Grand Rapids Intermezzo (I Saw Pearl Doggy)

"He tells me a story about some girl he knows in Kentucky. He just made that story up, there ain't no girl like that." -- J. Mellencamp 1996

January in Michigan can bring any kind of weather, usually lousy. Most Januaries the snow if flying and the roads are icy, but today it's raining like it's Florida in July. But, it's Michigan in January, unusually warm, and my friends and I are standing in line near the parking lot of the Orbit Room. We're ready for a great time. A wild night. This would be Pearl Doggy's first show in Grand Rapids -- ever!

"Man, this is gonna rock. I always thought seeing Mellencamp in a club would be a treat. I thought it would never happen," I offered to my buds.

"Yeah, you don't get to see a major act in a thousand seat club very often," Don answered. "Rick, this is gonna be incredible." Don and I are in line with John, Paul, (hey, I'm not making a Beatles joke here, either) and Marc.

We are about the fiftieth people in line and we arrived four hours before the doors are set to open.

"Must be a bunch of Pearl Doggy fans," one of us said.

"Yeah, yeah, Pearl Doggy rocks," Don said in a Beavis-like voice.

"I ... think ... Pearl Doggy ... is cool" I replied, Butt-headesque.

There are about 400 people in line by five o'clock.

"Our class president is such a weasel for doing all the reunion stuff himself," Don commented.

"I know. I called him one night from Sneakin's and told him he needs to get organized. He said he already is organized. I donno, but I kind of think I don't wanna go," I agreed.

"Sounds like a deal to me."

Some guy was in the the lot asking for tickets. His sign said, "$100." I thought about selling my extra ticket.

A green mini-van pulled past the crowd.

"That's him!" I yelled.

Don, joking, said, "Yep, I think Mellencamp was driving."

"Hold our spot. I'll be back." I ran down to the back doors. About 10 people followed.

I had to get his autograph. Welcome to Grand Rapids, John. You know where to rock. Hey, John. Welcome to West Michigan. The voices. The people.

Me: "John, can I get your autograph, please!"

John: "What the **** is this?!!"

Me: "Ah, something, ah, I got at Pine Knob. It's from your fan club."

I got John's autograph.

Good luck, John. Welcome to West Michigan. Wow!

I sauntered back to the line with an autographed fan club information sheet.

"Dude," I said. "Check it out!"

"Wow, man, you got Mellencamp's autograph. Wow!"

Man, can I see. Let me touch it. Please. Can I see. Let me see. Holy ****! Wow! The voices. The people.

"Ah, you can't really read it. He was in a hurry." It was true. The signature was illegible, almost, but cool nonetheless.