Crazy or Stupid?

“What do you think?” I read on the computer screen.  My friend Helen, who I’d known via the Rick Springfield mailing list for over a year, had messaged me about the latest news in Rickworld.

True to his word, Rick had defended my place on the team and protected my role as “fan liaison” with his new manager and website developer.  When the website guy had removed my name from the credits on the web page, Rick angrily emailed him and demanded I be added back onto the page.  When Rick’s manager started talking about fan initiatives for Rick’s upcoming release next spring, he’d told him to call me first about how the fans could help.  The manager had been friendly and polite, and excited to learn that I was “local” to New York City.   The Shock Street Team was still in force, and ready for the next round of promotion duties.  My saving grace from the chaos of moving and Michael’s issues and having three kids at varying ages and abilities was the sameness of turning on the computer and answering emails about Rick Springfield and What We Could All Do To Help.

“I think it’s a great idea,” I started typing back to Helen, listening to the sounds of the kids behind me in their new playroom; they were taking every toy they had out of the toybox and spreading them over the lovely new expanse of space they had all to themselves.  I ignored it and kept typing.  “With Rick having this performance as a taping for his TV special and release, fans will come from all over the country; even some from other countries.  It would make for a much larger than usual audience for a charity luncheon.  Similar to the ones I saw done in Tucson and the one I helped run in Las Vegas, we could do a silent auction and have raffles and all sorts of things.”  I paused.

To help promote Rick’s newest release of cover songs, Rick’s new manager had booked a TV special on a cable channel called HDNet.  The special would be the whole concert, which would include a mixture of some of the new songs from the record (“songs I wish I’d written myself”) and the old stand by crowd pleasers.  I had been lucky enough to get R to agree to allow me to attend, and I was eager to see all of the new machinery of Rick’s manager, new record company and yes, even the new web guy.  I had always found that you carried more weight when people could put your name and your words with your face, especially with Rick and his people.  Helen’s suggestion of holding a charity luncheon during the weekend was a slam dunk.  This would be a great chance to show off the power of the fan base and what we could accomplish.  It would also make the show a “destination concert”, attracting even more out of town fans to make everything look fun and exciting on camera.  Plus, we could raise a lot of money for a good cause.

I kept typing.  “Rick said in his last email to the fans for New Year’s that we should all give to the victims of the tsunami in Indonesia.  Why don’t we earmark the funds for the Red Cross to benefit the tsunami victims?  If you like it, I’ll run it by Rick and see if we have his support.  If we do, let’s get started planning!”

And just like that, I’d given myself a boatload of work to do in the next six weeks.  I shook my head and looked back at the kids in the playroom.  Was I crazy or just stupid?


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