((Brian's Note: Karla Brown and I are friends, though I don't think I have ever once seen her in person. She and I have both worked in Sioux Falls for a long time and know each other as a result. We are also networked together on LinkedIN and Facebook. Karla has hosted the midday show on Mix 97-3 radio in Sioux Falls for nearly 14 years. She is a graduate of Southwest State University in Marshall, Minnesota and is originally from Wagner, South Dakota.))

When Brian asked me to blog for him, I panicked!  What on earth could I blog about that other people would find interesting?  My Brownie Blog on the Mix 97-3 website is usually about American Idol or Desperate Housewives.  I’m no professor of politics.  I know world hunger is a problem and terrorism is a daily threat, but I don’t know enough to blog about either of those things.  I’m not a world traveler.  The farthest I’ve been from South Dakota is Loveland, Colorado .  It’s a nice city, but it’s no Paris or Cairo .  I could kick anyone’s butt in a Seinfeld trivia contest, even a Brady Bunch trivia contest, but that doesn’t really translate to a blog entry.  I’ve led an uneventful life.  Some might even call it boring.  Then, on the night of August 22, 2008, my boring life suddenly got interesting. 

Let’s revisit 1982.  I was twelve years old.  I had a huge poster of Rick Springfield on the back of my bedroom door, the one where he’s wearing the white shirt.  I bought every issue of Teen Beat and Bop magazine, cut out pictures of Rick and pinned them to a bulletin board that hung on my wall.  Rick was my first “love.”  I listened to the Working Class Dog album non-stop.  A few years later I read in one of my teen magazines he was married!  I was heart-broken, devastated.  It was worse than the day my Holly Hobbie purse got stuck under the washing machine agitator.  The next morning, I tossed Rick to the curb.  I took down the poster, rolled it up and stuffed it away in my closet.  His pictures came down and were eventually replaced with Kirk Cameron’s.  Even though Rick broke my heart, I stuck with him through the years, even being one of the few to buy his Karma CD.  I was a die-hard fan.

One of the perks of being in radio is from time to time, you get to interview a star.  In 1999, a dream came true.  I interviewed Rick Springfield.  After the interview, I asked for an autographed picture.  He even took down my address.  Apparently, the picture got lost in the mail.  Still, I stuck with him.  I even watched Dr. Noah Drake’s return to General Hospital in 2005. 

Then, one Friday night while I was watching Diners, Drive-ins and Dives on Food Network, I got a text from my friend that said “Rick Springfield… Corn Palace .” It was finally happening.  I was going to see Rick Springfield in concert!  In all my thirty-eight years, I had never seen him live.  We had seventh row center seats.  The show started and it was like I was twelve again.  Screaming and yes, crying, like a little girl.  It was just as I had imagined.  About three-fourths of the way through the show, Rick came into the crowd playing his guitar, walking over chairs.  He came right to us!  He stood on the chair in front of us.  Then, he took my camera and used it like it was his guitar pick.  MY CAMERA!  Somebody pinch me.  Was this really happening?  I stood there with my hands on my head and tears in my eyes.  You would’ve thought Jim Morrison had come back from the dead to play the Corn Palace . 

Later that night, we went to the Ramada Hotel bar because we had heard Rick was staying at the hotel.  What were the odds we’d see him?  I’m the unluckiest person you’ll ever meet, but the cards had been stacked in my favor all night.  We walk into the bar and there he is!  He was sitting at a table eating pizza and drinking a beer.  My knees got weak.  I almost fainted.  I had NO idea we’d see him.  If I had, I would’ve at least combed my hair and put on some lipstick!  Eventually, I talked to him and told him I was still waiting for that autographed picture.  He autographed my Working Class Dog album jacket and we took several pictures with him.  

Even though he’s broken my heart several times over the past 26 years, he made up for all of that, August 22, when suddenly, my life wasn’t so boring anymore.  

((Brian's Note: For being so worried, Karla told a fantastic story about how hidden dreams can come true again. This was really a cool article. Feel free to leave a comment below or send me an e-mail by clicking here.))