Monday, January 17, 2011

Been There, Done That: John Stamos

The summer of 1992 was a memorable one for me. Not only was I working with Alan Osmond Productions; this year, I was an Associate Producer for the Stadium of Fire. If you’re not from Utah, you may never have heard of Stadium of Fire, but I’m here to tell you it’s one of the biggest 4th of July fireworks extravaganzas in the country.

But having this new job title and role wasn’t the biggest part of my excitement. This year our talent was going to be The Beach Boys. Alan had worked a long time to arrange their appearance in Provo, and the excitement was high not only in our office, but in the entire city.

Lots of ticket requests came daily into our office, and once the general tickets went on sale they were gone in a matter of hours. If seemed everyone wanted to see The Beach Boys.

But not me! Beach Boys—I could take ‘em or leave ‘em.

But The Beach Boys’ drummer—that’s who I wanted to see. Word was out in all the tabloids that John Stamos was spending his summer hiatus from Full House touring as the drummer with The Beach Boys, and I was ready for him.

I couldn’t wait to see in person that gorgeous hunk who played Jesse Katsopolis.

Instructions flew through the production office that The Beach Boys themselves were very particular about when, where, and how they met people, and for the most part on Karl Engemann—who worked with the group during his Capitol Records days—and Alan Osmond himself were to approach the guys for anything other than their cue to come on stage.

Okay, no problemo for me, really. Unless that meant I wouldn’t get my chance to see John. That would be a problem!

The day of the show was busy, busy, busy as always. Last minute tickets to distribute from the office, technical glitches to work out on stage or with the fireworks, lots of people calling the office, errands needing run, and press conference details to finalize.

Even though I hadn’t seen John yet anywhere—I had seen the other guys entering their trailer late in the afternoon—I was still prepared, just in case I did. I had an ink pen, which I had tested to make sure it worked, and a blank note card—a perfect place for an autograph which would store easily in my hip pocket.

About a half an hour prior to the press conference, I was on the opposite side of the stadium from where my trailer office was located, delivering a stack of Beach Boy photos to the conference room. I was just heading back to my office when I came around the corner a little too fast and nearly ran right into him—John Stamos in all his incredible-looking glory!

Here we were face-to-face and I could hardly think of a thing to say. After a few “uh-uh-uhs” on my part, I at last gathered my wits enough to pull out the card and the pen. “May I have your autograph?”

“Sure,” John said, as he took the card and pen from me an wrote his name.

“Thanks,” I said when he handed the card back. I think I muttered something about being such a fan, but the only other response I got from him was a shy-looking smile.

“Well, thanks again,” I said, as I started to stumble back in the direction I was originally going. John turned to enter the conference room area which I had just left.

The only other time I saw him was during the concert while he was on stage, wailing away on those drums. They didn’t even introduce him to the audience until the very end of the show, when they did the band introductions. It was like he wasn’t really a part of the group, but I didn’t care.

All I could think about for days after was about being Jesse’s girl and how close I had actually been to crashing right into him.

Sigh. . .

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