"You happy now?" Todd toyed with the audience after he played one of his old songs, "I Saw the Light."
"Me happy now, Todd!" my voice still able to scream at that time.
Since I was twelve, I have had a mad crush on Todd Rundgren. I imagined that one day we would be married (couldn't he feel that this was so right?), so I practiced (over and over again) writing my first name in front of his last name, just in case.
When I was seventeen, I saw him in concert for the first time. Towards the end of the concert I made a mad dash for the stage (storming the stage as we called it back in the day before so much visible brute security). There I was running down the main isle like a teenage bride in blue jeans and a T-shirt. I made it all the way and managed to grab his extended hand. I held Todd's hand. I could live with that if nothing else.
The years went by - boyfriends, husbands, children, life in general - but no signs of Todd. Oh well, I knew I couldn't have everything I ever wanted. Still, deep inside was that teenage girl with a crush and a dream that lived on, and no one could deny me that painful pleasure.
Now, some thirty years later I am sitting a few rows away from the stage at the State Theater and on the stage Todd is playing guitar and singing lead vocals for The New Cars. I am thrilled; a giddy teenager all over again. I look at the aisle. I try to cast the thought from my mind. I am an adult woman now. I can't go screaming down that isle. Stop it.
In the end, I didn't do it. I kept my composure and God rewarded my newfound mature behavior. After the concert, as I walked along the outside of the building towards to parking lot, Todd exited the stage door to get into his tour bus. There were only about five or six of us (fans) around and we called for him to come over. He did, ever so graciously. And in that moment, my teenager with a crush became a woman filled with respect for this man who has gifted the world with his musical and songwriting talents, his creativity, innovativeness and genius mind. And with that, I shook his hand and had him autograph my ticket stub (thanks to a man who had a pen). I met Todd Rundgren. I could live with that if nothing else.
Now, with an hour and a half into the official day of giving thanks, I can add to my long list of things for which I am grateful to God: Todd Rundgren, the end of a very long teenage crush, and, oh yeah, the man with the pen.
So, back to life. Ah, but what a sweet slice of the pie that was, and before dinner. (That's not cheating, that's called living!)
And no matter what happens from this point on . . . wherever life takes me . . . I will still remain hopeful in some quiet way because as Todd once wrote . . . A Dream Goes on Forever.