Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Quit Playing Games...

Alright, for the last week I tried to hide the fact that I accompanied Christy to the Backstreet Boys, it just got out so fast. Although not as bad as the Brady Quinn pictures, I guess I should have assumed that I would make all kinds of webpages for this little stunt. There was no way to anticipate I would be in the Washington Post the next day, as well as DC101 within the week. Since my Backstreet affairs have been made fully public I'm glad I get to tell my side of the story.

No shit I would rather be backstage with AC/DC, Motley Crue, or Jovi, it just wasn't in the cards. My Backstreet alibi is a singular justification; the wife grew up singing "Quit playing games with my heart." From day one she repressed nothing about her love for Brian Littrell and the rest of the boys. While plans usually aren't made in Cooley household more than a couple days in advance, she made it clear two months in advance that we would be attending the concert. This was my "take the wife to the ballet and feel good about yourself" event for the year.

This Wolf Trap night was going to be Christy's 7th, yes 7th Backstreet concert, but I figured I could add to the ante of all of them. We made it through the gates and shortly after the opening act (Girlicious) began, we were headed backstage. I have to admit at this point even I was excited. What I mean is, really excited for her. This was as good for her as a full Playboy Mansion tour would have been for Lloyd Christmas.

We followed one of the production managers through some weird concrete building back towards what started looking like a locker room. Had Christy not been there, I'm not sure I wouldn't have recognized the two dudes who came around the corner, but by the tight squeeze in my left hand I knew we were in business. Christy crept out from behind me, her stomach a ball of nervous excitement and turmoil. Ignoring her rising panic, Christy began shaking hands with Brian Litrelle and Nick Carter.
On our way to the concert we talked about how it might go if we got to head backstage so now I laugh at the actual meeting. On their way out of the locker room Nick brought a football to be signed, so we bartered my autograph for a group picture. I'm ashamed that we were the random fans who couldn't get their digital camera to work so we had to try about 4 different pictures. Christy then explained the concert was my wedding present to her, which seemed cool to the guys. Then we talked about College Football and my golf shirt -- weird because it was fully described in the style section of the post the next day. Five more minutes filled with fledgling questions and the guys had to get ready for the show. Before we took off Nick proffered us better Event Tickets, but all was well with the ones we had and then we were off.

After making it back to our seats Christy says she could go home now and her night would have been complete. Before I was able to take her up on her offer the Backstreet Boys were punching at each other singing "Larger than Life" in an on-stage boxing ring. Most of the concert was a blur to me, but Christy can remember it with an adrenaline clarity. By the time we made it back to the car I couldn’t have asked for anything more. I'm sure our night will be talked about in my house like the Washington Redskins had just played the Super Bowl.

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