In Anticipation of the General Hospital Fan Luncheon…

By

Carolyn Aspenson 

Today is Tuesday, August 19, 2003. I’m writing because I’m leaving on Thursday morning for the ‘big event’ and I’ve got mixed emotions. Writing always makes me feel better.  I’m leaving a day earlier than everyone else because I’ve got to fly from Atlanta and being the opposite end of the country, it’s typically an all day event. Don’t tell my husband, but I’m also leaving early so I have some private time, something I don’t get a lot of at home.  

I’m cautiously excited about going to this shin-dig. Cautiously excited. I’m sure I’d be more excited if I weren’t truly and horribly embarrassed about going. Yesterday I went to have coffee with a new friend from my health club after sweating like a pig. She mentioned that she’s going to NYC to hang out with her best friend since, forever for the weekend. I covered my mouth, turned my head to the side and mumbled “I’m going to a General Hospital fan event in Los Angeles with a few women that I’ve got to know over the internet but never physically met.” How embarrassing!   She made me feel much better by saying happy words and making positive grunting sounds, etc. But I’m still horrified. If someone told me they were doing this I’d snicker and say “PSYCHO” to myself. So I guess I expect the same thing.  

I’m not one to get autographs, coo over someone famous (in their face that is. Behind their back is a whole ‘nother story!) or act all giddy because they’re on TV. I’m much too mature and stuck up for that. Or so I’d like to think. I guess I’ll find out in a few days though, won’t I?  

A few years ago I sat on a plane for 5 hours with Liz Vassey, otherwise known to those who remember, as Emily Ann from All My Children. I looked at her sitting across the isle from me and thought “Hmmm. I’m pretty sure that’s her. But her hair is straight. How do I find out without sounding like an idiot?” I tried very hard to not stare. But it’s hard! Mostly because I wanted confirmation, not because I’m a nutcase. We were talking about the plane and why we had to sit on board for so long due to problems, etc. and finally I said, “Okay, it’s driving me nuts. Are you who I think you are?” She smiled and said yes. I realize she was on the silly show with that Joey kid who worked as a mechanic or something. I can’t remember the name but I know my kids used to watch it on the Disney channel. So I said something about that show to her but that I knew her mostly from AMC. Then, being all coy and intelligent, like I try to think I am, I said “When did you get out of the mental institution? Or, wait. Were you not officially released?” She cracked up so I guess I was funny.  Phew. Thankfully she’s female and I really wasn’t trying to impress her. Too much at least. Needless to say, we talked the whole 6.5 hours we sat on that plane, including flight time. She was very nice and now when I see her on anything I silently root for her to have a successful career.  

Several years prior to that when I was a mere 20 year old college kid, I had backstage passes to a Journey concert. Now, if you are a late 70’s or 80’s child, you will remember Steve Perry and his incredibly sexy voice. Think ‘Open Arms’. I had the biggest crush on that guy! I firmly believed that when I met him backstage he would instantaneously fall head over heels for me and we’d live happily ever after, 20 year age difference aside. I had planned many witty, clever and mature comments to say at our introduction. Things that no man could ever, would ever walk away from without regretting it for eternity. My actual comment “I love your music. Tee hee hee!” was NOT one of those witty, clever comments.  

That moment stands as one of my most regretful moments in life.  

I could have had it all. All Steve Perry, all the time. He could have sang me to sleep at night, serenaded me at dinner; while I washed his clothes; mowed the lawn; shopped at Walmart. But no. That is not my world. I had to say something so infantile he probably still laughs at it today! 

This my friends, will NOT happen when I meet Ted King.  I have a plan.  

The weekend prior to school starting we took our kids to Helen, GA for a last weekend of summer ‘hurrah’. The first evening we were there my husband took the kids to the hotel pool while I flipped through the channels on the TV. I came across HBO, a channel to which we don’t subscribe. Low and behold, Mr. Ted King himself was gracing the screen during an episode of Sex in the City. How excited was I? I watched him on Charmed and was devastated when they killed his character. Then I watched him on GH and again, dead. So now he’s back and I’m thrilled but this added extra was so great I couldn’t not watch.  

I’m not a fan of Sex in the City.  I have become far too conservative for that type of TV but with Ted King on it, I had no say in the matter. My libido took over. Have you seen that episode? He’s dating the Kim Cantrell character, Samatha. Apparently after a night of sex, they’re both in the bathroom and he blatantly tells her to shave in a certain area. She is flabbergasted at such a comment and of course stews over it the rest of the episode. Just at the end, when they kind of sum up each characters story for that episode they show her and Ted King again. He is BUTT NAKED, literally (and has quite a nice backside, I must admit!) and she is shaving him in the frontal area, just between his legs. His comment was “Wow! It really does make my dick look bigger!”  

So you know what I’m going to say to him, don’t you?  

Do you think I can pull it off? Sound coy and funny while attempting to not laugh myself into tears of humor and embarrassment? All the while looking cool and hip, not like a 36 year old mother of 3?  

“So, Ted. Does it really look bigger when you shave?”  

My husband thinks I’ll do it. He’s known me long enough to know that if I am in just the right mood I can say anything without any fear or embarrassment or regret. Of course, this is TED KING we’re talking about here! It’s not my husband’s ex-wife who deserves a big slap on the face and a nasty comment or two. It’s not the guy at Jiffy Lube who didn’t fill my washer fluid like he was supposed to. It’s TED KING!  

I’m starting to sweat just thinking about it.  

I’ll make sure to report to Sherry every single detail of my experience at the event and will write a huge column when I come back. Unless of course, I run off with Ted King. Then you’ll just have to imagine the possibilities.  J

[Note from Katrina:  Don't worry, Kathy Hardeman and I have her handled]