So this happened.

The woman on the right is Pippi; I met her in the bathroom before the set began. Pippi is incredible and we clicked right away. It turns out she’s friends with Todd’s wife, as well as a lot of other Capital F Fans. After the set (all jazz versions of his greatest hits with the amazing Les Paul Trio) she introduced me to Doug, who runs Rundgren Radio. Doug apparently knew that the backstage door was push not pull, and so Pippi turned to me and said “wanna meet Todd?”

*Gulp.*

Pippi dragged me across the room after Doug as I frantically signaled “Back in five minutes!” to J on the other side of the bar. (J was not all on his lonesome, but rather talking to young Christian from Oxford, who works with ducks and other water fowl.)

And then, you guys. You guys! I met Todd Rundgren.

So what did I say to him? I summoned up everything I had in me to find something intelligent to say, something beautiful, to wax poetic about his career, to tell him what it felt like when I first heard Faithful, to find just the right words deserving of this very sacred moment. Then my mouth opened and:

“He smells so GOOD.”

(By this point, J had found the super-secret stage door and had come back to make sure I hadn’t fainted. He took these pictures, and had the very best one taken of himself.)

It was a classy moment all around. “We need more cleavage!” someone shouted from the back of the room as this photograph was being taken. So I said “Yeah, come on Todd!” and yanked at the collar of his shirt.

And props to the Iridium Jazz Club - not only was the bartender super friendly and helpful with the pour for those of us stuck at the back, but they gave me free tickets to tonight’s show at the Gramercy Theater.

When I told Todd I’d see him the next night, he said “But there won’t be any JAZZZZZZZ!”

You guys, I think I may have petted his hair.