"Forever" Album Signing

Written as a keepsake for myself, this is the tale of my Bon Jovi album signing adventure on June 7, 2024.

 

Grimey’s, a record store in Nashville, held a promotion to pre-order Bon Jovi’s new “Forever” album in advance of its June 7^th release.  There were a limited number of CDs and viny albums available for pre-order, but for each item purchased, the buyer got a wristband that entitled them to attend a release day album signing at the shop. I would’ve been entirely clueless to this event had it not been for my good friend Tori Alainn forwarding me the information.

 

Unfortunately, when I tried to buy a CD, they were already sold out.  Fortunately, I did manage to get a vinyl album, which will look nicer on my wall, anyway!

 

The day of the event was hot but not unbearably so until you’d been standing in the direct sunlight for an hour.  The next half-hour built to a level that was pretty close to miserable, but I rocked back and forth from one foot to another and watched my fellow event goers.   In front of me was a couple and their two grown daughters whose family photo I later took in front of the Bon Jovi mural.  In front of them was a man with his eight- or nine-year-old son.  I’m firmly convinced that the wife/mom sent them to do her bidding in the heat, and I applaud her for that as well as the Bon Jovi socks the boy wore. 

 

Behind me was a fellow West Virginian, even though she was wearing the wrong college logo to be from my part of the state.  We didn’t hold it against one another as we briefly chatted.  I found out that she was a bartender who’d been in Nashville for seven months.  At a point much later in the adventure, I found out the two ladies behind her were also from yet another part of West Virginia?  Who would’ve thought chance would line us all up together in East Nashville?

 

Overall, I’m not the a very chatty person, so that pretty much exhausts what I learned about the people around me.  Well, except for the folks up front who I learned were geniuses.  How did I learn, you might ask?  It was pretty obvious since they brought their own shade in the form of umbrellas. 

 

Genius is definitely not in my DNA, because the event coordinators sent us all a helpful email warning of the heat and suggesting to bring a tote bag (so that you didn’t have to hold your album the entire time) and a bottle of water.  Did I listen?  Nope.  I didn’t want to look like a nerd, but that nerd herd with the umbrellas sure had.  If I’d shown up just a little later, my place in line would’ve been in the shade of the breezeway behind the building.  Ah well.  I managed to stand for ten hours waiting for Bon Jovi at Bamboozle.  What was 90 minutes in Nashville, especially since I would get the chance to be closer to the band than I ever had before.  Squeee!

 

Tick-tock, tick-tock.  The band was twenty minutes late when I saw phone cameras go into action.  Did I mention I was on the far back corner of the building, so I couldn’t see squat of the comings and goings out front?  Yeah.  That.  But the crowd reaction was dependable, and the line starting moving.

 

I’m almost to the front corner of the building when I suck a gasp of mild horror.  The plastic on the album!  Do I leave it on or take it off?  I’m not an album signing connoisseur, dammit!  What’s considered more pristine?  Is there protocol for such thing?  Two quick SOS text messages don’t get me an answer in a nanosecond, so I make an abrupt judgment call and remove the plastic.  The autographs should be permanently attached to the album cover, not removable. 

 

Whew.  As if I hadn’t already been sweating buckets, that little moment drained me dry of whatever moisture still dwelt in my body.    Dumbass moment averted, I took quick inventory of the people who were turning from the straight line we’d been standing in to the store’s front sidewalk.  One man in particular caught my attention.

 

I’d noticed his black club shirt from behind, with pastel records printed on it, but not much else.  Now I had a full side view of him in his wrinkled shorts, and patterned socks with loafters… and he reminded me of Hugh McDonald!  Not as then or as well-kept as Hugh, but there was something about him that gave off that Huey vibe.  I snapped a quick pic and texted it away while laughing to myself.

 

He moved along, and I rounded the building corner for my turn on the sidewalk.  There were only eight to ten people between me and the entrance.  Much like an amusement park ride line, the employee staffing the door would ask how many in your party and herd groups along according to how much room.  I was traveling solo and got inside at the same time as the family of four and, oh my Jovi, did that dim, cool record store a glorious haven for the overheated. 

 

But, wait!  I didn’t have time to bask in the “bought air”.  Bon Jovi was in the building.  Literally! 

 

All seven men were seated closely together on the small platform at the back of the store.  Left to right, it was John Shanks, Hugh McDonald, Tico Torres, Jon Bon Jovi, David Bryan, Phil Xenidis, and Everett Bradley.  And when I say “at the back of the store”, please don’t misunderstand.  I’ve paid hundreds of dollars for concert seats that weren’t as close as the front and back of this building. 

 

Still yet, I knew my phone wasn’t going to get me great photos, so I whipped out my trusty Canon and started snapping photos as the line crept steadily along.  I’d taken maybe half a dozen photos when it occurred to me to use the zoom.  I told you the front and back were close.

 

 *Zoom* 

Holy mother of pearl.  If I could just catch them in a still moment between event goers, these would be some great nose-hair quality pictures!

Oh, and if my hands would stop shaking.  Even if you asked me why they shook, I couldn’t tell you.  I have no crush on those men.  I hadn’t even given a passing thought to being nervous up until now, but I tried a test video and realized that was NOT going to do anyone any good.  The first few pictures weren’t great either.  Ever tried to hold a vinyl album and take pictures with shaky hands at the same time without sticking the newly emancipated album cover under your sweaty arm?  That’s what I was facing. 

 

Quickly approaching the front of the line, I tucked the camera back in my purse alongside my phone. 

 

“Lay your album flat on the table in front of him,” the event coordinator instructed the man in front of me. 

 

It only took a glance to see this was a conveyor belt style operation.  Shanks signed and slid the album to Hugh, who slid it to Tico, and on down the line.  This at least reduced the opportunity for me fumbling it and putting Jon Bon Jovi’s eye out with the corner of the album cover.  While I may not have a crush on him, I can admit the man has pretty eyes, and it would suck to be responsible for messing up one of them. 

 

It was my turn to slide my album onto the tablecloth-covered folding table.  Honestly, I don’t remember anything about John Shanks touching my album.  I’m not even sure I looked at him.  In fact, I probably didn’t. 

 

I did, however, speak to Hugh.  “There was a guy in line who looked just like you.  I couldn’t figure out why they’d make you stand in line.  But you’re much better dressed than he is.  Ha ha.”  He looked at me like I was slightly insane.  Like his mouth was smiling but his eyes were darting.  You know the look, right? 

 

Oh, you are an idiot, Carol Jovi. 

 

I was so immersed in my cringey behavior that Tico got the blessing of silence while he etched his name onto the cover. 

 

Rally, girl.  Rally.  You have something legit to say to Jon. 

 

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders as my copy of “Forever” slid under his fingertips.

 

“I’ve listened to it four times this morning.  It’s a great album!”

 

The Sharpie lifted from the cover and it slid over to the next contestant as Jon’s eyes went a bit wide in that special way that says, “No shit, lady.”.  But to give him credit, he mustered up a fake, closed-lipped smile – and gave me a thumbs-up.  Golly gee, y’all.  I got a thumbs up. 

 

No time to dwell on the level of “special” I was racking up with these men, because David was scratching his big “DB” in the upper right corner.  The guy had just moved to Nashville, so his boss had leaked.  What a perfect thing to reference, right? 

 

“How are you likin’ Nashville?” I asked chipperly, channeling my inner Reese Witherspoon. 

 

He wasn’t impressed.  He regarded me with flat eyes and lips while nodding and saying (also flatly), “Excellent.”

 

“Glad to hear that!” 

 

Move along, Carol.  Move along.

 

Phil was already finished signing, but that didn’t grant him any reprieve from my awkwardness.  I tapped the table in front of him with a smile and said, “Hi, Phil!”  Or did I say, “Hi, Phil X!”?  God, please don’t let me have referred to him as Phil X to his face.  I didn’t.  I’m sure I didn’t.  Mostly. 

 

One last stop with the wonderfully gracious Everett Bradley whose smile was bright and sincere when returning my newly prized memorabilia.  For him, I had a genuine smile and heartfelt, “Thank you, sir.”

 

Treasure in hand, I moved a few feet up the end aisle of albums and laid mine on top of some so that I might get a better angle for video.  I tried a couple, and they were okay, but being more in the store’s center would be better. 

 

I grabbed my album and fastidiously avoided the oversized man in the next aisle whose coral polo made his tanned face and arms look like we were already three months deep into summer.   Matt Bongiovi the brother-slash-security detail didn’t interest me, and I left him diligently watching the crowd (when not posing for photos with some of the ladies).

 

The next aisle over, but toward the back of the store, was Darin (Darren?), who worked for Bon Jovi in various capacities over the years.  I assumed he was there as back-up security for today’s event, but when he walked past me toward the door without a second glance, I stepped into the long aisle with my camera and got some decent shots. 

Satisfied with my haul for the day, I headed out of the store, thanking the gentleman manning the door for a great event.  I had come into the building from the right but took a left upon exit.  There was supposed to be a new Bon Jovi mural on the outside of the shop.  From what I could gather, they paint newly released album covers on the sides of the building, meaning I needed to get a picture now since I probably wouldn’t make it back before they painted over it with something else. 

 

As I was taking a photo, the wife of the family who’d been in front of me in line asked if I’d like my picture taken with the mural.  The over was a gracious one that I accepted and returned in kind when her daughters and husband arrived. 

 

My Friday adventure was over, and I spent a few minutes in the air-conditioned car sending text messages before driving around the building and to exit the parking lot.  The black, chauffeured vehicles that delivered the band here were already gone. 

 

Those guys knew how to sign their name and get the heck out of dodge.

 

*poof*

 

I took a cue from them and did the same.