Prelude to THE HUG
It was interesting to re read these hug stories that I wrote immediately after my experience. I am sure that the person I was describing there in January 2004 is NOT the person you would encounter if you were to meet him in the same circumstances today. Just as his voice is different (I listened to MOAM this afternoon for the first time in months and was literally open-mouthed at the "freshman" quality in the sound of his voice. He has grown so much as a singer since that CD was released.)
Similarly, the Clay that was nonplussed and awkward, yet still eager to please his fans, dealing with the crappy production and organization of the Seacrest show that day---that Clay is gone. He has undergone, by necessity...by Darwinian necessity---a metamorphosis. He is no longer the young novitiate, aware of the need to please, no matter what, in order to build and ensure his success.
I imagine the Clay today would tell the producers of that show to go piss in the wind....but in a very mannerly, Southern gentleman kind of way, of course.
I imagine that some crazy and overzealous fans since then---the ones that grab him as he opens his arms and smiles and tired body to them at the buses after his concerts--might have made it so that he would NOT turn at the sound of a fan's "Clay!" as he was walking away from yet another appearance to please.
Not because his heart has changed or the man inside has changed. I continue to cling to my deep belief that he is who we dream him to be; that is, who we feel in our hearts that he is.
I just know that he is no longer a "freshman". He is learning the business and the skills he needs to be a survivor. I hope he is because I'm so damned selfish. My heart skips at the thought that I can't continue to hear his voice, see him, watch him perform for me...be Clay to more than just a lucky circle of family and friends.
But it's a bittersweet wish come true if he does. Because he will be too big of a star to be that same vulnerable, "deer in the headlights" Clay I stood next to in February. The thought that he could now, today, stand among a group of 30-40 women and girls as he did that day---outside, no fences, no ropes, nothing between us and him, no Jerome or ANY security for that matter in sight---for long minutes of...nothing...of waiting...with 60-80 arms and hands within touching distance of him....
It just couldn't be anymore, could it? And so, even though that afternoon WAS odd in some ways...I am SO very grateful I have it...and still incredulous that he turned and walked back to hug me. Damn, he didn't have to at all. He didn't. No one would've thought a thing about it if he hadn't. He was finished, for god's sake! It was the end and he could finally get the hell out of there. And no one would've thought any less of him...it wasn't expected of him by anyone...especially not me!
But the fact that he did..and that he could smile at me genuinely and be the first to reach for me and then not just pretend to hug me, but instead really press his hands into my back and his face against mine...
It all just confirmed what I had been thinking as I had been watching and staring at his painfully beautiful profile and then into his eyes as he looked at me, and he did...he really LOOKED at me.
He is not like other men. He is special. It's in his eyes...you can't miss it. You can't help but know when you and he look at each other. He is special.THE HUG: FOREPLAY(written Jan. 2004; edited June 2005)
January 2004 was just another month. Except for one thing: That was the month and the year that Clay Aiken took me in his arms and pressed me to him in a sweet hug.
But other than that? I got nuthin’.
It was a last minute decision—that flight to and from Los Angeles to go with my new Clay buddy to Ryan Seacrest’s new (and now invisible) television show. Clay was going to be a guest. It wasn’t the first spontaneous decision involving Clay. I had already spent three days over New Year’s with this new Clay friend...whom I hadn’t met in person before I pulled up in my soccer mom van into her driveway...just two months earlier.
But I digress.
This day was my first opportunity to actually see Clay in person. I hadn’t seen him in the AI2 Tour...so I was still a virgin, in that regard. In any case, the four other women and I who went and stood in line that morning had only one thing on our minds---getting as close as possible to Clay Aiken.
It didn’t look promising. The studio seats were already filled by the show’s design and some chance, and seeing a large outside area being roped off, we pretty much filed away our expectations for the next time. Again through a combination of design and chance—our own this time---we ended up in a smaller outside grouping of fans—maybe thirty or so---that were directed to a huge concrete version of a chaise lounge. The production crew called it “The Couch”. Across an expanse of cement courtyard from us were the huddled masses---neatly cordoned off with that hated orange tape and stanchions. They were crowded many, many people deep and we thanked our lucky stars that we hadn’t ended up in that herd.
We had been told that Clay was going to do his interview with Ryan inside the studio first and then would come outside to talk with some of the fans. We were looking forward to that just a teeny bit. Our pleasant anticipation turned to panic, though, when mouths started mumbling that Clay was scripted to go to the huddled masses for this chat rather than to our smaller, more civilized gathering around “The Couch”. Things were getting ugly.
Ever the shy one, I walked over to a producer guy who had talked with us about cheering, etc., and said, "Excuse me, but there are disturbing rumors going around that Clay ISN'T going to come out here to us today—us right over here, that is. Some nasty people are suggesting that you guys might lead him to.....THOSE people over there instead. Could you please avoid numerous EMT situations by assuring me that he is indeed going to be...er...coming right here?"
He looked at me and said, "Who's saying that? Look here..." Then he flipped through his set direction book and found the page he was looking for. He plopped his finger on one of many yellow-highlighted lines and said, "Read this." So I did. And it said, "Clay interacts with fans outside at The Couch." Then the director guy said, "That's what I take my orders from. Whoever said different is nuts."
I said (slurping drool back into my mouth), "Oh YUMMY! Er...I mean, that's great! But could you do me just a itsy bitsy favor?” He looked at me suspiciously. “Could you please change that to read, "Clay interacts with AMY outside ON the couch?” He looked at me---this time with just a tiny trace of fear flashing in his eyes before he narrowed them----I guess to see if I was serious. I mean, I can understand that. There ARE some real....”enthusiastic fans” out there. But when he saw my snarky smile and my eyebrows waggling, he laughed and said as he walked away, "Get out of here, you..."
So finally, Clay walked out. I watched him head over to us and then just...watched him. My first impressions: he seemed shorter that I had imagined him. I'm just shy of 5’ 9" and my husband's 6', so when he was actually standing close to me, it seemed...normal.
Those of you who might know me are aware of how fervently I admire ALL of Clay’s assets. I have to confess though, that regardless of all my huffing and puffing about looking forward to checking out certain things....It wasn't until we were back in the car that I realized I HAD NOT EVEN LOOKED AT HIM BELOW THE SHOULDERS! I HAD NO IDEA WHAT KIND OF PANTS HE HAD ON OR WHAT KIND OF SHOES ADORNED THOSE PLATYPUS FEET. IN FACT, HE COULD HAVE BEEN WEARING ONLY BLACK SILKY BOXERS AND I WOULDN'T HAVE NOTICED! Well, wait a minute...the bare chest might have caught my attention. But....
I could not take my eyes off his face; I am serious.
He was friendly and smiley with the group, but there was quite a bit of confusion on the part of the show staff that day. Evidently, Mandy Moore and Trista & Ryan---the BIG stars---canceled at the last minute, and the production staff was crazy. It was obvious that there was a lot of miscommunication and ad libbing happening in the show content.
So while we all just stood there waiting for the cameras to roll or SOMETHING to happen, Clay started looking up at the huge jumbotron thing, watching what Ryan was doing inside the building. I’m sure you know those pictures. Clay squinting in the bright sun, wearing that brown shirt just like Ryan’s? Well, that was the Clay I was standing oh-so-close to...at the very moments those pictures were taken! He was looking in our direction but up, and my buddy and I had a breathtaking extended view of him looking up in profile, his neck gloriously exposed (We later discussed at length the evidence that he was NOT wearing an undershirt!) ABSOLUTELY HEAVENLY NECK, BY THE WAY! I had never been a neck person before that day.
I was aware that we were staring and I thought briefly about his comment in an earlier interview about how rude he thought it was for people to stare, but I couldn't help it. I was within an arm’s length of him, for God’s sake! I did pull my face away for a moment in mock interest at the screen, but then I thought, "What the hell am I doing watching Ryan on a big TV screen when Clay is standing within reaching distance of me basically posing for me?" So my eyes gravitated back to .....
that face....I was truly mesmerized. I could not take my eyes away from his face. I never thought that would happen to me, but I was drinking in every detail of that truly remarkable face...I saw the heavy makeup, his "reach out and touch me" red stubble, his perfect nose in profile, and his MOUTH! Every time he licked his lips---and he did that a lot---my eyes would flicker to follow the tip of his tongue as it swept over those perfectly shaped lips. And I stared at his ears (they're really cute!), at his hair--which looked really good, by the way---his eyebrows and.....his eyes...Now you guys know that I'm a mouth, lips and tongue woman, but gals, I could not get enough of the man's eyes. His lashes are obscene, lush and long and thick---very, very light and I was staring so hard and was so close I even noticed a little fleck---maybe makeup or something---on his left upper lashes. I am still congratulating myself that I was able to keep my...uh...fingers away from those lashes to gently remove that little fleck.
Because I really, REALLY wanted to do that for him.
But his eyes...they....simply glow...There's a shining, luminous quality to them, whether he's looking at you or at some screen full of pixels. There's something in there that is absolutely magnetic, dangerous, inviting, seductive, peaceful, sensual, comforting, full of...good things...you can't help but feel better looking into those eyes. I can't explain it...I really can't.
Anyway, eventually it became evident that whatever had been planned for him out there wasn't happening. They had given him a microphone that he held for a long time (I know this because I studied the way those long fingers and wide palm cradled and occasionally caressed the lucky thing.); cameras were focusing on us, but their red lights never came on. In the pictures you might be able to see Clay’s discomfort. I could feel it.
We know now how he dislikes surprises---not knowing what’s going to happen; and this day, there was a general feeling in the air that no one really knew what they were doing. There wasn’t even any obvious security around him. No Jerome, no staff standing between him and us. There was NOTHING between Clay and us, actually. Now I wonder at that and know that such a situation couldn’t happen today. Too much has changed. He is more careful now. Some ‘fans’ have made that necessary and his success has made it inevitable. That day, although we fans were considerate and sane, it was still a situation in which I think he felt uncomfortable. Knowing now how he dislikes being vulnerable in crowds, I’m amazed at his composure and grace that day.
Then, out of the blue, he was being pulled away by the staff. People started asking him for autographs and pictures, but he was being taken away. They brought him back yet again, but when the requests began again for pics and autographs, he said politely to our little group that he really couldn't, because if he did it for one or two, he'd need to do it for everyone. (Even the huddled masses across the way, I suppose.) But he did reach his hand out to the people in the back to touch them and he was smiling and talking with people. At one point he said to someone, "I've met you before, haven't I?" One of the younger girls right up front and on the other side of him asked for a hug and he gave her one without hesitating.
Then, of course, other girls near her asked, too, and he did. I was standing on the left area in front of the couch and for the most part the younger babes were on the right side. That was where the hug requests were coming from, so he was facing away from me then. I enviously watched him dispensing quick hugs when the staff called him to leave again, and I suddenly realized that he could walk away without even turning around again since the exit was in the direction he was already facing.
Part of me was thinking about not wanting to intrude or push myself on him, being respectful of him and not wanting to be one of those fans who step over the line....but another part of me was saying, "AMY! Will you be this close to Clay ever again? Will this opportunity ever present itself again? How old are you again? "and so I said, "Clay!"—never really expecting him to acknowledge the cry.
But he did.
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THE HUG & THE AFTERGLOWI had stood there not 3 feet away from his back as he favored some lucky girls with hugs and smiles and I thought, "If they take him now, he'll just move and never even look back this way again. I will probably never have this chance again" so I just said, "Clay" and he turned around! I really didn't even expect him to respond because it really seemed as if he was on his way...
Then all these things were going through my head like "OMG, Clay Aiken is THIS close to me, looking at me...he's so gorgeous...holy crap! Dear God, those EYES!” I was caught in his eyes and thinking how very badly I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I had a sudden grip of panic. “OMG! Now what? He’s looking at me! He’s right there! Now what? Lord, I can see his freckles. He’s looking right AT me...right in my eyes. I’m burning. Lord, those eyes.”
At the same time I was so respectful of him, so admiring of the graciousness he had shown in this obviously awkward situation, at his generosity with us, the GENUINENESS he exudes, and the soulfulness and goodness that just oozes out of his face...and I didn't want to take advantage of that...so I just said---and he really LOOKED at me, directly into my eyes, and LISTENED--- "Clay, you know...I came down from San Francisco today just to see you." And I smiled and took a hesitant step toward him. My friend tells me that he then said "Oh, really?" and smiled, although I honestly don't remember that. I know that I then lifted my arms a little and started to say "I'd really like a hug, too?", but before I even got to “like”, he had moved forward, put his arms up toward me and we were hugging!
He put one arm around my shoulder and the other around my back, and I complemented him with the same embrace reversed. Our heads pressed against each other and we both gave a little squeeze with our hands on each other’s backs.
AARRRGGGHHH! I was telling myself so many things...like "OOOH I'm gonna give him a bear hug and just meld into him and get one of his famous bear hugs back, etc.", but instead I found myself imprinting the feeling of his hands on my back---his fingertips pressing into my skin---the slight friction of his stubbly face, crunchy hair and flattened ear against me, his shoulder and back under my hands. I was so aware of keeping my lower body away from his! Can you believe that? ME? I just....RESPECTED him too much to even THINK about POSSIBLY embarrassing him or making him feel uncomfortable, so I kept our contact disgustingly "appropriate".
The main thing I felt was how very, very thin he was...My hand on his back felt hard bone and his skin moved with my pressure on it. I also felt how narrow his torso was...how almost fragile he felt. He was much thinner than he looks in most of his pictures. [Note: Clay has certainly ‘filled out’ since February 2004, but at the time of this hug, he was most definitely closer to that skinny guy on AI2.]
I was just so grateful that he would do what he was doing---turn around after starting to leave---after being told to move on by the production crew---and then willingly give yet another hug when he was obviously at sixes and sevens with the way the show was going--and I was thinking of so many things I wanted to say to him--to thank him for being so gracious to his fans and for being so generous in sharing not only his glorious voice and talent with us, but for selflessly sharing so much of himself, for giving up his anonymity; and that he is touching people in ways he will never know and that he's SO making a difference every day now...in big and small ways...and about our message boards and the friendships he's responsible for and....all that stuff. But I didn't...
So while we were standing there for that brief time with our arms around each other...for me the unreal moment of having my very arms around this man I've come to love so much...for him the umpteenth embrace with someone he doesn't know and will probably not remember even minutes later...all I could do was turn my cheek toward his and say a quiet "Thank you" into the side of his head that was against mine. It seemed so…not enough.
I hope he heard me.
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THE HUG: POSTSCRIPTI'm going to need some time to recover from this encounter before I can resume my lecherous appraisal of this man. After this rather mind-altering experience with Clay and then after falling into a heap of tears and emotion watching the MOAM acoustic download late last night, my feelings about Clay are decidedly NON-lecherous at the moment. I would say that right now my feelings could better be described as awestruck, humbled, respectful and I don't know....I just feel incredibly full of LOVE for this man...He truly is something special, ladies...something really, really special.
Oh, after I told my daughter last night about my hug, loving the look in her black eyes---big and unbelieving---she hugged me and said, "Now I have Clay germs on ME, too! I want to hug Clay, too! Will I smell like Clay now?"
Like mother, like daughter!
ETA: I...uh..messed up. My hug happened in January, not February 2004, as I originally wrote (I've fixed it now.) I hugged Clay during his FIRST Seacrest appearance; the Clelly (including Clay in those hot jeans, skinny tie and white TUCKED IN shirt!) happened in February. I swear I DID NOT make up my story! (Besides, if I were going to make up a story, it would be about more than a hug, let me tell YOU! 
)
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