Took the punks last night to the Days of 47 rodeo up in Salt Lake. It is rodeo season and I luv luv luv a good rodeo. Growing up we'd go to the local rodeo's. The fun of going to your local rodeo is you know the boys/men/gals competing and it is fun to root for your local boys/girls/bovines/broncs/roosters/etc. etc/ etc. Okay, maybe not roosters........
We had a great time. This punk here in my arms that makes my heart melt every time he looks at me was glued to the scene the entire evening.
At about half time the announcer announced that he would like to welcome a special guest to the rodeo and then welcomed President Dieter F. Uchtdorf! WHAT???? You mean to tell me that there is a person of EXTREME importance sitting a few rows down from me???? A prophet and apostle of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is a few rows down from where my punks and I were sitting. NO WAY!
I thankfully am able to report that I DID contain and control myself through the rest of the rodeo and only took a few/ several sneak peeks trying to get a better look but I didn't disturb him. I promise.
After the rodeo people cleared out and I was busy trying to make sure I had all of my punks located. As they were filing out of our row I looked down and there was President Uchtdorf with his family standing around talking.
Ooooh the lows I have sunk to. All of the vows and pledges I had made.......the "I will never......." BROKEN!
I grabbed my punks and shoved them ahead of me and ran them up to the poor man and then all intelligence at that point left. Left me high and dry and I just sat there staring at him with a grin on my face. Didn't shake his hand.......didn't say anything........just stood five feet away from him and slobbered and ogle eyed him.............oh wretched soul that I am..........
He must encounter pathetic creatures such as I often. He smiled that wonderful smile of his, looked each of my punks in the eye and waved to each of them. My punks behaved well. They smiled and waved back while their mother continued to make a fool of herself.
The whole drive home I cursed myself and thought, "ya could have at least opened your mouth and said something like........I dunno.............HI?"
I'm still having nightmares over my reaction and the day is half gone!
This morning I caught this punk writing in his journal. Bet he is writing about how humiliating it is to have a mother who must now put herself up there with the people she had always thought a bit on the snortin' too much crack side.............
There was a moment when I did stop ogling and noticed a young cowboy who'd competed that evening. His parents I am assuming were trying to get him to walk up and Shake President Uchtdorf's hand. I couldn't hear the dialog but could understand from the body language what was taking place. The young man kept wiping his hands on his jeans and then shaking his head at his parents showing them that his hands he felt were too dirty.
I was touched actually............at least he had his head on straight unlike some people I know......
Lawsy mercy! This punks dimples go straight to my heart and soul.
Okay. Now I will tell you how my college friends and I went to a play or dance concert or something up in Salt Lake, and when we got up to leave - who should be just down the row but - Bruce R McConkie!!!! Or at least, somebody who really, really looked like him. I was overcome. I slid along the emptying row behind him, got up to him. Took his hand, blurted, "I love you," then burst into tears and ran away.
ReplyDeleteI wonder to this day if it was just some nice older man who was left blinking after me wondering what all that had been about . . .
Then there was the time when I was a dental assistant - actually the receptionist - and Robert Redford came in, ostensibly during lunch. Of course, he being himself, managed to be late so that other people could be struck dead with surprise, seeing him in a mortal sphere.
I was NOT going to be impressed. But my hands kept shaking and my heart beating hard - even though I thought he was a big dweeb. Finally, as he left, I stuck a note into his hand and asked him to give it to one of his old co-stars, Sam Waterson (who is a big TV star now) and asked if he could get it to him.
Redford looked a little confused, but graciously thanked me in behalf of his friend. And that was that. Until the day I got a return letter in the mail from said young hearthrob. So Mr. Redford was NOT a dweeb after-all (even though I almost killed him one day when he was coming down the mountain too fast and too far over in my lane on the Alpine loop on his motor cycle). He did a kind and out of the way thing for me.
So there're my stories. Famous writers don't do the same thing to me anymore . . .
I probably would've done the same exact thing. I love him!
ReplyDeleteI admit that when I met a celebrity I remained completely cool and left my dignity in tack. In fact, you were there to witness the whole situation. Remember? You would think that having had a better example set for you that you would of done better. Hee!
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