Who Adores Bono?

[justliketink]

Alright, I admit it, if Bono sings it, I get weak in the knees! Anyone else?

 

[Alice's Mom]

I adore Bono, for everything he does!

 

[Michelle2]

ME ME ME ME ME ME!!!!
If anyone asked a celebrity crush I have, BONO is always tops on MY LIST!!!! I am absolutely GAGA for him....I also love his talent as an artist as well--I think he is mega=talented! Glad to know I am not alone, my sisters think I am weird!

 

[Planogirl]

I'm a big fan of his and have been for years. He seems so nice and centered too.

 

[justliketink]

Okay ready for this? I am one of the moms....

FOUR MOMS GET CREATIVE IN TRACKING DOWN U2

I have loved the band U2 since I was a young teen. When I heard they were playing in the Bay Area, I dragged myself out to a local Ticketmaster at 4 a.m. just to purchase tickets. I had no trouble justifying that we were spending our summer vacation funds on some scruffy Irish rockers. But when do you know you've crossed the line from fan to stalker?

For me, it was Saturday night, after the U2 concert in San Jose. There were 10 of us, five couples who traveled from Walnut Creek to see the concert and stay the night.
After the concert, still electrified by the music, we returned to our hotel.

One of the husbands, George, who is a musician, hijacked the piano in the lobby bar and began playing "Sympathy for the Devil" and "Rocket Man." It was a good 15 minutes before management shut him down, despite the fact that the crowd was really into it. As we were still laughing at each other, word came in that the band was staying at the same hotel. It was the opportunity of a lifetime for four of us slightly inebriated soccer moms let loose in a hotel without kids for the evening.

Suddenly we had a mission. A well-placed source told us U2 was dining in the hotel's restaurant. It was closed to all other patrons, but that didn't stop us. What's the worst that could happen? Get kicked out? Get arrested?

Our first tactic was to simply walk up to the restaurant and try to get in. It was obvious that we were not a part of the private party. We didn't get beyond the three beefy guys in front of the entrance. Strike one.

We decided to try another tack: We would look for their rooms. We deduced that they were staying on the 20th floor, since the hotel staff was not letting anyone without VIP credentials get off the elevator there.

We found our way to the service elevator where no special key was needed to get onto the 20th floor. We crossed our fingers hoping that security wasn't going to meet us at the elevator door as we exited.

Security wasn't there, but neither was anyone else. The floor was deserted. Strike two.

We headed back downstairs and walked to the outside entrance of the restaurant where the band was dining.

Inspiration hit and we knocked on the door. One of the guests opened the door a crack and asked us what we wanted. My friends Shellie and Kristen said we had been told to go outside to smoke and that we wanted to return to the Two of us actually made it in. Home run. The other two were too shocked at our good fortune to budge.

Pam and I walked over to a booth and sat down as if we belonged there. A few minutes later, Pam tried to let the other two in, but was foiled by a burley security guard who followed her out and sent the three of them on their way.

I was alone at the bar. I couldn't see into the dining room, yet I knew that U2 was somewhere within. So close. I was about to get up and check on my friends when drummer Larry Mullen Jr. calmly walked over to the bar, ordered a beer and started to talk to a young blond girl (not me, unfortunately) while awaiting his order. I sat there trying to keep my tongue from lolling out of my mouth.

Kristen had a guard find me, saying that she was my assistant from Maxim magazine and that we needed to finish an interview. I went along with the ruse -- the guard didn't -- and I reluctantly left the bar. So much for my close encounter.

By this time it was nearly 3 a.m. Two of our friends headed up to bed, but Kristen and I were committed (cue "Mission: Impossible" music). We took our old route via the service elevator up to the 20th floor. We started to listen at each doorway to see if we could hear anyone talking inside with an Irish accent.

We knew it was a sophomoric plan at best, but we were giddy.

Kristen went poking around and got caught by a U2 security guard who escorted us down to the lobby (no handcuffs, thank God). Undeterred, we went around to the guest elevators to see if we could come up with another plan.

Then, to our utter astonishment, Bono himself walked by on his way up to his room. We froze, but our night was complete.

However, little did we know that as we were on the 20th floor stalking their rooms, Bono and the Edge were hanging out in the same hotel lounge that started our adventure earlier that evening, near the lobby piano.

We had a blast! After all, it's the journey and not the destination. Or maybe it was just a little Vertigo.

Oh, the power of Bono...Seemingly innocent suburban mothers did their best to get up close and personal with U2. (AP)

 

[southernbella]

Sigh...Bono...can't say much...DH reads the boards...Bono...mmmmmm