[singpilot]

Gawd, you got me started.

When I lived in Minneapolis (for 7 winters), I was the pilot for a very public figure in that town. The man that ran the NHL team; very high vis. One of my many duties (besides flying him and the team) was to run the Arena on game night. I didn't really run the thing, but I was who anyone came to instead of the owner.. he didn't want to be bothered with 'petty details'. One of the most onerous tasks was deciding which 'VIP's would get the primo private box seats, or even a suite. And, of course, all of those carefully calculated arrangements change instantly on game night.

In Minneapolis, there was a female talk-show hostess who had a very opinionated late afternoon show. ("It's my show, I can do what I want"). Anyone that lives there knows who that is (or was, if she's not still there). A 50,000-watt AM station... six states on a bad day.

We met after she had commented on-air that she could not get into the sold-out arena for a game the night before. I called the station, and invited her (off-air) and a guest to the next game. She accepted. She came alone, I had given her the choice of on-ice seats, or a box in the rich-and-famous section. She chose the on-ice set. I went down there from time to time to see how she was doing (she was loving it) and to make sure the waiters got her whatever she needed, comp'ed.

After the game, she found me, and we went out for a drink, and dinner. She was gorgeous, not the usual Minnesota nice, not the usual blonde, blue-eyed, nordic look (also unusual) that Minneapolis is overrun with. We hit it off big time. She was pretty good about keeping her private life off of the air, but as we progressed, more and more of it made it into on-air comments. I was never identified by other than my first name. I didn't object, I was usually trying to tone her down a little. I would always joke that I had to mind my P's and Q's, or be pilloried the next day on-air. She would smirk, but never deny that possibility. Can you imagine pissing someone off that had that power? The only really personal things that had ever made it on were good (so far).

No one at my work knew it was me, but her love of the game grew to the point that she would discuss it on-air the next day. Her show was growing in popularity, and she had been picked up in several other markets. The girls in my boss' office were always laughing about her telling idiots off on the call-in part of her show, about how that poor SOB Michael that lived with her must really be a sorry case. My boss asked me to find out where she was in the arena, and invite her to his suite for a 'chat'.

I brought her to his suite between the first two periods, and she actually did pretty well (not offending anyone). The light bulbs over everyone's head suddenly went off, she took my arm, blushed, smiled, and the entire suite broke out in applause. I escorted her back to her seat (my season seats, actually). After that, the gig was up. We were together for almost a year, until her ex re-appeared on the scene, and she wanted to give that a try again. She did an on-air series on second chances for a few days, but I couldn't listen, it was way too poignant at that point. I was told that the call-ins ran 3 to 1 against giving him a second chance. I moved away shortly after (as did the team), and we have not talked since.

We discovered what a PITA being a celeb (even in a small market) was. She has a very distinctive voice, and as soon as she opened her mouth anywhere, things would change as soon as people recognized the voice. There were very few pictures of her anywhere, and she regularly got death threats. That didn't bother me, I knew most of the threats were from displaced democrats (that is a joke, guys), but the ones we worried about were the wackos that knew of her passion for cats. Dead cats were always appearing in the station parking lots wearing hate-laced messages. She always took those hard, even a right wing personality has a heart sometimes (another joke, guys).

I suspect she is still hot as well. She wore the pants in public and on air, but hated wearing them in private. Under the sweaters and coats required of Minnesota winters, there was a Chicago born and bred hottie. As hot as they get.