BONO

we had our faces rocked off...


and we liked it!


it's been three days and i still can't believe that i met bono. we went to the sound check the day before the concert and were totally excited to hear him practice, his voice echoing through soldier field and into the city of chicago. maybe if we waited long enough, we could see his silhouette through a tinted window of the SUV that drove him away after sound check. perhaps bono would crack the window and throw us a peace sign. i hoped.

after 3 hours of waiting on the hope that we might catch a glimpse, out drives bono's car, pulls to a stop in front of our group of about 50 avid fans, and he emerges. i can't see him or hear him over the squeals of the crowd. i leap onto the curb and lean over the waist-high fence. 'do you see him', my friend katie asks? 'i see the side of his head, his ear! oh my gosh, i see bono's ear!' where's my camera? where's my pen and paper? i have nothing but a black sweatshirt...no good for a sharpie signature.



slowly, bono makes his way closer and stops right next to me and katie to speak with 'tattoo ian'. bono addresses him by name, 'hello ian,' he says, who, we would find out later, has been on stage 7 times with bono. ian begins showing this rock star his tattoos on both arms, bono's drawings from pevious meetings, where ian then went and had them permanently etched on his skin. 'your body is my canvas', bono exclaims with a smile, and in that most sexy, irish accent,(sorry bryan...you're the only one for me)!

then bono moves on from ian to katie who is immediately to my left. she outstretches her arm, wearing the right color sweatshirt, gray, and asks, 'will you sign my sleeve?' bono looks her in the eye. i seize onto katie's arm, unable to believe who it is that is standing in front of me. he clasps her shirt and begins to sign his name, his hand one inch from mine. i refused to touch him...how creepy would i look? i did the only thing i could think of...i held out the palm of my hand like a sheet of paper for him to sign. he moved on from katie, looked at my outstretched hand, looked in my eyes, pitied my oddness, and moved on. OH!

the girl directly to my right was also in our group of friends. libby will forever be etched in my mind as the one who had the wherewithal to ask, 'would it be inappropriate if i asked for a hug?' bono says, 'what an outrageous demand', with a big smile and proceeds to hug libby, who is now my arch-enemy. just kidding, libs. i think you're amazing. i almost threw my arms around the two of them for a group hug but i thought the body guard might remove me from the premises. i simply tried to take it all in. shortly after signing a few more autographs, bono humbly apologizes that he has to go. he gets into his car, rolls the window all the way down, waves goodbye, and says, 'thank you!' what a man.

larry took off in the car right behind bono, not stopping to sign autographs.
next came adam clayton. signing autographs and then he was off.

last came The Edge. he shook almost everyone's hand. i had more sense about me by now and i lifted up my sweatshirt revealing my red shirt underneath. i stretched it toward him and asked, 'will you sign my shirt', and i politely smiled. he looked me in the eyes and paused as if to say, 'seriously? you don't have any paper', and he signed it. ah. i'll never wash that shirt again.



after two hours of sleep, we returned to the stadium the following morning to wait in line with thousands of other people. we made it early enough to only be behind 3-400 people, securing us a spot in the inner ring. 14.5 hours later we were jumping up and down and singing at the top of our lungs with U2. surreal. amazing.