A Beautiful Experience with Aimee Mann and a Day of Betrayal

Aimee Mann sits so beautifully at the piano singing King of the Jailhouse at the Belcourt in Nashville. (Photo by Dave Weil)

It was a day like no other. I arrived at the school to pick up my check and was informed that I was going to lose my job as a teacher due to my lack of certification in teaching science to middle school aged kids. Never mind the fact that I was hired with the understanding that I would have 3 years to get certified. Ignore the fact that the school had paid me to attend the National Science Convention in Atlanta, and I was already enrolled in work studies during the Summer. Forget that my homeroom unanimously voted for me as Teacher of the Year. Do not notice that the student teacher that is replacing me belittled the teachers that were Christians and tried to set me up by turning in a rubric that had a misspelled word on it to the teacher after I had asked the student teacher to proofread it for me. Let's face it, it has been three months and I am still quite bitter about the whole affair.
In retrospect, I suppose I was stupid in spending money to go 120 miles to a concert that was already sold out. I should have been more responsible and not spent money on gas, the concert, and a long distance phone call to the historic venue, the Belcourt. I should have probably stopped with the phone call I placed to the Belcourt's manager Steve Small. He had told me that the show was sold out and that I would be lucky to get inside. I guess I should have saved my money for tougher times, but sometimes a person has to treat himself when he has had a really rough day. I had loved Aimee Mann's songs since 1985, and I was at least going to make an attempt to see her, because Aimee does not come to the Southeast often.
My wife and I arrived at the Belcourt about an hour and a half before the show was set to begin. There was only one other person in line. I talked to the staff to see if any tickets had became available (they hadn't) and the staff said they would ask people if they had extra tickets (they did). I asked Aimee's drummer, John Sands (last person to the right) if the band had any tickets (they hadn't). We were second and third in a line that at the time had stretched behind the building when one person had one extra ticket as the doors were opening. I prchased it and gave it to my wife. She reluctantly took the ticket from me. She loved Aimee, too, but she also knew that I would not leave her outside by herself. Thankfully another person had a single ticket to sell about ten minutes later (other people were looking for tickets but wanted more than one), and I joined my wife at the front row seat she had saved for me. I was inside before Julian Coryell opened the show.
Aimee came on and sounded fantastic. She joked with my wife when she got up asking her, "Where are you going?". My wife was going to the bathroom after holding it for half the show. Everytime she was going to get up another great song had started. Aimee even looked at me and asked me what I wanted to hear. It was beyond wonderful.
After the show we went around back and were thrilled to meet Aimee Mann. My Sony Mavica had recently stopped working due to a system deffect that was common but not under any recall. I asked a person if he would take a picture of my wife and me with Aimee and email it to us. He agreed. I think his name was Steve. My wife wrote the email address down on a scrap of a cigarette box she found. I had a feeling we would never hear from the guy, and unfortunately, I was right.
So, here I sit three months later, still unemployed because the other schools had hired the teachers they were getting prior to my learning I would not be re-hired. I only have Aimee to thank for softening the blow. Thank You, Aimee!