Kline Art Studio

First, let's just say that Rick doesn't exactly understand the meaning of the word "initimate."

I imagined "intimate" as Rick and I, a roaring fireplace, some beverages, cushy couch. And that's all I am saying.

Rick's idea of "intimate" was Rick, me, Jim, 998 other fans and the staff of the Arcada Theater. Not quite what I was counting on!

I first saw Rick Springfield when I was 16 or 17 years old. I loved him! I had my bedroom walls covered in his pictures. Even that horrible picture of him in the ugg boots before all the starlets and starlet wanna-bes were wearing them. Still, I loved Rick!

Jim and I saw him over seven years ago at Navy Pier. I was too freaked out to really enjoy the concert. I kept thinking about what I figured my life would look like when I was 34 when I was 17...and it was so different I was scared!

But this time I heard the music. I enjoyed watching Rick move around like no other 57 year old I know. And he looked damn good doing what he does. Taking into account that my 41-year old eyes aren't the sharpest at night in my contacts!

I'm just not into concerts anymore, though. I hate the tight quarters. Rude people. Crawling over people to get to the bathroom.

So unless Rick really does an intimate evening with me in the future, I probably won't see him again!

Until he comes to his senses, I'll be wearing my (new) Jessie's Girl t-shirt to bed every night!