Air Male

I am too old to become a groupie. But when I found out that Michael would be doing a concert tour through many cities in the US, for the first time in several years, I knew that seeing him once, or twice, in my home area just wouldn't be enough. So I planned to do a little traveling. My trip out west in May included his opening night in Houston, Salt Lake City, his triumphant return to the MGM Grand in Las Vegas and Phoenix before returning home to New York to await him coming here to Radio City Music Hall in June/July. All of these concerts I enjoyed immensely needless to say, but I had no idea I was going to have a special brush with my hero in the process.

A friend of mine had been telling me to watch out that I might end up on an airplane with Michael going between venues. But I laughed this off. I could never be lucky enough for that to happen.

Time comes, May 22, 1998, I had an early morning (9am) flight from Salt Lake City to Las Vegas. I decided to wear my Michael t-shirt, the one I had bought at the Houston concert with Michael from the OEW album boldly on it. I knew I would be sightseeing around Vegas all that day and thought what better way to advertise the concert (I always said we are the best publicity department he could never pay for).

As I entered the plane and waited for the aisle to clear in order to pass through the first class section to get to my coach seat, I looked idly at the passengers sitting on the left side of the airplane. Nah, that was silly. Why would he take an early flight when he had a whole free day before the Vegas concert?

Just as casually I looked to the right side of the plane and ....HUH!!!!!.....There he was in the first row of first class, window seat, wearing the green shirt, glasses on, nose buried in a book. Oh, my God, what should I do? Should I say something? I know how greatly he values his privacy. If only he would look up I could smile or wave or do something innocuous. Then I remembered that I had his face plastered across my chest. I clasped my hand over the picture as if I could make it go away. He had undoubtedly seen me as I was coming down the jetway and now was desperate to be inconspicuous.

As I made my way down the aisle I both hoped and dreaded that he would look up. Alas he did not. I made no contact. I went down to my seat in the third row of the coach section and hyperventilated for the entire hour's flight. I tried to peek into first class in case he got up to go to the lavatory, but it was only an hour so I was not accorded that privilege. However, after we landed I did see him get up, turn towards me and get something from behind the first class seats and then go into the overhead luggage compartment and take down his hand luggage like any old ordinary person (!!!!)

He was quickly off and did not stop at baggage claim so that was the end of my Michael encounter. Looking back, sometimes I think that I am sorry I did not say something to him, but thinking hard on it I think he would appreciate that I respected his privacy, especially if he saw me before I saw him. And seeing him take down his hand luggage was indeed a special, private glimpse into his life that most fans will never have. So from now on I am watching very carefully all my fellow passengers. You never know who you may be flying with.

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