Patchogue, NY – “John Cafferty, I Love You.” – The Performing Arts Center, Opening for John Cafferty – July 29, 2000

John Cafferty is one hell of a good guy.

His band immediately offered us their extra dressing room when we arrived at the Patchogue Performing Arts Center. They must know what it’s like to be an opening act who get little or none of the following:

• Space to change clothes
• Time to sound check
• Food to eat
• Respect or attention from the headlineing act

John Cafferty and his guys went out of their way to make us feel welcome. They beconed us into their catering area where we all sat around eating egg rolls, taking music business and drinking lemon tea with honey. I must’ve asked them 10 times if they were sure they didn’t need the extra dressing room as they walked by our open door. We managed to relax and make ourselves at home come sundown and Kenny finally shut the door.

“Close!” I yelled out, and the boys instinctively closed their eyes to let me change into an outfit. There weren’t too many clean options to choose from at this stage of the tour and I was basically nailing jelly as I sifted through my bag.
“Open! What do you think?” I asked.
“Too casual” “Too dressy” “Too much” “Too little” The guys responded in turn.
“Close!” I’d shout again “Still naked… still naked… still naked” I’d repeat like a truck backing out of a parking space, “OK, Open.”

The boys finally ok-ed a black skirt with a pink top and we went on stage.

The spotlights were so bright I couldn’t even see the people in the front row and with my in-ear monitors I couldn’t hear applause so, as our 45-minute set wore on, I got the surreal impression we were alone up there without an audience. Regardless, when we finished our last song I called out, “We’ll be selling CDs in the lobby.”

Surprisingly, when we got out front of house, there was a long line waiting for us and we sold a record amount of CDs (no pun intended). The line just kept going and going and going until my signature turned into an illegible Charlie Brown scribble and my vision had little blind spots all over it from disposable camera flashes.

Finally, after what seemed like an unreasonably long intermission, the chandeliers in the lobby flicked on and off to indicate John Caferty was about to take the stage. I tried to hurry sales along but the line kept getting longer. The lights flickered again a few minutes later but still no music, so I kept selling. I took a quick glance down the line to assess how much longer it would take to get through sales when my eye stumbled on a John Cafferty fan who ridiculously had the same haircut, same white wristbands, and sported the same tude as John and I thought how odd it must be for him to have fans that dress up like him.

But when the man got up to the counter I realized it wasn’t a fan at all, it was, in fact, John Cafferty himself! He’d waited in line to purchase my CDs when he was supposed to be on stage!!!! People parted like the Red Sea around him apologizing for having pushed him or cut him in line. Some even asked him to add his signature to my CD. I told him he could take as many CDs as he wanted but he modestly and supportively insisted on paying for them and asked me to sign them for his two sons. I was so taken with his generosity and humility.

When John left, the line diminished, the music began and a couple of guys who’d managed to buy every last vinyl copy of my father’s “Gorilla” and mother’s “Anticipation” still in existence were waiting for me to sign them. Don’t ask me why they wanted ME to sign my parents’ work, but they did. One guy must have had 100 records on him, the piles just kept coming out of his Mary Poppins-like carpet bag and he wanted me to sign his red bass guitar too and “the ticket stub, and here’s a magazine clipping!” It was a little overwhelming and I wondered what he thought my scribble was worth, but hey, he can have it, don’t cost me nothin but time and ink.

John Cafferty, I love you.