Watermelon Juice and Stevie

I remember in 4th grade that we were given an assignment to write a report on one of the United States. We had to pick a state and then research the encyclopedias and other books in the library to formulate a report that was a few pages long. We also had to include an art project with our assignment that was relevant to our state. More than half the class chose New York because that is the state we were living in, another third chose Florida and a couple chose California. I remember feeling badly that there were 50 states and the entire class had decided to skip 47 of them. I felt like Mrs. Broncato should have assigned the states because now the kids were all going to have the same report. I did not choose one of those three states.

I chose New Mexico. I don't know why I chose New Mexico, but I think it is because you never really hear anything about New Mexico and I wanted to know what it was all about. I read a few entries in the several sets of encyclopedias learning all about Francisco de Coronado, Juan de Onate and the Mexican War. I learned that New Mexico is the 5th largest state in area and at the time was the 2nd least populated state. After reading so much about New Mexico, I always kept in the back of my mind that someday, I would live there. My art project was a diorama with an adobe house and a saguaro cactus. Which if you have been to New Mexico, you know that we do not have saguaro cacti here, it can be found in Tucson, Arizona. Apparently I had not done as much research as I should have.

And so when I had the opportunity to move wherever I wanted to go, I chose Santa Fe, New Mexico with my then partner, Andy. I dove into the community immediately and could not get enough of the culture, the art, the food and the little quirky adventures that only Santa Fe could provide. One of the first things I chose to do was go to the famous flea market up on the hill by the opera. The flea market became a place that I went to often for a few reasons- I liked the variety of merchandise mixed with local artists, I liked the furniture of which a few pieces became part of my home, and most of all, I craved the watermelon juice they serve at the snack bar. The watermelon juice is exactly what it sounds like- freshly squeezed watermelon. In the giant glass jars that they serve from, you can see the seeds floating on top and chunks of watermelon floating to the bottom. They serve it in an over sized Styrofoam cup with a straw and a lot of times, when you press the plastic top on the cup, it will leak down the sides. This is one of the most refreshing drinks you could imagine- not only does it taste good, but it hydrates you on a hot, summer day in the dry desert. I don't know how I know this, but it is also very good with vodka.

I think it goes without saying to everyone I know, that Stevie Nicks is someone that I am "obsessed" with. I have traveled many miles to catch her perform and after seeing her more than 20 times throughout my life, I could see her another 20 if the opportunity presented itself. I was even Stevie Nicks for Halloween once.

I did have the chance to meet her once in Columbus when my friend Karrie's girlfriend was a DJ at the local radio station. She invited me to the station when they were interviewing Stevie. For about a week, it is all I spoke about. When the time came to walk downtown and meet her, I turned around and went back home. I chickened out. I did not want meeting her in person to ruin my perception of her and since I do hold her up on a pedestal, I did not want to lose that. This always seems rather funny to most people when I mention this, and I certainly am not a psycho celebrity follower, but I remember Stevie getting me through so many difficult times of my life. I identify with her, the choices she's made and how she's written about the hardships in her songs and poetry. One of my biggest regrets now is that I did not embrace the moment to meet her. Have no fear, I still managed to pick up two dozen white roses to present to her at the concert the same night I was to meet her. The security guard would not let me up to the front of the stage and promised to give them to her. I decided to hang onto the flowers until I noticed the security guard disappear and make my way to the stage. I purposefully waited until she was near the end of her set, so if I did get kicked out of the stadium, I wouldn't miss much. I did make it to the stage, laid the flowers in front of her microphone which was flocked in black ribbons, feathers and beads. I made it back to my seat safely in time for the encore.

I had heard that Stevie Nicks frequented Santa Fe and at some point, she was rumored to have actually purchased property there. I had hoped to run into her at some point and could make up for the time that I missed meeting her. On one trip to the flea market, I convinced myself it would be best for me to make it halfway through the flea market before stopping in the middle to get a watermelon juice. When I got to exactly halfway, I stopped and went to get the juice. Perfect! Nobody in line. I get up to the counter and the guy says to me, "Excuse me" and yells to the lady in the back, "Hey! Stevie Nicks just left her wallet here."

And here is what happens next...

I grabbed the wallet. Yes. I asked which way she walked. I ran up and down every aisle of the flea market. I asked every vendor, frantically if they had seen her. When I was in the last aisle, I quizzed another merchant, in a serious panic, "Have you seen her? Stevie Nicks! Is she here, was she here, which way did she go?" She was standing right there, behind me, with a few people by her side. I felt a little ridiculous at this point being totally out of breath and red in the face. I said, "You left your wallet at the snack bar." She gracefully took the wallet, very slowly. She said, "Thank you." She turned slowly in the opposite direction and grabbing one of the guys' arms she was with, walked very quickly to the gate, out to the parking lot and disappeared like Rhiannon in the sky. I don't even remember what she was wearing, whether or not she had a carpetbag purse, if she had purchased anything while shopping, or quite frankly, if it was even really her. This whole saga probably happened in less time than it took you to read this paragraph. For me, however, it lasted a lifetime.

I went back to retrieve my watermelon juice and asked the guy at the snack bar if it was really Stevie. He said, "Hell if I know, but it sure as hell looked like her." The thing is, in Santa Fe, it is not uncommon to dress like Stevie Nicks... too bad we hadn't taken a second to look at the ID inside. Now I walk away, to sit at one of the picnic tables in the gravel and reflect on the moment. I always wondered if it was really her. I wondered if she had to leave the flea market because of a crazy fan or if she was going to leave anyway- she was in the last aisle after all. Either way, I had my Santa Fe watermelon juice which made running after her worthwhile.