Desperately Seeking George

Life is sometimes a journey of self-discovery, and last night, I made several important discoveries about myself: I am a crazy potty-mouthed creeper stalker who should NEVER quit my day job to become a paparazzi.

Yup. 'Tis true. Here's how the evening - and self-discovery - unfolded:

Last night, Hubby and I attended a fundraiser here in town for our local American Red Cross chapter. The event was two-fold: a cocktail party to kick things off, followed by a program with famed political advisors Mary Matalin and James Carville.




Dress was business casual, so here's a photo of Hubby and I, looking quite dignified and refined, if I do say so myself, before we set off for our evening of fun:




We arrived at the cocktail party, along with 700 other guests, and nibbled and noshed and chatted with what few people we knew. I was behaving myself rather nicely, putting on my best social airs and graces and manners that my Mama tried to instill in me. Yes, all was going well at this point....


Soon, it was time to head across the street to the theater, where the program would be held. As Hubby and I settled in our seats, it was then that I made a very startling discovery...as I was perusing my program, where the donors were listed, I happened to see these names pop out:



Leslie and George Brett...???

"HOLY PINE TAR, BATMAN!" I squealed...much to the astonishment of those sitting around me.

"WHAT??!!" Hubby answers, imagining that I've done something truly horrible, like forgetting to turn the oven off at home or something else just as horrible....

"LOOK!" I point out George Brett's name in the program..."It's George Brett!!!! The most famous professional baseball player to EVER play in Kansas City!!!!"

Not to mention the guy that I spent most of my pre-teenage years crushing on big time. He was my Justin Bieber, David Cassidy and Robert Pattinson rolled into one. Sigh. George was the whole reason why I dreamed of playing professional baseball when I was a little girl.

"I don't remember seeing HIM at the cocktail party," I said...with a bit of suspicion. Seriously...I would have noticed him - so was he perhaps HIDING from me?? Did he KNOW just how obsessed I am with him??

A bit dryly, Hubby answers, "There were ONLY 700 people at the cocktail party...I'm sure you just didn't see him. Besides...he most likely just made a donation by mail, and he's probably not even here...he's probably playing golf in Pebble Beach or something."

Drat. Hubby was right. What would be the likelihood of the famous George Brett attending an American Red Cross fundraiser??? Not very much. Sigh. I settled back in my seat, waiting for the program to begin in a few minutes...

...and then...that's when I saw...three rows up ahead of me...

...none other than GEORGE BRETT himself coming down the row to find his seat!!!!!

"HOLY CRAP!!!!" I squealed, smacking Hubby's arm to point out the unbelievable sight of George Brett less than 10 feet in front of me....(and I do have to say, George's wife Leslie was with him, and she was looking as beautiful as ever...sigh.)

Hyperventilating a bit, I immediately reach into my purse for my camera, as Hubby looks at me, horrified.

"WHAT are you doing??!!" he hisses..."You can't take a picture! If that camera flashes, EVERY person in here is going to look at you to see what you're doing!!!! And they're going to KNOW that you're a crazy creepy stalker!!!!"

Drat. He had a point. Did I really want 700 of Kansas City's finest looking at me with horror and disgust?? To give you an idea of just how crowded this theater was, here's a photo of the crowd:





Thinking fast, I come up with a perfect solution. Fine. I'll turn the flash off. Then, these particular 700 people won't KNOW that I'm a crazy creepy stalker. So that's what I did. I turned the flash off and took the photo. And here's the photo I took:


FANTASTIC photo, yes?


That's the back of George's head, if you can't figure it out.

Yeah...I don't think the paparazzi have anything to worry about with me. Their jobs are safe.

Frustrated with my inability to document this momentous occasion with photographic proof, I gave up trying to be a crazy creepy stalker and focused on the program, which turned out to be extremely fascinating.


Steve Kraske, the moderator, with Mary Matalin and James Carville....


Mary is a staunch Republican, while her husband, James, is a staunch Democrat...I came away from this, thinking I would LOVE to sit at THEIR dinner table every night to listen in on the conversations....

...of course...that would probably make me a crazy creepy stalker, and we don't want people thinking THAT, do we??!!


Peace.