Seeing Clay in Syracuse
By Diane Sprague
It was strange to be back in Syracuse . The year I lived there, I was trapped by my decisions. I could see no way out of where I was, who I was, and what life had become. I thought I had no choices, and the realization that choices could be made would only come years later. Many years later. Now. But all these thoughts slid to the back of my mind because I was here with my daughter to see Clay.
The weather was beautiful, sunny but not too hot. We arrived in the city early in the afternoon and went to the zoo. We picked up some Chinese take-out and ate it while we were sitting on top of the hill looking over the city. I love looking at cities from on top of a hill. There is something pleasant about the view. Life disappears for a few moments, and freedom and wisdom take over. Everything starts to make sense, but then a hungry seagull comes over eying my noodles and I forget. After lunch, we walk through the zoo and my daughter falls in love with some of the monkeys. I think children remember something about animals that adults often forget. They remember the connection.
The afternoon wore on, and though it was still early, I decided we should try to find the War Memorial. I am always nervous before big events. Too much could happen. Tickets might disappear, car accidents or breakdowns could occur, we could get lost, or maybe I would discover I read the information wrong and it was the incorrect night. I have been known to be that stupid. You never know. Getting there early just made sense, and just hanging out might be fun. I like to observe and I was curious.
When we arrived there were already many people milling about. Everyone seemed happy and excited. There was a crowd next to the tour bus, and even though Clay was long gone from the bus, they were holding onto the slight hope he might come back to it. As we walked though the crowd, I enjoyed listening to snippets of people's conversations. I heard a lot of talk about American Idol, the transformation Clay went through, his outfit choices, the shirts people were planning on buying, the beautiful pictures in the program. I enjoyed reading the words on the different outfits people wore displaying their love for Clay. It was fun to watch some of the woman in the crowd audition for Jerome for the possibility of singing with Clay. I would have given anything just one evening of being able to sing, but alas, American Idol has truly yet to hear the worse singer in the world, because unfortunately that would be me. Oh well.
When we got into the auditorium, I was disappointed by our seats because the stage was not where the ticket place told me it would be. I thought we would be viewing it from an angle but the stage was directly in front of us, so we would be watching Clay sidewards . My daughter seemed content and I decided it was not worth moping about. Fortunately the seats in front of us remained empty, so we did not have to worry about those nasty, view-blocking signs. We could also see the back of the stage and it was fun to look for Clay. We immediately recognized him before he came from behind the curtain because of his feet. As soon as we saw them, we realized they could belong to nobody else.
The crowd was big and loud. The auditorium was almost completely full. The opening act was fun. Cherie has a great voice and she seems to be able to connect well with the audience.
As soon as Clay entered the stage, he was in command. It was hard to believe that he has only been doing this for a year. He performs so brilliantly. His movements were so natural and his voice was on the level of sheer perfection. I had to take in a deep breath in order to take it all in. I realized I was witnessing the full realization of what I had caught a glimpse of over a year ago when I first watched him sing Open Arms . I remember thinking there was something there, something real, something worth paying attention to. It's fun to be proven right. It's great to know you can trust your own instincts, especially when a certain televised, arrogant judge tried to convince you otherwise.
There was so much love directed towards Clay that night. Even though the “I love you, Clay's” did at times distract from the quieter moments of the songs, I did not mind them too much. It expressed what I felt. It expressed the silent smile I had on my face the entire evening. I probably looked like a real doofus , but I didn't care. What I felt was real. My daughters hand pressed against mine at certain times during the concert, and I cherished the fact that we could share this.
What was very clear also was how much love Clay puts into his performance. He is so amazing to watch because he sings with his whole body. He shares his joy with the other performers and allows the spotlight to be taken off of himself so we can see their talent too. The backup singers are excellent and the band caught my full attention during Rosann a. My attention always came back to Clay though. Everything he has goes into his singing and the results are startling and breathtaking.
I loved his leap from the steps during Invisible . I laughed when he ran in terror from the very enthusiastic audience dancer. I vicariously experienced the joy and feeling of acceptance when she received a hug from him. It was hard for me to take in the full extent of the emotion he expressed when he sang You Were There , and when he sang Solitaire I stood frozen in my spot. The concert ended much too soon, and even though I know I can come home to my videos and mp3s of Clay, there is something magical about having him stand a hundred feet in front of you singing his heart out and letting you share in the love and magic of his music.
After the concert, my daughter wanted to stand by the bus in hopes of catching on last glimpse of Clay. I must admit that at that point I began to fell a bit uncomfortable. I always thought that following celebrities and identifying one's self by one's fan-hood seemed to be a dead-end. We would not find what we are looking for because we would just be following an illusion. Nobody is as big as we make them out to be, and we become no bigger by attaching ourselves to the illusion of bigness. Clay's celebrity status is interesting to observe and it is fun to speculate on just how big he is going to be, but I realized that that was not what I wanted to attach myself to. It's just a bubble that is going to burst. I wanted something more real to hold onto.
During the car ride home, I realized that what was real that day was sitting on top of the hill, watching the monkeys with my daughter, and the beauty of Clay's voice. I was trapped when I lived here years ago, but this past year while listening to Clay's music, I learned to discover a different part of me, a stronger part. I know now I can make choices. I don't know where the rest of my life is going to take me; it's like stepping into a dark void. All I have to hold onto is what is real and the beauty in Clay's voice that night was entirely real. It's all that I have and maybe it's enough.
SirLinksalot: Clay Aiken Links
SirLinksalot: American Idol Links