Don't stop believin'
Walking through the bustling hallways of the Venetian Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas, I noticed four guys dressed in rock-star getup. They were middle-aged and wore the faces of those who have been unwittingly whisked to strange cities all around the world.
Not knowing who they were, their presence immediately attracted my attention. So did the cameraman following them, recording their every move onto high-definition media. I knew they were a rock band of some sort, but I had no clue which one.
It was the 1980s supergroup, Journey.
People stood around them, but at careful distances. One woman, who was clearly as confused as I was, caught my attention. "Who are they?" she asked. I said I didn’t know.
I didn't want to come home to my friends and tell them about this rock band that I probably saw walking through a casino. I didn't want to spend countless hours on the internet, hopelessly looking through Google Images and trying to match the faces with what I saw. I wasn't going to let this happen. I had to find out, right there and then.
Talking to a hostess standing at the front of some expensive Vegas restaurant, the band was very friendly and chatty. They sung her a song, which sounded familiar and contained the words "open arms" on the hook. They finished up, and started walking deeper into the hotel's casino. I planted myself in their path.
Steve Augeri, tall and dressed in black, walked past. I caught his eye and nodded a quiet, "hey". He smiled.
"Big fan," I added, still having no clue who he was.
At this point, he did kind of a double take. "Hey," he said, and motioned his cameraman over to where I was standing. “This guy’s a big fan!”
Oh, shit.
He walked over and shook my hand. A warm, courteous smile filled his face. A beam of bright light from the camera filled mine.
"What's your name?" Augeri asked.
"Leif."
"How are you doing, Leif?"
“Oh, pretty good."
"Pretty good? Is that all? Come on, I'm touching you!" He shook my hand and smiled at the camera. Everyone around me laughed at my facade of modesty. I on the other hand, was scared shitless that he would ask me what my favorite song was. "Have you seen the band live?"
"Oh no, not yet."
"Where are you from?"
"Wichita, Kansas."
"We're coming to Wichita. Keep an eye out for it. Def Leppard."
"Wow, thanks."
"See you."
He and the rest of who I now thought was Def Leppard turned and walked into the casino. People, now realizing what was happening, started running in their direction. I followed for a bit, in hopes of a picture, but decided that it was best to go our separate ways (worlds apart).
I lied to Steve Augeri of Journey. It is a great feeling.
Not knowing who they were, their presence immediately attracted my attention. So did the cameraman following them, recording their every move onto high-definition media. I knew they were a rock band of some sort, but I had no clue which one.
It was the 1980s supergroup, Journey.
People stood around them, but at careful distances. One woman, who was clearly as confused as I was, caught my attention. "Who are they?" she asked. I said I didn’t know.
I didn't want to come home to my friends and tell them about this rock band that I probably saw walking through a casino. I didn't want to spend countless hours on the internet, hopelessly looking through Google Images and trying to match the faces with what I saw. I wasn't going to let this happen. I had to find out, right there and then.
Talking to a hostess standing at the front of some expensive Vegas restaurant, the band was very friendly and chatty. They sung her a song, which sounded familiar and contained the words "open arms" on the hook. They finished up, and started walking deeper into the hotel's casino. I planted myself in their path.
Steve Augeri, tall and dressed in black, walked past. I caught his eye and nodded a quiet, "hey". He smiled.
"Big fan," I added, still having no clue who he was.
At this point, he did kind of a double take. "Hey," he said, and motioned his cameraman over to where I was standing. “This guy’s a big fan!”
Oh, shit.
He walked over and shook my hand. A warm, courteous smile filled his face. A beam of bright light from the camera filled mine.
"What's your name?" Augeri asked.
"Leif."
"How are you doing, Leif?"
“Oh, pretty good."
"Pretty good? Is that all? Come on, I'm touching you!" He shook my hand and smiled at the camera. Everyone around me laughed at my facade of modesty. I on the other hand, was scared shitless that he would ask me what my favorite song was. "Have you seen the band live?"
"Oh no, not yet."
"Where are you from?"
"Wichita, Kansas."
"We're coming to Wichita. Keep an eye out for it. Def Leppard."
"Wow, thanks."
"See you."
He and the rest of who I now thought was Def Leppard turned and walked into the casino. People, now realizing what was happening, started running in their direction. I followed for a bit, in hopes of a picture, but decided that it was best to go our separate ways (worlds apart).
I lied to Steve Augeri of Journey. It is a great feeling.