When I Die
By: Deanna

If I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die listening to Clay
Aiken.  If I'm outside on my swing set with my CD
player and that chain snaps and I wind up breaking my
neck, yes, I will scream for help but I will also make
sure those ear phones are fit into place.  If I'm
ninety-seven and lying on my death bed with my
daughter holding my hand asking "Mom, what do you
need?", I'm going to look at her and whisper, "Put
Invisible on, Deary."  And if I'm drowning in the
Atlantic Ocean, I'll be screaming Back For More on my
way down.  It's not because I'm obsessive and it's not
because I don't have a life.  It's because dear Mr.
Aiken will be reminding me where I've been...and where
I'm going. 

 
    The first time I heard Invisible, I was at one of the
American Idol Season Two concerts (like many of us,
I'm sure).  It was at the United Center in Chicago,
IL...row 38.  Now the United Center's sound system
stinks...really, it does.  I could barely understand a
word of what Clay was saying.  I had no idea how the
chorus went until I heard it on Nickelodeon’s Let's
Just Play special. None the less I was happy.  I was
thirteen.  I was young...er.  I was carefree.  It was
the first non-cover song of Clay's since This Is The
Night and I don't think any of us fans were
disappointed.  I walked out of the United Center
singing the lyrics to a song I didn't know the lyrics
to.  Except this one...

Saw your face in the crowd
I call out your name but you don't hear a sound

While people can pick up their sticks and beat
Invisible as much as they want (i.e. "It's a stalker
song!") it's always been the song of innocence for me.
It stamps a time of my life when I still didn't know
bout the world.  I was still naive to many things that
now-a-days five-year-olds know.  I was sheltered but
happy.  It reminds me of driving around with my best
friend and sister, windows down, screaming the lyrics
to the song while a car passed us by with a look of
"Wow...they're losers," wide across their faces.  But
we were young and ignorant...but happy.  Invisible
brings back that feeling.  I want to take that with me
when I die.
   
    When I was young...er, I would go with my sister to
various Hanson concerts.  (You remember MMMbop)  I
would always see girls in a huddle, bawling their
faces off, crying, and holding hands...just a real
site for me.  I used to think, "What's wrong?  Why are
they crying?  Who died?"  I figured I'd never
understand.  Then Clay sang You Were There.  Appleton
Wisconsin exactly a year and one day after the
American Idol Season 2 concert was the first time I
heard it.  Like in Chicago when I heard Invisible I
hadn't the faintest clue to the lyrics of this song,
but I stood there and watched...gaped, excuse me.

Clay never moved from his one spot, dressed in the
white suit I grew to love.  I closed my eyes and just
stood there...at peace.  More than a month later, Clay
came to Milwaukee for another show and of course I was
there.  This time, I had fifth row.  We were into the
second half of the show when the music I had heard
once before began.  I knew You Were There was coming
up.  People all in row suddenly began to sit and my
sister tugged on my arm.  I stared around at the group
of people surrounding; all sitting and restless leg
syndrome suddenly ran through me.  Clay's voice filled
the arena and I couldn't sit. 

I looked to my sister
and said, "I'm sorry...I have to stand."  So I did.
Everyone within ten rows behind me was sitting and
everyone before me was sitting...but I had to stand.
And in that moment, as Clay hit glory note after glory
note, it became too much.  And I cried.  I'd no idea
of the lyrics...but I loved that song.  People behind
me were probably cussing.  People somewhere probably
stared, but I didn't care.  I closed my eyes and let
the tears run down my face.  I was indifferent to
them. 

I now cry every time I hear that song. Not
because it's sad, not because I can totally relate to
what Clay has to say, but because I don't know why.  I
cry and I have no idea why I do it.  It's like love;
you don't know why you cry at concerts until you're
there, people cussing at you, people staring at you
with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding away.
I want to take that with me when I die. 

    I was not able to go to the Jukebox Tour.  The
closest show to me was Merrillville Indiana and I
could not persuade the parental units enough...try as
I may.  Thank the Lord for Internet, though...and Good
Morning America.  The Jukebox Tour started exactly on
July 28th 2005 (the end of the drought) and on July
29th, Clay was back in New York for the GMA Summer
Concert Series.  With a stride out in his tie-dye
button down and gray suit jacket, Clay started the
thudding off with an Elvis song, Suspicious Minds.
The rumor had spread like a fever on the forums that
he'd be performing a new song from his album that
really had no release date to date. 

Diane Sawyer put
those rumors to rest.  She called the song Coming Back
For More, but we all knew it as simply Back For More.
I sat there wide eyed at him.  Claymates had been
hoping for a more up beat song and like with
Invisible, I don't think anyone was disappointed.
News about this new song filled our message boards,
our threads, our e-mails...everything...from lyrics to
MP3's to videos to concerts Clay would be singing this
song at...we were in love with it.  It hadn't even
mattered that much to us that we only heard about ten
seconds of Invisible when he performed it...we were
probably already all over the web trying to find the
song somewhere. 

The song was new to me (to everyone,
actually) but it made me ecstatic.  I beamed
throughout the entire day, waiting anxiously for All
Things Clay Aiken to have some kind of snippet of it.
Finally they did and it was burned onto a CD faster
than you can say Gonzo.  I played the song to
everyone.  My friends came over and I blasted it at
them, showing it off to them.  I was threatened but it
played on.  The next days...weeks...I blasted it.
When driving around, no one could ever get a word out
of me, I was stuck in Clay Land where he was all over
the radio (the radio, the radio, the radio...) It
marked me as being different...insane maybe even. 

My
sister admitted to never being "as obsessed with
Hanson as you are with Clay."  It was both flattering
and...okay...I found it flattering.  Hearing that song
drove me to want to see the Jukebox Tour even more.  I
came up with plans no one had ever heard of to get us
to Merrillville, or any concert.  Amtrak’s, taxis, a
ferry trip across the Lake Michigan to the Clio
show...I even asked my sister how far away Toronto
was.  She was not entertained.  A week before the
Indiana show, I finally admitted defeat.  I could not
bust these people and there'd be no way I'd be seeing
Clay. 

 I did not go down without a fight.  But I did
fight for it.  I fought hard and am still picked on
for all my crazy ideas.  They were never crazy to me.
They were serious...an attempt to get me to see him,
to hear that song.  Back For More makes me think of
that...it fills me with both pride and defeat.  It's
bittersweet.  I want to take that with me when I die.

    I hope that some aspects of heaven (yes, I do plan to
go to heaven) are a lot like earth.  I hope it rains
sometimes, I hope there’s a light breeze at night, I
hope that even though we’re among the stars, we can
still see them, and I hope that I can fall asleep with
an ear phone in my ear.  Fields of Gold will be
playing…and not Sting’s version, but rather a cover
burned onto a makeshift album. 

Clay Aiken’s music has
touched, impacted, and beaten my life.  His unique
voice and unique self has brought many of heaven’s
aspects here, to earth.  I want to take that with me
when I die.  


 

 

 

"...people are like paintings.  When you come in contact with another human being, they dab a little color onto your soul.  It may not always be a color that you like but even ugliness has its lessons learned..."
-Mr. Clay Aiken-
Learning To Sing...