozen fans milling about behind the Uptown Theater.

Tim and I looked at each other. Without a word, we knew what they were waiting for, and without a word, we changed direction and joined the small crowd.

"Are you waiting for Gordon and the guys to come out?"

"Of course, what else?"

I knew there would be no other choice but to join this small, loyal group and wait. Perhaps it was meant to be. We waited with the group
on the sidewalk by the street. In the alley behind the theater I could make out a few cars and a tour bus waiting in the night. A small security detail prevents us from walking down the alley toward the backstage door and the tour bus and other cars. A couple of young ladies make sure the rest of the group knows that they were "here first" and practically demanded that the line form behind them. I didn't mind, I knew if we saw Gord, he would stay there and greet everybody. We got behind the young ladies when this middle-age lady who ... um .... had a few too many, in a gravelly voice slurred out "Hey I've waited 25 years." Again, we didn't care, we just thought it would be
neat to parlay this "shirt retrieving" operation into an opportunity to meet The Man again.

Young Tim sends me across the street to get
the digital camera out of the car. I sprint back and grab the camera. Just before closing the door, I notice our "Harmony" CD on the seat (we were listening to it on the drive out from St. Louis). I grab the CD and a pen from the car and sprint back across the street, my heart pounding in anticipation.

We peer down the alley and in the darkness I'm sure I make out Rick Haynes walking about. I tell my son, and Tim yells out "Hey Rick!"
without hesitation. Rick Haynes turns and waves. A car with four shadowy shapes pulls down the alley and drives past our small crowd.
I wave to the car and two of the "shapes" wave back. I was to learn later that ¾ of Gord's band were in that car. Rick remained at the
theater.

Then I notice the unmistakeable profile of that lean figure with glasses. After a brief moment of conferring with Rick Haynes, it happens. Here comes Gord, a smile on his face as he approaches our diverse group. I turn my digital camera on to record a short clip. We were about 6-8 people behind in line, but we are close enough to hear some of the conversation. Young Tim is just about bursting with anticipation and
whispers in a shaky voice "That's really Gordon Lightfoot!!" I hear Gordon discussing John Denver with some of the fans. Gord himself
brings up the sad occurrence of Mr. Denver building his own experimental plane and then crashing and dying in it. The fans slowly
make their way through the line. Some of them tell Gord that they met him years ago. All of the fans are extremely appreciative of him.

The tipsy lady was immediately in front of me. When she got to Gord, I could barely understand what she was trying to say. But I did clearly see that the Gentleman Singer from Orillia was very attentive and kind in his attention. She actually asked him (and this is no joke) "Did I see you this afternoon in a yellow polka-dot suit walking around the parking lot?" Gord hesitated, gave a slight snicker and said "No, I'm too normal for that." After some further unintelligible comments, she gives him a hug and moves aside. I felt a degree of sadness for the lady.

Then my son and I are face to face with The Man. "Gord, thanks so much for playing "Hangdog" tonight, it meant a lot to me. (in a previous post, I discussed that I left a note on stage requesting that
song for my recently deceased father, who absolutely loved that song). Young Tim quickly asks: "Did you get our notes?" (Tim had
requested Carefree Highway or Summertime Dream). Gord replied: "Oh yes, I certainly did! I hit two of the three songs you asked for." I hand him the cover to my "Harmony" CD which he signed and handed back to me. We both thank him, then young Tim says: "Gordon, I met you 7 years ago and it's nice to see you again. I'm playing the guitar." (Tim
holds up his finger tips) See my calluses? Gord answers: "Oh yes, they're pretty good." Then he tells Tim: "You sound like a
singer." That was about the best compliment anyone could have ever given my son, and coming from an artist he admires so greatly, was a
gift beyond measure. Sensitive to the line of people behind me waiting to talk to The Man, I try to conclude things by asking: "Gordon, would you mind if I get a picture of you and Tim?"

"Of course!"

I snap the picture of the two of them, and then move aside. "Thanks so much, Gordon, lets go, Tim" I turn and walk a few steps, but young Tim lingered long enough to say: "You are a musical genius, thanks for the opportunity to meet you." When I turned around I saw
that my 14 year old son, and the greatest composer in the world, were in an embrace. It brought an instant lump to my throat. I regret
that I didn't have my camera ready, but was content with the thought that some moments are better left uncaptured. This was one of them.
One last "thank you" and we slowly, reluctantly, walked away.