All's ready except for the last-minute packing. Some changes in plans, but nothing drastic. Between the excitement and the nerves I can't sweat the small stuff. I'm afraid to eat anything, but by tonight I'll be so hungry it'll win over the nerves. The hair is dyed and braided, the girly-prep is done; the only poo in the pastry is that I broke a nail just when they were all nice and even. Quel dommage, eh? If only all our troubles were that small.
It's pretty damned silly that I'm so keyed up about meeting him. But I'm thinking it's not just him being him. It's all these years that his music has followed me through life. Being a Progrock fan isn't something you can share, since about 1979. Music goes through fashion changes in culture and when what you really love falls into the black hole many of your fellow fans abandon ship. Just recently I've begun talking about it to friends, none of whom are Prog fans, natch. Here in the 21st century, in this area, there are few who still love Prog, if ever. This area is all about singer-songwriters and guitars, crafters of meaningful life experiences put into words and music. That's great, and what most of music is about. But it's not my be all and end all. The other part is that Prog was/is mostly a guy thing, and in my experience, guys who aren't musicians themselves. So the guys who were into it 4 decades ago probably aren't caring much about it now. People wane on music as they age, if they don't see its relevance to their lives. I'm sure there are still Progheads around, but it's not like there are festivals to go and meet them. And so it's a pretty singular pursuit, and after a decade of punk, rap and hip-hop I just stopped mentioning it. I kept all the music dear to myself. Maybe that's why it's such a big deal to meet Greg now. Or it's the supercrush I've had on him for so long. I don't know.
In any event, tomorrow is G-Day. I'll post about it Sunday night when we're back home. This will be a story, whatever happens. ;)