Dear Bono, You Probably Don't Remember Me, But...

Well, haven’t YOU guys just been everywhere this week.. Letterman performances each night, getting a Manhattan street named after U2 (at least for awhile), playing at Fordham this morning, and probably lots of other activities around town we don’t even know about. Congratulations on the new album, and I hope you’ve enjoyed your week in New York City.

But it’s actually your appearance in another city – and in another time – that I wanted to write about tonight, so you and I can sort of reminisce. It was certainly a memorable time for me. Not because I watched you play music, but because you watched me.

I think it was early 1989. I was an anchorman in Nashville. U2 had just released “Rattle and Hum,” the movie and soundtrack, and you were already pretty much the biggest band in the world. You and your bassist, Adam Clayton, you’ll recall, embarked on a driving trip across America, that naturally enough, brought you to Music City, USA. You were hanging out with some Nashville cats, keeping a pretty low profile, but all the media folks knew you were in town. By coincidence, one night that week I was hosting a charity performance, as I did each month, at a famous dive called The Station Inn, a little cinder block building down by the railroad tracks that hosted the world’s greatest bluegrass and acoustic performers. It was home-away-from-home for me and my wife. Usually, I just emceed the event, but every few months, I would ask some of my pals, who happened to be world class musicians themselves, to back me for a five-song set; guys like dobro genius Jerry Douglas, now the featured sideman with Allison Krause, and bassist Edgar Meyer, and guitarist Pat Flynn from the legendary band New Grass Revival. They were always so nice to join me, playing for free. I’m convinced to this day it’s because they felt sorry for me, and wanted to do what they could to keep me from sucking totally. (I’ll add a picture to this post next week of our “band” in action.)

Anyway, we had just finished playing our first song, and I see my wife, Lauren, walking up to the stage to tell me something. She seemed all keyed up; I assumed she was going to tell me my fly was down. Instead, she whispers, “Bono is here!”

Sure, ‘nuff, you and Adam were sitting at a table near the back, drinking some longneck beers and checking us out. Now, I was generally nervous enough anyway doing these performances; I can play alright, but no one has ever accused me of being an especially “good” singer. So you can imagine how I felt knowing that the most famous rock singer in the world was sitting 25-feet away. (My professional band mates, on the other hand, kicked it up a notch, burdened as they were with substantial musical talent.)

But I got through it okay… can’t remember all the songs, but there was a cool version of Paul Simon’s “Duncan” that showed off my friends’ chops for you and Adam. Afterwards, you told one of your people to have us come by, so my wife and I sat down and chatted with you for a bit. (My wife was also a news anchor in Nashville, and I remember you asking if news anchors often intermarried). You couldn’t have been nicer, and gladly agreed to be in the picture I’ve included here. You really WERE happy to do it, despite the rock star glower you’re sporting in the picture. But at least you weren’t wearing a bolo tie and what appears to be some sort of Nehru shirt. I thought it looked good at the time.

I’ve never bumped into you since, but my wife and I have always loved telling people that story. Let’s stay in touch, and I’ll let you know if I’ll be gigging anywhere else. You can come by again. Maybe sit in on a song or two. We’ll catch up.