The Road to the Red Shoes

[wentod@rpi.edu (Debra L. Wentorf)]

Hi, fellow Love-Hounds!

It's me, the prodigal daughter -- Deb Wentorf -- after a two-year hiatus
that's left me sadly out of touch with all of you...my fellow Love-Hounds!
 But fear not!  After a bit of digging, I was able to find Ed Suranyi's e-mail
address, and he was able to get me started back on the road to recovery.  =)
 It's good to be back!

But now on to the real reason for writing.  Last Thursday, December 9, 1993,
will live as a day of infamy for all of us Love-Hounds who were lucky enough
to meet -- yea, to touch and talk with -- our fair Kate.  A friend of mine had
told me the previous week that Our Beloved was going to grace NYC with Her
prescence, and so we left Albany shortly after 8:00 for the trek down to the
Big Apple.

By the time we arrived outside Tower Records, the line was already half-way
down one side of the block, with approximately 50-60 people ahead of our
three-person band of merry men.  As fate would have it, we'd been standing in
line little more than half an hour when here comes this guy down the sidewalk
holding out a sign reading "Love Hound?"  (Y' know, guy, now that I think of
it...*did* I ever catch your name?)   Anyway, what should he tell me but that
the "guy who'd been here since 6:00 that morning" was none other than our own
Andy Marvick...why didn't I think of that myself?  So natch I had to go up and
introduce myself to him; Doug was there, too, and I have to admit I was amazed
that you both remembered me, guys!  Of course, Andy had a big bouquet of white
roses waiting patiently in a large paper cup for Her Kateness; well done, guy!
I'm sure she loved them!

Okay, okay.  To make a long story short, it was incredible.  People were
literally standing on garbage bins and even the side of the building in hopes
of either getting a glimpse of her and/or taking pictures.  Finally, the folks
in Tower Records caught on and put cardboard up over the windows (bummer!  we
hadn't had a clear shot at pictures yet!!), so we were left to wait and
wonder.  After a little over 4 1/2 hours of waiting -- and dealing with
numbing hands and feet -- we were rewarded with a spin through the revolving
door that put us in the same room with Kate.  We all had to queue around a set
of racks that had been strategically placed so as to avoid people stampeding
up to Kate, so it wasn't until I was about 40 feet from the front table that I
was able to see anything...I leaned a bit to the left and...there she was, her
face peeping between the queue of people and a huge vase of red roses that
stood on one corner of the table she was sitting at.  At first, I almost
cried; it didn't even seem *real* to be looking up there and *seeing* her.  I
mean, I was awestruck.

For starters, she's lovely.  I can still picture her clearly, with her dark
chestnut, reddish-brown hair spilling down over her left shoulders as she bent
to sign another autograph.  Her eyes are amazing; they're brown, but a *light*
brown, almost golden...and they can just as easily crinkle up at the corners
when she smiles, or look *deep* into you.  Her hands are small, and her right
one was very warm as I shook it; it felt good in my cold one!  And her
clothing...much humbler than I expected somehow:  an over-sized black leather
jacket over a black top, a navy blue mini-skirt...slim legs clad in dark hose
and finally ending in a pair of black cloggy-heeled shoes.

I noted this in the space of an instant; everything was a blur, pretty much.
 But I managed to tell her that meeting her was an incredible thrill and an
honor (now *there's* an understatement for you!), and I told her that I had
been lucky enough to have gotten an article published about her, and I told
her that I would be really honored if she would sign my magazine.  She smiled
big and said "Oh thanks, that's really nice of you to write about me..."  And
up came the pen.

"To Deb with love, Kate Bush  X"  appeared magically in Kate's round, flowing
hand in the lower right-hand corner of the magazine cover, and I barely had
time to thank her sincerely before I was whisked away by one of the half-dozen
bodyguards or whatever they were who were hovering like vultures around the
table.  I was unceremoniously ushered out to the other side of a rope barrier,
but I barely noticed.  I had just lived through a dream....

Anyway, still moving like I was in a fog, clutching my magazine, I went up to
the upper level of the store, where folks like myself could admire her...if
from a-far.  I saw one guy there who was leaning on his arm, just sort of
looking down at her, and I said, " I can't believe I just met her.  She's such
a lovely person..."  To which the guy answered dreamily, his chin still
propped in his hand, "She's a goddess."  Under any other circumstances, it
would have been funny, how he said that in that moony sort of voice, but
judging by the atmosphere of the store, I'd say that summed the whole thing up
pretty well.

Well, during the twenty-some minutes that I remained in the store after she
signed my magazine, I casually went up and down the staircase that passed
right next to where she was sitting, and just *looked* at her for as long as I
dared before the guards inevitably shooed me away and told us to "keep the
aisle clear."  As amazing as she is, folks, she's also so *normal* somehow,
and I watched and noted the little things about her: the way she sat, poised
perkily on the very front of the metal folding chair; the way she fiddled with
the big marking pen between signatures (she must have been dying for a
cigarette); the way she swept her hair back away from that amazing, shining
face (indeed, she glowed); the soft pout of her lips as she sipped Coke from
an ordinary white styrofoam cup.

But you get the point.  It was a day I won't ever forget...literally hours of
travel and waiting in line in the cold and noise to spend about 30 seconds
with Kate.  And would I ever do it again?

It was one of those "moments of pleasure" Kate sings about on _The Red Shoes_.
You *bet* I'd do it all again.


But that's enough for now.  So, until next time, all the best to all of
you...it's good to be home!

Deb Wentorf