I Met Michael Stipe

My Dreams Have All Come True

I was sitting alone in a trendy vegetarian restaurant, munching on a veggie burger and drinking coffee, when, a few minutes later, who should walk in but Michael Stipe himself, large as life (well, actually, he looks quite small in the flesh as opposed to seeing him on television. I cannot go to the R.E.M. concert in Toronto this summer, so I knew that if I wanted to make up for that loss I would have to make a sojourn to Athens and just see if Michael was around. There was no way that I was going to pursue him, hang around his house or anything obnoxious like that. I just wanted to casually meet him but only if he approached me first. He was obviously at this restaurant (one of his, actually, as I found out later) to eat and be left alone, so I just sat where I was, reading the paper and shaking violently.

Time crawled at a snail's pace. My heart was pounding so hard in my ears that I couldn't hear anything else. The restaurant was practically empty, something that surprised me and, though I figured Michael was meeting someone at this establishment, but I was wrong. He was just there for a bite to eat, seeming to enjoy the solitude. So you can see why I was adverse to walking up to him. I had been told by an e-mail friend who lives in Athens not to go to the southern town just to meet Michael, and I really wasn't there just for that. I was checking out the place to see if I wished to move there for a change that I hoped would be a positive one.

As I sat there reading and eating, the food getting stuck halfway down my desert-dry throat, I suddenly felt as though someone was watching me. Lifting my eyes off the newspaper, I nearly choked to death when I saw Michael Stipe, someone I'd wanted to meet for many years. He smiled at me, that wonderful, warm grin of his and I felt I would melt off my chair and onto the floor in a puddle of rainwater. I smiled back at him but stayed in my seat, determined not to tread upon his space. The next thing that happened had me so excited I nearly whoofed my cookies: Michael Stipe, a man I admired, respected and was in awe of, was standing right beside me.

I opened my mouth but no sound came out. He smiled again and said in that wonderfully sexy voice of his, "Hello. Are you visiting or moving here? I've never seen you around before".

I was stunned into total silence. No words would come out and I figured Michael would think I was some sort of simpleton. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I managed to squeeze out a weak and wussy, "I'm just, um, visiting. It's so great to finally meet you, Michael". I was shaking down into my shoes. It's hard to walk in dignity with throw-up on them.

Michael then SAT DOWN with me and asked me if I was a vetetarian. I told him I was and that I was happy that he was one himself. Michael's eyes are almost indescribable; large and luminous, blazing blue framed with the longest and thickest lashes I'd ever seen. I fell into his eyes at that moment and time suddenly stood still.

Michael looked directly at me and said, gently, "Please don't be nervous or anything like that. I'm just like you are. I don't like this "star stuff" much, which is probably why I still live here. Peter may prefer Seattle, but not Mike and me. Just relax and pretend you're having lunch with your brother".

"I do have a brother", I responded somewhat lamely, "but he doesn't give me goosebumps like you do. Let me tell you that "Up" is now my absolute favourite CD of yours. It's breathtakingly spectacular and I play it all the time. My favourite songs are, "At My Most Beautiful" and "Diminished". Those are brilliant, Michael".

"You like "Diminished"? Hmm, that's interesting. The character in the song isn't very likeable".

I felt myself blushing again, but at the same time, I was feeling more relaxed with Michael, something I never could have predicted in a milliion years. "Oh, I don't know if he's entirely bad", I responded, taking a sip of my now-cold coffee. "He knows what he did was wrong and that in itself makes him less than depraved. He's no Jeffrey Dahmer, Michael".

"No, that's true enough. Actually, the character is a complex weaving of good and evil, as most of us are. We're far from perfect beings. Can you believe this? We've been sitting here talking awhile and I didn't ask you your name. What is it?"

"Jane", I responded. "Just think of Tarzan and you won't forget it". I couldn't believe how dumb I was sounding just then.

Michael laughed heartily and told me I was a cool person to talk to. I looked around to see if he was talking about someone else but there were only two other people in the restaurant and they were over sixty-five years of age.

"You're the cool one, Michael. I never expected you to just walk over here and sit down with me. Things like that just don't happen in my world".

"Well, they should. You're an interesting young woman with a great sense of humour. I for one am glad you decided to spend your vacation time here in Athens. It's not exactly Toronto, but I like it".

"Well", I began, "I don't live in Toronto myself. Yes, I am Canadian but live in a town called London, Ontario. It's bigger than this place but not a whole lot. It's a university town too."

I then get asked over to Michael's house to see his dogs and cat. I'm a cat-lover myself but still think dogs are pretty decent. Other events: Michael takes me to the 40 Watt Club, he and Mike Mills put on a mni-show for me since I am not able to go to Toronto to see R.E.M. in concert. Mike is a real sweetheart, and sexy too.

Please tune in later today when I get this page nearly finished. If it happened to me, it can happen to you too.

If anyone wants to write to me for any reason or want to know more about Michael, I can be reached at: [email protected]

Okay, the day is almost over so I have a confession to make about this site: APRIL FOOL'S!! But I'm having so much fun with this fantasy that I am continuing it tomorrow. Hope everyone has a healthy sense of humour.