I always think about NOT meeting James Hetfield around this time of the year.
Why?
Because I didn’t meet him at the Nutcracker in San Francisco a few years ago.
Why didn’t I meet him?
Because I am a pussy (cat).
Background
I
have played guitar since I was 12. Metallica was one of the biggest
reasons I even picked up a guitar in the first place. Before I had a
real guitar I made a full-sized, cardboard cutout of James’ black, ESP
Explorer. I would go through Metallica’s catalogue with that cardboard
guitar, then a real one, imagining I was on stage, as the front man of
my favorite band in the world.
25
years later, they are still my favorite band. Of course my musical
tastes have changed, but they will always be my number one. My first
love.
I’ve
seen them live almost every time they have been in the Bay Area since
1992. I was even lucky enough to be 3rd row center at a concert in the
late 90’s.
It’s been a very special relationship.
But an extremely one-sided relationship.
We have never met. Maybe they would love me too!
If only I had a chance……..
Me and James and The Nutcracker
The
night before The Nutcracker I was at a Metallica concert in San Jose.
Cheering, singing their songs, and feeling like a kid again.
Great show as always.
Fell in love just a little bit more, as always.
Then back to reality.
Christmas time, family, holidays, etc.
Just a normal December day.
That
was until I walked down the stairs with my family, ready to head home
after a wonderful, but very different performance than the night before.
I came down the stairs, and around the corner, looked up, and it was James (MF) Hetfield!
The
guy I had seen last night on stage commanding 20k people. The lead
singer of the band I had seen 10 times live. The singer I had plastered
on my walls in high school.
He was right there.
I had the opportunity to meet my musical hero. My singular, no one else is even close, musical hero.
This is it. A thing I have thought about countless times over the last 20 years.
And……… fail.
Why?
Because what in the hell am I going to say?
With all of my memories and feelings about this band over a majority of my life, what could I possibly say? Hi? Thank you?
I couldn’t do it. There is too much to say to say so little.
On
top of my lack of ability to wrap up 20 years in a few sentences and a
handshake, he was on break from being the front man of Metallica and was
spending time with his family. Keep in mind, this was day 1 of his
vacation. I am sue the last thing he wants is some 30 year old, acting
like a 12 year old chewing his ear off at The Nutcracker.
And I couldn’t get anything out. I like to use the family excuse, but let’s be real, my was stuck on stupid.
It
felt like trying to drain the ocean with a garden hose. There was too
much. Too much to sift through, think about, wrap my head around.
So I said nothing.
And I walked away, but with a strange sense of euphoria from having even a failed interaction with James.
Wow. Such a powerful moment.
And then it got worse.
They were leaving the same time we were.
We basically walked out together.
We were basically walking with them down the street.
Holy s***.
Holy s***.
What did I say?
You guessed it, absolutely nothing.
I kept waiting for them to go a different direction, get in a limo, or a helicopter, or whatever superstars do.
But they didn’t.
They were at the crosswalk with us.
Great.
They were walking through the park with us.
Fantastic.
Keep
in mind, I am s****ing my pants every second of this “interaction.” My
brain is completely locked up. I can’t say a damn thing. Like I had a
Metallica stroke or something.
Now they are walking towards the same parking garage.
Awesome.
Down the stairs with us.
To the same level as us!
I held the door for him and his family!!!
Holy f***!!
We walked on to the level, and then headed our separate ways.
I am such a little b****.
Utter Disappointment
My wife still makes fun of me for this. My moment of weakness.
She knows I will talk to anyone. Money doesn’t impress me. Celebrity doesn’t matter to me. They are just people.
But that day?
On that day in December a few years ago, I was 12 again, and my idol was bigger than life, within reach, but too big to grasp.
*sigh
My Request To James
Let me write your book.
I know it sounds weird, but I have gotten past my start struck brain lock.
It will be amazing.
It will not be a typical autobiography at all.
It will be about you, the person, not the superstar. Not all the cool s** you have done. You.
We
will call it The Struggle Within, and it will be about your life, your
inner struggles, how you handled them poorly, and how you have grown
since you started handling them properly. I think it would be epic. I
also think it would help so many people out there that look up to you,
struggle with you, and that can learn form you.
I
was listening to your interview with Joe Rogan yesterday, and there are
a lot of parallels between us. We had breaking points. We fixed them.
We are better today. And most importantly, we know what it is like to go
through that struggle with yourself and come out on the other end. It’s
still a struggle, but we deal with it.
But
what about the person that doesn’t know themselves today? The man or
woman that is in the middle of the struggle, that your words could help
guide through? That’s where I think this book would be on a completely
different level.
Think
of your reach all over the world? How many languages would this book be
published in? 50? 60? It would be an incredible gift to give to your
fans that are struggling within.
James, if you are reading this, Brett has my number. Call me anytime.
I promise I will talk this time.
Happy Holidays
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