The Story of How I Met Roger Daltrey and How Little it Meant To Me At The Time

The story begins in Los Angeles, where most stories begin, unless they begin somewhere else.

I was on vacation with THE EX (bum bum BUUUUM) and we got tickets to see his pal, Eddie, in My Fair Lady at The Hollywood Bowl (whoa what up name dropper). The show starred, you guessed it, The Who's Roger Daltrey as Alfred P. Doolittle. Now at the time... yes, I knew who he was and, like, I totally knew the some of the The Who the songs. "Whooooo are you. Who ooh. Ooh ooh." But fuck if I cared that he was in the show. I said it. Seeing Roger Daltrey on stage meant about as much to me as a puppy watching a man re-grow his hands. And that's fuckin' hard.

I'm getting off track.

Roger Daltrey.

Right.

After the show ended we went back stage and I met THE Roger Daltrey. He said my name. He shook my hand. He was quite charming, quite British and feigned interest in meeting me quite well. And yes he was short. And after we met he drove away in a Mini Cooper.

I went to LA last week and while I was there I DROVE A MINI COOPER, TOO.

I'm just saying, guys. Life is weird.

And I'm an asshole for not being more excited about meeting Roger Daltrey.

Love,

Glennis