Some who know me well would say my entire reason for heading "Alberta bound" from my warm, Ontario home was secretly so I could stalk and meet my not-so-secret country crush: Paul Brandt.
Some who know me well would say my entire reason for heading "Alberta bound" from my warm, Ontario home was secretly so I could stalk and meet my not-so-secret country crush: Paul Brandt.
I say "not-so-secret" because my stalking tendencies have been embarrassingly forward, right down to naming my car after him - ironically enough, the car I drove "Alberta bound" from Ontario a few years ago.
And just last week, my goal was met: I not only got to meet Paul Brandt in person but I also got to interview him.
As I waited in the UFA store in St. Paul to meet my tall, dark and handsome country obsession, I began to feel a little light-headed. I quickly jotted down some questions in case my mind went blank and went over them with editor Melissa Barr in case I fainted or was stricken silent after hearing his deep, country voice.
After the interview, Melissa insisted I have my picture taken with Paul, despite him being behind schedule. Thank goodness for that, because as everyone knows, if there's no photographic proof on facebook then it never happened.
But of course, leave it to Melissa to tell Paul I've named my car after him.
"That's great, but don't tell me it's an old beater car," he smiled, putting his arm around me for a picture.
I grew ten shades of an even brighter red and replied, "Actually, it is." Awesome. Paul thinks I named my crappy car after him because he thinks I consider it to resemble him or his music - so not true!
A little mortified but mostly giddy and excited, I left the store and texted the news to everyone I know because, as they all know, my obsession with Paul Brandt goes back much further than my three-years since owning my car.
My real obsession began in 2007 when I attended a Paul Brandt concert in Brantford Ont., with my friend, Kelsey, who was equally as obsessed with Paul Brandt.
We wore glowing shirts with the letters "P-A-U-L," myself being the "A." On his second song, "Alberta Bound" he laughed when he spotted his name glowing in the audience. He pointed to the four of us, allowing us to sing the second line to him: "Ian Tyson sang a lonesome lullaby." Another life goal met.
And only a fan as great as myself can say they've seen Paul Brandt in person both in "BRANT"ford and St. "PAUL."
About three years after that, I qualified for Paul's "Cambodia Bound" contest. Here, he was the stalker, not me.
This was about the same time I started dating my now boyfriend, Chris, who Kelsey had never met. A man called our apartment, she answered and handed me the phone:
"Ashley, I don't know who's on the phone for you but he has a really sexy voice! Good job," she said.
Smug, thinking it was Chris, I answered the phone with a voice I thought would be equally as sexy.
"Hello, Ashley, it's Paul Brandt," I heard in reply.
I flushed colours of red I didn't even know existed. I began to sweat and was short of breath. I ran to tell Kelsey the news, but of course, she didn't believe me.
Unfortunately, I didn't win the contest. It may have had something to do with almost fainting while talking on the phone with him.
That year, I wrote an 85-page thesis for school, which consisted primarily of Paul Brandt. Of course, it didn't take much research since I already know all there is to know about Paul's music.
And of course, any friend of Paul Brandt's is a friend of mine. When he took the country trio High Valley under his wing, I began to stalk them too - right down to living in the same town they grew up in: La Crete.
Putting this all to paper makes me wonder whether Paul Brandt will put a restraining order on me or whether I should hang my head in shame and drive my run-down car back to Ontario.
But that's only likely to happen when Paul Brandt is scheduled to play in Ontario again.
