This is the story of how two schlubs from central Maine had a religious experience on Halloween night. It is a story of a brave journey which, against all odds, turned out to be the single greatest moment in their lives. I am of course talking about the trip me and Graham took to see "Weird Al" Yankovic live in Portland at the State Theater. It's kind of a long story, so put your wrists on the convenient rubber pad thing and relax as our tale unfolds.

It started on Saturday afternoon when Graham came to Husson to get me. We grabbed my stuff, threw it into the car, and started on our merry way. Graham had scored some candy from his Mom, which we happily ate. I popped a tape into the car thinking that it would play some songs from a "Television's Greatest Hits" CD that I had dumped to cassette. I found out soon enough that I had messed up while recording it, and it came out real slow. Needless to say, the "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?" song is absolutely hilarious when played at 1/4 speed. We rolled down the windows and blasted it while driving down the highway.

Upon arrival in Portland, we hunted for a place to park while we cruised the city. Graham pulled into a parking garage and told a quick fairy tale about how we were there to see the game and, therefore, deserved the $3 event parking special. After stashing the car we walked around and checked out the sheer bigness of the city. We went to Bull Moose, browsed comic books, found the State theater, ate dinner at a nice little pasta place (which Graham was nice enough to pop for), and rejoined the car just before everyone started to leave. We had planned to stay at Graham's camp in the Portland vicinity--but we then realized that Graham didn't know how to get there. We spent a good hour searching for a Motel 6 or a Super 8 or a nice garbage dumpster. Needless to say, we could not locate inexpensive accommodations. The best deal we could find was the Suisse Chalet. It was swanky, but we certainly weren't happy about giving up $50 for a room. Sure--it had a nice shower, decent cable, and a certain je ne sais pas that made it a generally nice place to be staying. However, it left us virtually penniless. Naturally, I gave Graham my last $10 and volunteered to sleep on the floor so that Graham could enjoy a luxurious night's sleep on the room's lonely solitary bed. (Those of you getting any ideas at this point should stop reading this and go hit yourselves in the head with folding chairs for allowing such thoughts to cross your minds.) (Well not really, but it still wasn't very nice of you.)

After enjoying a good night's sleep due to Daylight Savings Time, we ambled to the lobby for our complimentary continental breakfast. Quick thinkers we are, we snatched 4 extra cereals for the trip. We figured that between that, the halloween candy, and whatever funds we had left, we could eak out another day's worth of survival. We parked the car by city hall and took another walk around. Upon arrival at the State theater, we discovered that some people had been camping out for better seats. Naturally we decided to join them. We made the exhausting trip to the car to get our stuff, and came back to the theater only to discover that I had left my CD (which I had hoped would be autographed later in the evening) back in the car. I hiked back to the car, fetched the CD and hiked back to the State to discover that everyone was missing.

There was only one woman left there, and she had told me that the rest of the crew had spotted Al around back and decided to try and catch another glimpse of him. Not wanting to ditch my Magnetic Fish companion, Graham, I went around back myself and stood around with them. It was then that the man himself, the coolest guy in the universe, the greatest composer of the 20th century, came out and said hi.

"How long have you guys been here?" said the Great One.

"Since 11:00," said a 13 year old girl we had met an hour previously. It was then that Al shot us a puzzled look, and asked in a soft voice.....

"Why?"

After a quick exchange of words between the tweener and the Holy King of Parody, he got back on the bus. The crew then returned to the front of the theater and died instantly.

The seven hour wait continued. We were hungry, bored, and dying (sp?) of anticipation. It was during this wait that we met John, an Al-head who had been following him since 1983 and had been giddily waiting to see what he had waited over 15 years to see. John was an awfully nice guy who was very articulate, funny, and just plain a heckuva guy to be around. He's important later.

I took a run to Subway while Graham held my place (once again, Graham paid for our food. There is no end to his generosity). Whilst there I picked up two bags of Cracker Jacks. Once again, I was dissapointed at how cheap Cracker Jack surpises have gotten. However, Graham did get a "Blow Car": a little cardboard cut out of a car that you blow on with your mouth to make it move. The Blow Car is also important later in the story.

Roundabout 5:45 PM, the line was around the block. We made a little game of chanting and singing and getting everyone all excited and generally annoying the heck out of the ticket lady. John was the driving force behind that. Once the doors opened and the tickets were torn, we rushed for some festival seating right in front of the stage. It was there that I met a girl named Faith who, needless to say, was very very pretty. She was a big Al fan who had scored a scarf from him during a performance she had attended before. Naturally, she recieved my contact information before the end of the night.

The show started with a guy from WBLM giving away some free stuff (including candy and CDs), telling everyone that there was neither videotaping, cameras, audio recording, nor laser pointers allowed, then getting candy thrown at him as he introduced the opening act. It was a woman named Rachael from Asbury Park, New Jersey. She did a good job, but I'm not sure she got quite the respect she deserved from the crowd. Still, there was no booing, so it wasn't all bad. She was like Jewel--only cool.

Then....then....oh, my....and then.....it started. It was the greatest show I have ever seen. Graham and I were right in front of the stage, and about 2-3 feet away from the 8 foot speakers. There were cool costumes, video clips from stuff Al has done in the past, fake smoke, original songs never before released, and ABOUT A THOUSAND SCREAMING AL FANS!!!!! For me, the best performance was "Dare to Be Stupid" live...that is...until the encore.....when they played Chris and Graham's hit single "Yoda". Yoda is perhaps the best song Al has ever written, and our wimpy little acoustic guitar version paled in comparison to the real thing. After the show, Graham and I were pretty deaf...and so was UPWARD BOUND SUPERSTAR KENDON WARREN who decided to make a surprise appearance in our midst. We shouted some greetings at each-other, barely able to overcome the pain in our throats and the deafness of our ears, and went our separate ways. BUT WAIT...THERE'S MORE!!!!!!

After the show, John, whom I said was important, led us to where we needed to be to get autographs. As we stood behind the neat metal barricade, we met Steve Jay, Jim West, and Ruben Valtierra. Ruben and Jim signed my CD and Graham's ticket stub. In addition, Ruben had given me a small box of Lucky Charms before the show. He was going down the line giving away candy and such, and I was lucky enough to score some cereal. But then.....but then.....we met the big man.

A security guy took us back into the theater in groups of five to meet Al himself. Graham and I were eager with anticipation...and when I finally stood in his presence, I was speechless for the first time in 18 years. I managed to squeeze out some conversational greetings, but other than that I was rendered dumb. And as I watched him press ink to my CD that I had bought with hard-earned Upward Bound money, I felt a renewed sense of satisfaction and self esteem that has been missing for quite a long time. I had met my idol...the man who has contributed so much to my life's philosophy...the man who helped me through the tough times with his music...the man who inspired much of my creative effort...and I shook his hand.

I stood outside the theater waiting for Graham to get done inside...and when he left, he opened his hand to reveal.....

.....a Blow Car autographed by "Weird Al" Yankovic.

BTW--Next time you go to a rock concert, bring earplugs. You'll thank yourself later.