True story
Air France flight, LAX to Ireland, just a few weeks ago.
Taxi-ing on the runway. time to turn off my iPhone5 and Google Nexus 7
A tall pale gothic man sitting next to me. I can feel his eyes on me.
I try sending deep unspoken messages that he ought not try to talk to me.
These kinds of messages never seem to work.
"I wrote a song about you," he says.
As an opening line, it was at least one I hadn't heard before.
I wanted to ask how long it had been since he had been out in the sun. I wanted to ask him about his accent, which was Scandinavian. Deep, baritone voice. Instead, I opt for discouraging him.
Me: I'm sorry. Are we having a conversation?
Him: Red
Me: Excuse me?
Him: Red. That's the name of the song.
Me: Ah...
Him: (actually singing...oh dear) Don't say you need me. It's too late, I cannot stay.
Me: (speechless)
Him: That was a lyric. I was humming it in my head, and you sat down next to me.
Me: (Still speechless) Kind of just staring at him with my mouth open, nothing coming out, which is rare for me.
Him: You're a redhead.
Me: Wow, you're sharp. Was my hair the giveaway?
Him: Jyrki
Me: Jerky? What?
Him: Well, no J-y-r-k-i 69
Me: (back to speechless...I mean WTF?)
Him: (extends a very large pale hand and what seems to be a very sincere smile) It's my name. Actually, it's Jyrki Pekka Emil Linnankivi, but the other is much easier. Stage name. Band name.
Me: (I shake his hand, cautiously) Veronica.
Him: Hello Red Veronica. It is a pleasure to meet you.
Tire skidmarks on the runway beneath the plane stream past, become a blur. A slight lurch and we are airborne. Silence, until we are leveling off and cruising. Jyrki brings out his tablet. Offers it to me.
Him: My band, the 69 Eyes. Our website.
And it's him. Really him. And 'Red,' he says, is his group's biggest hit in Finland. They were going to be on a new European tour, in January.
He's not really flirting very much. He hasn't said anything rude, and he seemed a bit lonely, so I let him talk to me. mostly, I just listened.
Me: First.
Him: Excuse me?
Me: You're my first.
Him: You're first...rock star?
Me: Yes.
Asks me where I'm going. To Ireland, where my family is from, to see a small house in Kinsale, a little fishing village in County Cork, just off the Celtic Sea, where I have inherited a home.
Him: Are you going to live there?
Me: We might...my husband and I and my son, if they like it enough.
Him: It's an adventure (smiling)
Me: Yes. Yes, I suppose it is.
Flight time is 13 hours, over which time I hear about everything there is to know about The 69 Eyes Finnish Gothic Rock band.
Was this really him? No way for me to know, but if it wasn't, he certainly had his imitation down...
"Dance with me into the night
To the Serious moonlight
Brighter than the stars above, you shine"