Many thoughts run through our heads, which are now covered with shirts we are using as scarves. The studio is an entire city block. There is a limo with the name J. O'Neil on a sign (we later learn he is a chef). We begin to desperately seek clues regarding the show's topic. Around another corner, we see a tour bus with a guitar painted on it and a large semi pulling some sort of ginormous steel cradle - which we later learned would hold the huge ball of water that David Blaine submerged himself in to break the breath-holding record. But for now, we only think of our show and wonder. A worker comes out a door; innocently we ask. "What's all this?" She will not even make eye contact; her head is lowered; she walks away. THIS SHOW MUST BE HUGE, we think. Why else the limos, the buses, the secrecy?
Sensing pneumonia is imminent, we walk/jog back to the train; coats now serving as soaking wet scarves that are barely staving off the chills. This helped to solidify our decision to ditch the train idea and park across from the studio. We'll get up and bring our car downtown. The dry run paid off; we knew what to do. We hustled back to our hotel, The Write Inn. It had something to do with Hemingway, but heck, we weren't there to sight see; we were there for Oprah. Even the Chicago skyline had been clouded by fog wen we rolled into town; nothing could take our focus off O. We took hot showers, twenty minutes long, to help restore our core body temperatures. We then got dressed and went out for food, deli-style. We had to make it short and sweet. We had to get back and get set for the next day: the big day.
We decided to go to bed early - 7 pm. After all, we were getting up at 4 am for the second day in a row. We needed to go to sleep. But I could not: my thoughts swirled. What would tomorrow bring? After 20 years, my dream would be realized, what would that mean? Brian also could not sleep. He blamed it on the fact I had the heat so high that he thought I might be cooking a small turkey, or just perhaps just boiling his insides. He got up and did some pacing. We were semi-resting by 11 pm. But still waiting.
Four a.m. did come early, but excitement caused me to bounce from my bed. We were dressed and out the door, packed and on our way to the studio by 5 am. We stopped for tea, coffee, and muffins on the way. We took Washington Blvd. to the studios.
We park; pay our $25, and head across the street to Harpo. People are already lining up, but I feel calm, joyful. We are numbers 55 and 56 in line. We are in the inside part of the line. Soon, so many come, they are outside, and it's cold. I have my winter coat on, in fact. Along with tan boots, jeans and a beige and blue top. Purple, green, and hot pink just weren't colors that were working for me. Brian is in jeans, a blue oxford, and a red tie. The line is buzzing - what's the show topic? Will it be a give away show? A big star? May sweeps is upon us after all!!! People are friendly; surprisingly, I am friendly back. Stress and nerves are not making me edgy. I'm in the moment and happy.
The doors open at 6:30 and in we go. More waiting, filling out forms, checking our coats and purses - of course, I didn't bring one. They told us not to. Others don't follow rules as well as I do, or don't love Oprah enough to follow them. You decide which. Pictures of Oprah line the walls. Her 20 year anniversary DVD is playing scenes from OPRAH'S FAVORITE THINGS. Is it a sign? What about that tour bus we saw?
People ask me my story, as I am the obvious number one Oprah fan in the building. After all, I am able to answer every Oprah-related question. I explain that for 20 years, I have wanted to come to the show. In the early years, of course, we wrote letters, not emails. Mine mostly asked for a job, or commented on a show. There may have been an over-the-top one or two begging to meet Bruce Springsteen (Had I been black flagged as a stalker fan? Would I ever see Oprah?). I explained to the curious around me that in 1988, I had no VCR; so when I left for my 4 o'clock job, I would simply leave at 4:05. I figured watching the opening of the show was more important than being on time. This was back in the day when Oprah started all her shows in the audience, because after introducing the guests, she and the audience would ask the panel questions. I needed to see those guests and find out what the topic was before I turned on my cassette recorder. Yes, I said cassette recorder. Those existed back in the day. I would record the sound and listen to the show later, the images of the guests still in my mind. I did this three times a week for a whole season. I couldn't afford a VCR and Tivo didn't exist. Oh, I was a hard-core fan. (Side note, I went to work at 5 on the day Oprah pulled out a wagon of fat.) I have seen or heard every show for 20 years. I have sent many an email....many show ideas.....I'm on the web page weekly trying to find out when to call in. I have students in my study hall help me call in, but to no avail. Until.
Until one email. One fateful check of the web page. One find day in the spring, the time of re-birth and renewal. I see a request for people to write in who have never seen Oprah but want to - THAT'S me!! I send my above-mentioned story. Pick me! They do. They call. I miss it. Yes, readers, I've waited 20 years for that call, and I miss it. I miss the call. Fortunately, I am checking regularly for a text message from my sister and notice I missed the call. I check the message. The Oprah show wants to know if I want tickets. Do I want tickets? Do I want breath? Life? Sustenance? Yes, I do. I pace; I panic; I call back and get a recording. It's Theresa from Audience Reservation's voice mail and her voice assures me they have my tickets , to leave a message, she will get back to me.
Those were a long six hours. I spent part of it crying, part staring at every phone in my house, scribbling "please call back" on a notepad. I sent out an S.O.S to my facebook friends to please start praying. Theresa was true to her word. She called back and offered two tickets to quite possibly the most ecstatic fan in the history of ecstasy. The rest is the written history above. Let's now fast forward back to me. And my husband, one of 12 men, sitting in the studio foyer, waiting to enter the actual studio. Finally we do. Our seats are in the front row of the second section. The stage is set up like an outdoor deck. WHAT IS THE TOPIC? We wait; we kabitz; we dream.
Finally, it's about to begin; the excitement is tangible. And in she walks. A beauty in an orange tunic. She enters to my left, passes a breath's length in front of me. I expectantly reach out a single, quivering hand and whisper "Oprah." She stops, turns, and takes my hand. She looks at me. Only me. Only my hand. I and grateful and tearful and joyful all at once. I can watch a show on any topic now. The dream is real. There goes my girl. She starts our show.
Oprah speaks: "I told the producers I didn't want to do this show. My name's on the show. But they talked me into it. I usually only give away things once a year...." There may be more, but the the crowd erupts into hysterical screams. IT'S A GIVE AWAY SHOW!!!!! The Oprah show jackpot and we hit it!! We scream. We clap. We jump up and down. We hug all around us. We scream some more. I actually may have blacked out for a few minutes. Who knows?! I know this is a dream come true. Brian yells, "I knew it!" We had made our dream boards in February. Oprah is at the top of mine. After the call from Theresa, we added "favorite things" as our dream topic. Oprah would be spending the whole time talking to the audience and giving to us. More than I could have imagined.
First up, Oprah tells us about a turkey burger she had at Donald Trumps resort. She wanted the secret recipe, so The Donald himself delivers it to her and us! Then she gives us all a Weber Grill to make the burger ourselves.
Next up Heidi Klum. She narrates a fashion show and Oprah gives us fit flops and Yummie Tummie tank tops. One set for me; one set for my husband. So really...all for me!
Next, Oprah brings out a gorgeous travel bag, and in it: A GPS system and gift card to the Marriot - around $700 worth of gifts! Again, times two. The crowd is delirious with joy.
Gayle King, Oprah's best friend, comes out next. She does a segment on make-up. We go home with hundreds of dollars worth of O's top picks for make-up. We also get at O Magazine Cookbook and A NEW EARTH CD and book.
The stage crew then appears and rearranges the stage. For a concert. We know who's coming. Brian has been looking over the camera guy's shoulder the whole time and reading camera prompts. Up next, the amazing Mary J. Blige. Oprah sits in the audience with Gayle, waiting. She doesn't talk to me, but she's closer now. Maybe ten feet away, and I just take it all in . I don't want it to go too fast. I don't want to miss any chance to be in the present. I'm there. She's there. I watch her and Mary J. as Mary J. sings "Come Down." Then we get MJB's CD. Oh yes, Mary J. is beautiful, but she can't outshine Oprah, not in my eyes.
The show is ending. It's been awesome. Uh Oh. A glitch. Oprah pulled out a red Marriot gift card and it was suppposed to be green. They have to re-shoot the segment. They have to take down the concert stage and set the outdoor deck stage back up again. Twenty-five extra minutes with Oprah. How great is that?!! She stands on the stage and talks to us. She tells us she is taking her whole work force and all the families on a cruise. We bask as she shares. She does a little bit from a scene in THE COLOR PURPLE. We re-shoot with the same excitement. It draws to a close and we say good-bye. I am grateful and full.
We do have to wait and sign papers, tax forms (Oprah pays all the gift tax), and pick up our goodies that aren't being sent to us. We joyfully get everything, as well as our coats, as we walk out into a sunny late morning. The next show is lined up. They'll see the cast of the Mary Tyler Moore show, but they want to be us. A reporter tries to get the scoop from us, but we signed confidentiality agreements saying we won't disclose Oprah's Hot Picks, until today. As we pass the reporter by, we head to the O store. I want to buy a mug. We are flying high and hit the road, less than 24 hours from when we arrived. But our mission is complete. My dream has been realized. The Chicago skyline shines in the sun behind us as we leave the windy city.
We arrive home at midnight. The road trip home was full of phone calls to tell excited friends and family. Neither of us could sleep on that trip home. And my first waking thought when I rouse from my slumber the next morning = Oprah. Thank you, God, for this gift.
1 comment:
WoW!!!! Awesome,,cool,,very loooooong,but sweet and very enjoyable to read!!! (((andlivethrough!))) Great blogging !!!!!
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