After A Fashion
Love is in the air, and it is distinctly Paisley-shaped
Dear Brad Paisley, my friend Graydon Parrish and I saw you perform at KLRU's Block Party last Friday night. I don't know about you, but we had a wonderful time – hundreds of guests at the Austin Music Hall to support KLRU in its fabulousity, great cocktails, good food. It must have been different backstage where you were, but we weren't allowed there, so we'll never know. And please apologize for me to the security guys backstage; I didn't mean to behave so badly, and I feel really bad that I spit on them and called them names when they wouldn't let me back to visit you. It's just that ... I love you, Brad. I know you don't know me, but surely you remember seeing me in the crowd at table five. (I had on sunglasses and a rhinestoned cowboy shirt and probably looked like a jack-in-the-box, because I kept hopping up every time you'd sing about trucks and drinking.) Brad, honestly, I don't know your marital status, but I can tell by your songs that you are really missing that certain someone in your life – that certain someone who is always gentle and kind; that certain someone who is always there with his/her arms wide open, welcoming you home again; that certain someone who worships you unconditionally; that certain someone who would do anything you made them do. Brad, that certain someone is right here. Waiting. For you. Brad, be my Caesar, and I'll be your Cleopatra. Be my Steve Lawrence, and I'll be your Eydie Gorme. Be my Keith Urban; I'll be your Nicole Kidman. My friend Robert Godwin took this photo of you that night, but I Photoshopped myself in so you could see what we'd look like together. Imagine. You could be Paul McCartney, and I could be Linda Eastman. I can tell you some more about me if you'd like. I live in Austin and work for a newspaper. I lead an anonymous, quiet life and have one or two close friends who I depend on. I do not have a partner. I guess I'm just too shy for most people's taste. I like animals, especially kittens. You wouldn't believe how many kitties I have! Let's see ... oh, yeah, I see from Wikipedia that your birthday and mine are three days apart: We're both Scorpios! Of course, you were born in 1972, and I was born in 1957, but if you go by that rule that says the youngest person you should date is half your own age plus seven years, then even though I'm 15 years older than you, half my age is 25½, which means that after adding seven years, I can date someone as young as 32½! So it's really perfect, Brad. Here's more info about me:
Height: 6 feet 3 inches in heels
Weight: Oh Brad, let's not focus on that
Age: 51 (Eeek! That sounds so old next to you, Brad, but believe me, in my heart I'm young, young, young.)
Brad, I don't know how long I have here on this planet, but I know that I'd be willing to drive off into the sunset in an El Camino with you at the drop of a hat and put myself at your command to do with me as you please. We could go back to West Virginia, where you came from, and I could learn recipes for possum and squirrels and skunks. Whatever you want, Brad. Please know that I am ...
Yours forever, Stephen Moser
p.s. I don't know why you're not answering my calls or text messages, but you have to know how I feel. And I know that when you understand how I feel about you, then you will feel that way about me. It's meant to be, Brad.
p.p.s. I'm embarrassed about that little melee outside your tour bus. Those blueberry cocktail things they were serving were wicked. But I know you'll understand what it's like when you finally see the person you're meant to be with for the rest of your life. Glad you weren't hurt. ;)