Fear of the Unknown

I have never been afraid to try new things or to go to new places.  However, I am pretty terrified when I think about the future, for some reason I primarily only project negative thoughts.  This is one of the reasons why living in the now is so essential to happiness.  Of course, it's impossible, even for Oprah or Eckhart Tolle, to be 100% in the now.  The human condition prevents this from being a reality.  We can practice and strive and aim and try though - constantly moving forward and doing our best to grow and change.
     It's also tricky to know the difference between making goals and projecting.  One cannot simply sit around and wish for the best and take no action.  Also, obsessing about every single detail of events that have yet to happen is detrimental.  I have learned that the trick is to set the goals, take all necessary and available steps and then let the outcome go - the outcome is not in our hands.  Sounds easy, right?  Hahaha, it sure ain't.
     Recently I had an amazing audition for a big national commercial for a well known product.  It went very well and I received a callback.  The night before my callback I decided that I would bring my A game and really show up and be available.  I meditated on prosperity that night (certainly, not an everyday practice for me), ate a healthy dinner, went to bed early and got a great night's sleep.  The next day I woke up and before I even got out of bed I decided I would have an amazing day and do my best to keep positive.  I had a healthy smoothie, exercised, and then went to the callback.  I even did a 5 minute meditation in the car before I went in just to center myself and calm my brain.
     When I walked into the room the clients and casting people were all very warm and receptive (usually, they act like you are not even present.)  I was charming, funny and had the room laughing.  I did my absolute best and I left feeling great.  As I was walking to the car I decided that no matter what the outcome was that I would be proud of myself for doing all I could do knowing that the rest was out of my hands.  It's hard to not think about the money in these situations.  National commercials can be big bucks and I'm the type of guy that spends money in my head that I have not even earned yet.
      I did not book the job - perhaps they went with a blonde guy, I will never know the real reason.  I did my best to not get into a downward spiral of failure and self - judgement.  I didn't achieve that 100% but I did maintain a pretty decent level of keeping positive for doing my best.  I also realized that I made some great connections at that callback and that in the future I would probably work with those people or, at least, audition for them again.  You never know when the results of your actions will take place.  Sometimes the things you do set a whole string of events in motion and lead to a place you were not expecting.  Things rarely happen in the time that we are expecting but everything always does happen as it was meant to.  Another hard lesson to learn.  Again, do your absolute best and let go of the outcome.
     I have found that a lot of things that were not meant to be in my life have been stripped away this past year.  It's as the universe is doing the work that I did not know how to do myself.  The main problem that I am having now is that I hear the message loud and clear yet I do not know what is next or which direction I'm to go in.  I can blindly jump and hope it's not the precipice of a cliff that I'm teetering over.  Perhaps I am just standing on a large rock and the landing will be manageable and relatively painless?   Why is it that the most growth comes from experience that are hard and painful?  How come all the happy moments in life don't teach us the deepest lessons?  I suppose the pain and difficulty we experience make the happy times that much sweeter.  If there was no hardship we would never know when we were actually happy - there'd be no gauge to the experience.  For now, in this very moment, as I type this everything is actually OK.

   
   

Creativity

Last page of a story I wrote in 3rd grade

When I was a little kid all I liked to do was draw and paint.  I used to make books of my drawings -  for instance, I once drew the alphabet in animals with names that corresponded to very letter.  Art supplies were always my favorite gifts.  I was obsessed with a Crayola Caddy that my mom bought me for Christmas one year.  It was like a lazy susan that was filled with paint, markers, pencils and crayons in a rainbow of Crayola colors.  I even won a few prizes at art shows and contests around town and had a watercolor painting a did of a deer in snow with a fuchsia sky on display at the local library branch.
     I'm not exactly sure when I let the creativity slip away for the 1st time.  My parents got divorced when I was 7 and that was physically, mentally and emotionally crippling for me at that age.  Some other traumatizing life events took place after that coupled with the fact that I was cruelly teased and bullied in school - all of this lead me to retreat within myself with a profound desire to escape and disappear.  I exiled myself to TV Land and anything else that would distract me from the emotional pain I felt in reality.  I would shop lift and spend my whole afternoon at the arcade and slowly and surly the creative stuff fell by the wayside.  Of course later on when I discovered drugs and alcohol it was a match made in heaven - until it turned to hell.
     When I got to high school I finally had like minded friends.  We were definitely a motley crew but the thing that bound us all together was a level of intelligence that was generally missing from the majority of our high school peers.  We sought out cool bands and artists to explore and we challenged and accepted each other no matter what freaky style we had going on.  It was a pretty creative group to say the least.  In my senior year of high school I felt like I was ready to explore my creative outlets again, being surrounded by all of my artsy friends inspired me.  I took a ceramics class with this amazing art teacher that had been my mortal enemy in 9th grade.  This time around we got along like gang busters and I let her teach me and expand my horizons and it felt great to make art again.
     Around this time I had also started doing photography.  I took some classes and got an amazing camera for my Bday and even joined the yearbook committee which was a life saver my senior year.  It meant a stack of hall passes and "get outta class free" cards that my favorite English/Photography teacher & yearbook advisor had given me at the start of the year.  I spent a majority of my year stoned in the darkroom and then had the privilege of flooding my senior yearbook with photos of all the cool kids and paying little mind to the jocks.  It was a very Breakfast Club moment.
     Since then my life has been this constant tug-of-war between me and my creative side.  For some reason when life gets tough I'm generally inclined to let the artistic side go instead of exploring it and using it to reach new heights and depths of art.  These days I've gotten a lot better at expressing myself and even let some of my uglier truths rise to the surface so I can tell on myself and free myself from them.  The writing has helped a lot.
     I 1st got the idea to write a book of my stories about 8 years ago on a trip to Costa Rica.  I was going to meet a large group of friends, mostly from NYC, and when I booked my travel I had the dates wrong.  I ended up arriving 4 days before everyone else and it was the best thing that could've happened.  In those 4 days all of the stresses of city life melted away, I read 2 books and had this creative avalanche pour out of me when I put pen to paper to start jotting down one of my famous stories involving a really expensive pair of custom made pants and some cheap ass cocaine (you'll have to read the book!)  It was one of those moments when the words literally flowed out of me as if it wasn't even me writing.  The pen was furiously scribbling words on paper and I was sitting in the backseat like a passenger or observer.  When you have those moments while you are creating something it is truly magically - it's when everything aligns and you are really in the moment.
     Just this year I have re-committed myself to finishing this book that was conceived on the sands of the beach, next to the jungle of Costa Rica many moons ago.  I have been getting up every day a 1/2 hour earlier than normal so that I can write before my day gets going.  Some days it's a challenge and other days the words flow out from that magical sweet spot of creativity.  The book will be done in a few moths time and I cannot wait to share my ridiculous happenings with you and the world!!!!











   

Judgement

"The Last Judgement" by Hieronymus Bosch, 1482(ish)

I had a pretty big lesson in judgment yesterday.  It all started with a phone call from my Dad.  I don't talk to my Dad much, in fact, the last time we spoke on the phone was Christmas of 2013.  It's a complicated relationship - he left when I was 7 and for a while he would take me on the weekends until his alcoholism escalated and he could no longer show up.  Doesn't take Freud or Reich or Dr. Drew to figure out that all of my abandonment issues and fear of love stem from that.  My Dad put alcohol in his #1 slot and because of that everything else fell to the wayside.
     As most of you know I recently celebrated 13 years sober and now I can clearly see that my Dad's choices in life had nothing to do with me.  That was an impossibility to understand at 7, 8, 9, 10+ years old but now I have empathy for him and I know that he suffers more than anyone.  I have no idea if he's ever tried to stop drinking or even considered it but I do know that as an alcoholic myself it is a source of great shame in one's life.  It was in mine.
     My Dad is a very smart, funny, kind and compassionate man and he had the potential to do great things.  Unfortunately, that never happened.  I do not know what his darkness is and what demons he battles daily.  Alcoholism is a cunning mistress and you either have it or you don't - it doesn't matter what your background is.  Also, it takes A LOT of work to keep it at bay and not engage actively in it and most people afflicted by it do not overcome their fears or do not want to.  Anyone who has any experiences with people that are alcoholics know, too, that you cannot force, cajole, coax, or implore someone to change unless they really want to.
     My Dad called to say that Dar, his 4th wife, had passed away.  After finding a cyst on her back she was diagnosed with a rapidly expanding cancer that had riddled a large portion of her body.  It was too far gone for any treatment and there was nothing that could be done medically.  The diagnosis was around Thanksgiving and she passed away 2 days ago.  They had been together for 28 years.  He said that he was a basket case but he sounded much better than I would have given the circumstances.  
     We talked for a while about what had been going on leading up to this horrible event.  My Dad was telling me about his neighborhood and the friends they have and while he was telling me a story he nonchalantly told me a piece of information that floored me.  He said in a rather matter-of -fact manner that he had a side "business" that all the local people helped him with.  He said he collected cans to cash in for extra money so he didn't have to spend all his social security.  It broke my heart to hear him say this.  The way he said it though was so casual and without shame that it must seem completely normal to him with the lifestyle he leads.
     I was faced immediately with my own harsh and nasty judgments.  I call the people that collect cans "can farmers" and I get so angry when they rifle through my trash cans on garbage night.  Why?  Why do I judge so harshly?  Ironically, my biggest, most irrational fear is that will be homeless in the streets living in a cardboard box.  A lot of the people that collect cans aren't even homeless and, like my Dad, do it to get by and to survive.  It's actually a noble cause and another 1/2 full view is that it aides in cleaning up the trash and recycling.
     Still, here I was the person that is constantly thinking that I have to do more, make more, better myself and improve my station hearing that my Dad is a can farmer.  It really put me and my ego in check.  At least my Dad has caring people around him that bring him their bottles and cans because they know it helps him out.  At least it's a task he can accomplish or a reason to get out of the house.  I'm not sure how my Dad maintains a rather sunny disposition while constanlty faced with the grim reality of active alcoholism but somehow he does.  All I know is that next time I see someone on the street with their shopping cart full of cans and bottles that I will give them a warm smile instead of rolling my eyes and putting myself above any other human.

Ten - Thirteen

NYE 2014 - 2015

Ten years ago yesterday I moved to LA from NYC.  That also means that in 2 days, if all goes well, I will be sober for 13 years.  Those are pretty decent sized numbers if you ask me.  For about 8 years I was saying that I lived in LA for 5 years until I realized that I had been spouting that fact for at least 4 years running.  I'm not great at math but I came to the conclusion that I had been here longer than it seemed.  Sometimes I feel as if I just got here and it definitely does not feel like a decade has passed.

     I had been mulling over the prospect of "go west young man" for a few years but I just couldn't decide.  I asked other people what they thought and no one else had any satisfying answers either.  I waited until I had been sober for several years before I decided to uproot my life and go to the furthest coast away from the East Village.  It's suggested that you don't make any radical decisions in the 1st year of recovery because it's simple too overwhelming, stress inducing and, often, can trigger relapse.  Because of that I stayed working as a bar tender 5 nights a week while I was a newcomer to recovery.  The weird thing is that I became the best bar tender ever because all of the sudden I was focused on my job and concentrating on making money for the club and myself and not distracted by partying behind the bar.  Funny how things work.

     Once I made the firm decision in my mind that I was "Hollywood or bust" it seems that all of these doors magically unlocked.  The whole time I was hemming and hawing all of my plans and ideas seemed hazy but the moment I decided for sure doors sprang open.  A friend contacted me out of the blue because he had been traveling for over a year and was coming back to NYC in Jan. with just a backpack and no other belongings.  He needed a place to stay and I just happened to be leaving my apartment fully furnished.  Perfect.  

     Then, I had decided I should take an acting class in LA but the task of finding a good one seemed insurmountable.  One day I was out and about on a snowy, NYC afternoon and I stopped at one of my favorite places for lunch.  I heard a woman talking and her voice was instantly recognizable.  It was my Grandma's friend Jean-Ann who has a very distinctive, bold, boisterous, NY voice.  I approached her table and was going to ask if she remembered me (hadn't seen her in a decade) and she immediately looked up and proclaimed "Gregory!"  She said my grandma had mentioned my plans to relocate and then for no apparent reason I said I was going to look for an acting class.  Well, lo and behold her sister Robin was a working actress in LA who, it just so happened, was starting an acting class in the new year (2005).  She said I would love Robin because they had similar personalities and I always loved Jean-Ann!!!  Again, crazy how stuff works out. 

     To be quite frank I moved to LA because I wanted to be on TV.  I mean, I had already appeared in a national Always Panty Liners (no joke) commercial and played a - wait for it...junkie on "Law & Order: Criminal Intent."  But, I wanted to do a lot more of that.  I easily signed with an agent out here because, like I said, things were all falling into place and I started booking more national commercials.  Most of you already know the story but a few years later seemingly out of the blue I got a call to come meet Kat Von D ASAP to discuss the possibility of being the new shop manager on LA Ink.  Of course, that's exactly what I did and there it was - I was on TV regularly and it was tons of fun for a while.

     Now, it's a new year and I realize that I haven't set any new goals for myself lately.  Looking back it seems like most of the goals that I did set came true in one way or another.  The thing about making goals, writing them down, saying then out load, shouting them to the universe is that most often they do materialize!!  They usually don't happen in the manner or time frame in which you expect though which is why its important to keep expectations in check.  You absolutely can create the magic that you desire in your life and be the alchemist of your own destiny.

“And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” 

― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

New Year!

Street walking cheetah.

Twenty fourteen has definetely been a roller coaster ride to say the least.  My drama-queen, only-child, alcoholic, Scorpio self wants to believe it was the worst year of my life.  That's not exactly true. So I went through a break-up,  boohoo.   I'm not the 1st and certainly not the last person on earth to have such an experience.  I got over it.
     I've always had this knowledge in my mind that love is not available to me.  I don't mean this in a woe-as-me kind of way. What I mean is that as a child, feeling and knowing that I was different from most people I got many clear cut messages from society that who and what I am was wrong.   Things that are unsaid are actually worse and more hurtful than things that are said out loud.  So, as a young gay boy in suburbia there were absolutely no positive role models for me.  There were a few obviously gay clowns that epitomized the hyper-flamboyant type of gay in the media but no one that I wholeheartedly related to.
     Even the most outrageously girly rocks bands like Duran Duran & Motley Crüe turned out to be all hetero. Thier style was just surface it wasn't dictated by sexuality. Then came Boy George and the regular world had never seen anything like that before.  The big question everyone always had was "is that a boy or girl?" Not only did I never question that I always wondered why anyone cared.  I thought he was beautiful but it was too embarrassing for the fruity, gay boy to admit he liked him.
     For these reasonss I never, ever imagined myself in love or with anyone romantically let alone getting married.  I understood that society didn't believe in gay love so I internalized this knowledge and locked it away deep inside myself.  I honestly believed this was true for a long, long time.  I turned 44 in October and my previous relationship was the longest (4.5 years) of my life - by 4 years!!!  It took a lot of deep, discovery and work to dispel my own false beliefs.
     I don't regret any of it.  In fact, I learned so much about myself in that time and we did a lot of amazing things together.  Mainly, I learned that I'm capable of a long-term, romantic relationship. This one wasn't meant to be and I'm not so sure any relationship is meant to be forever.  Forever doesn't exist, nothing lasts forever our time here is fleeting.  Perhaps this last one was practice for something super fabulous that's coming next?  Or, maybe, that was my big long-term relationship for this lifetime?  It doesn't really matter either way, if I stay in the present and don't project some prearranged future onto myself then all is fine and dandy.
      I had some of the best experiences of my life in 2014 as well - thus, contradicting my false drama-queen exaggerations.  I saw friggin Kate Bush, in London! A lifelong dream come true - I have the pictures to prove it.  I saw the David Bowie Is exhibit in Chicago during a trip generously planned by an amazing friend of mine.  I saw the original line-up of Fleetwood Mac.  I attended 2 glorious weddings that were both the sweetest testimonies of love.  I also had 2 fabulous trips to Palm Springs this year also generously planned by another amazing friend who spoiled me rotten.
     The good really does outweigh the bad and if you really look closely the bad isn't even bad at all.  After enough time passes you realize that even the most painful experiences are lessons taught and they are necessary for the next leg of your journey.  Bring it on 2015 - I'm gonna have a fabulous time in you!

Hollywood

Liz Taylor, 1967 w/her Ocasr for 'Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf.'"

I had barely lived in Hollywood for a month when I found out I would be attending Elton John's famous Oscar party.  My amazing friend Sammy Jo, who we lovingly refer to as Pickles (all my NYC friends have multiple nicknames,) was DJing and our other friend's band The Scissor Sisters were performing.  I was super excited to say the least.
     At this point, in the beginning of 2005, I only had 1 job on 1 night of the week bar tending at my friend Mario's party called Hot Dog.  It was at a now long gone club called The Parlour Club that had a very New York-y feel to it. The party was a hoot but bar tending in LA was not quite the same as NYC.  If I made $500 a shift in NY that would've been a slow night, out here I was lucky to take home $150.
     On Oscar Sunday I had taken all the money I had and went to the grocery store, my mind reeling with my fabulous, ensuing evening plans.  All I could think about was my outfit for the soiree my wardrobe spinning around in my head like those racks at the dry cleaners as I was imagining possible clothing combos.  I put my groceries in the trunk, returned the cart to the rack and started to drive off.  I got to the edge of the parking lot when I realized I had left my wallet in the shopping cart.  I doubled back, parked and ran out of my car but the 3 minutes I had been gone was long enough for some nice citizen to abscond with my wallet and ALL the money I had to my name.  The panic set in - mainly because I figured I needed my ID to get into the party.
     I spent a few hours in the woe-is-me department and then the absurdity of the situation set in and I had to laugh.  That's so me - losing all my possessions in the morning, partying with movie stars in the evening.  I got all gussied up and made my way to The Pacific Design Center where there were huge, white circus tents set up to hold the bash.  Turns out all my panic was for nought (as it always is) because I didn't need any ID at all to get it, in fact, it was surprising easy to sashay right inside.  I guess I looked the part with my bow-tie on.
     I found my friends but they were all running around getting set up for the show and DJing so I was basically flying solo.  I walked around a bit in awe of the magnitude of the glamour.  This place was chock full of sequin ball gowns and movie stars - everyone was dressed to the nines.  Then the best thing happened.  I looked over at the bar and saw Chi Chi (pronounced She She) LaRue, famous drag queen and also gay porn film director.  We knew each other so I went up and said hello.  She immediately grabbed me by the hand and said "c'mon, let's go meet some celebs!"
     Well, if a 6'5 drag queen isn't the best ice-breaker I don't know what is.  We marched right up to Brooke Shields, Chi Chi grabbed her hand and bellowed "look at that rock!!" in reference to her huge ring.  Brooke cracked up and we chatted and then made our way through the whole crowd in the same manner.  85% of the people we approached were game the other 15% ran in terror - it was perfect.
     By now it was time for the band to go on so we moseyed over to the stage to watch the show.  We were dancing and having fun and the crowd was super into the music.  About 4 songs in I felt a commotion behind me.  I turned around and saw some huge, I mean linebacker huge, security guards barreling through the crowd and shoving people to the side like sparkly corn chips flying through the air.  The crowd parted like the Red Sea and then Elizabeth Taylor emerged being rolled through the room in a wheel chair.  I was stunned and in awe - this was the most legendary site of all time!  She was draped and bedecked with so much bling she made every rapper on earth look like a fool.  The rainbow prisms of light shooting off all of her diamonds were blinding.  I'm sure she was only in the wheel chair because she couldn't walk with that many karats of stones dangling off her frail frame.  It was like seeing a unicorn except there was a huge crowd around me to witness the event as well.
     At this point the entire audience now had their backs to the band and even though it felt like an eternity the whole scene probably only lasted a minute or 2.  They wheeled Miss Taylor to the very front banquette where, naturally, Elton and his then boyfriend, now husband were seated and she got out of the chair and sat at the table to watch the show.  It was an awesome thing to behold.  That is the 1st and last time I ever saw her off screen.
     All in all the night was beyond fabulous.  At the very end of the party I was hanging out with Sammy Jo and the band and we were sharing stories about all the crazy/amazing people we had met.  We were also looking through our gift bags which we all assumed would be major.  Well, the 1st thing I removed from the bag was a box of Barilla spaghetti.  Mind you, this was long before anyone in Hollywood had ever heard of gluten but, still, a very, very odd choice for a gift bag.  Since the annual party is an AIDS benefit I assume that Barilla was a sponsor which explained why there was so much broken and uncooked pasta strewn amongst the confetti and glitter on the floor.  I opted to keep my box in tact - after all, I had no money left for future groceries.

Dreams

Stevie Nicks singing "Gold Dust Woman," Forum, 11/29

Fleetwood Mac is a huge part of the soundtrack of my youth. Their music is woven into the fabric that makes up the tapestry of my life. I didn't "discover" Fleetwood Mac on my own they were ubiquitous in the 1970's - you couldn't go anywhere without hearing them and because of that the songs are engrained in my psyche. Of course, they were one of the bands that I rejected in my teen years after discovering punk and alternative music.  In my late 20's they again became part of my soundtrack when I summered with friends every year in Fire Island - we played them non-stop and it was perfect, again (or still, actually.)
     I was lucky enough to attend their most recent tour "On With The Show" last weekend.  I had actually never seen them before and this tour, in particular, seemed like the tour to witness with the return (after a 16 year absence) of Christine McVie.  I was right in assuming that it would be amazing and after they opened with "The Chain" I knew we were in for a fun ride. They followed that up with "You Make Loving Fun," & "Dreams" and proceeded to roll out hit after hit until the final encore.  Earlier I had said that Kate Bush was the last living music icon on my list of people I had never seen live - until this year, that is.  Fleetwood Mac (Stevie in particularly) was also worthy of that list but like I said earlier they have always just been there, I didn't have to seek them out and "discover" them unlike Kate Bush.  I mean, they are certainly worthy of all their lasting fame and adoration but I just didn't relize how friggin' excited I'd be to finally see them.  
     After the 2nd song I decided that Christine McVie is the Helen Mirren of rock.  She's graceful, elegant, timeless and still sounds exactly like she did on all the albums. I can't imagine seeing them without her and I'm glad I didn't.  Of course, Stevie Nicks is the superstar of the group.  Let's face it, all your fav Fleetwood songs were penned by her and without her addition the band would never have gone on to sell 45 million copies of "Rumous."  Stevie can't quite hit those high notes anymore but we still love her and forgive her because we all know her whole story and it's shocking that she's still standing let alone performing at all (lord knows I relate 100%.)  Plus, she's adorable and I love that she's graduated to only wearing all black now.
      Stevie told a great story about how her and Lindsey (pre-Fleetwood) started having some success musically and were lucky to open for so many legends like Jimi Hendrix (in front of an audience of 70,000,) Janis Joplin (30,000,) The Eagles, Chicago - the list goes on.  She said she had started to make a little money for the 1st time, she saved a few months pay and was so excited to finally go to the legendary San Francisco store The Velvet Underground.  She walked in and onto the floor that was painted in a beautiful way that she said she has never seen the likes of since & she was in awe of all the gorgeous clothes - she still couldn't afford to buy a thing.  She had what she calls a "future premonition" while in the store and she saw herself not only shopping there soon but never having to look at a price tag again. She was, of course, correct and she said the point of her story wasn't to boast but to let us all know to never stop following our dreams and to never, ever listen to anyone that tells us that we can't do what you want to in life! This was obviously the introduction to "Gypsy" which, I'm certain, is on most people's Top 5 Fleetwood Mac Songs list. 

So I'm back to the velvet underground

Back to the floor that I love

To a room with some lace and paper flowers

Back to the gypsy that I was 

Beside the show the people watching was amazing!  It's nice to go to a concert where I actually feel young in the crowd, nowadays when I see bands I'm fully aware that I could be most people's dads or even (gasp) granddads.  I'd say he median age for this event was 65, give or take several decades.  Before the show we were in the newly renovated Forum Club for a pre-show soiree that included a photographically decorated cake featuring the whole band and a buffet style spread.  I was telling my friends a story about this fun & weird Kiss show I had seen years ago in NYC, Kiss is 3D (aren't all concerts "3D?".)  Just as I finished my story my friend taps me on the shoulder and points and who of all people is standing & waiting in line for a loose meat sandwich (please tell me you get the joke?) - Paul Stanley, of course!  There was also an woman who bore a striking resemblance both physically and fashionably to Barbra Streisand, decked out in many shades of beige.

     Fleetwood Mac played for nearly 3 hours and did every single one of their hits except "Sara."  Even before the 1st encore I was having a hard time imaging what they had left to do but with 40+ year career  I guess it would be impossible for them to run out of songs.  The final encore was "Songbird" which Christine McVie performed alone with a piano.  It was quite a treat knowing that they hadn't done that song in at least 16 years.  In that moment though I was thinking that it was odd that Christie would have the final word of such a momentous show.  Well, as soon as she was done signing and exiting the stage Miss Nicks sauntered back out (there it is) onto center stage to tell one final story to close the night.  She said that that has always been her thing in Fleetwood Mac, coming out to say the final goodbye and leave us with some parting words.  Her story was cute and funny and happened to be about Christine but it doesn't take Dr. Freud to understand that Stevie was not about to be upstaged by anyone.  Makes me love her even more, actually - gotta have a little bit of a bitch inside to get that far in life.