Jemaine, Jemaine, Jemaine.
He was truly a wonder. Lovelier than a bucket full of kittens, funnier than an amusingly-shaped parsnip, more patient than........well, a very patient......thing
. Because Bret had left early, the bulk of fan-wrangling was left to Big J, and he did a stonkingly great job of it. (As an aside, I also want to say that I thought the security people at Massey Hall did a terrific job without being assholes. I spoke with the fellow who was charged with looking after the Conchords â€“ Iâ€™d lost something â€“ and he honestly couldnâ€™t have been more of a gent. Such a nice chap.)
By this point, the crowd was thinning out a bit, and I was determined to get Amanda to Jemaine before he disappeared like Bret. So I grabbed her hand, and started edging in a little closer. Jemaine was taking pictures with two girls on either side of him. He was looking a bit stiff, and I noticed one of the security guys discreetly pushing the flexible, airport-style barrier against the girls, trying to move them back. I couldnâ€™t really see what was going on, but when Jemaine had moved on to someone else, the girls came up to us, holding their hands out palms up, and grinning away. One of them declared proudly, â€œThis is the hand that just cupped Jemaineâ€™s ass. I made sure to get a really good feel.â€ I think they expected us to be greatly impressed. Weasels. I put on my very best â€œOH REALLY?
?â€ face, and headed in the opposite direction. Itâ€™s crap like that that really makes me angry. YOU DONâ€™T TOUCH PEOPLE INAPPROPRIATELY. (Not yelling at you lovely people, just shouting into the wind.) As a possessor of two X chromosomes and a formidable rack, I know how infuriating it is to lose bodily autonomy to people who canâ€™t keep their goddamn hands to themselves. But as a girl, I have social permission to tell anyone who tries that funny business to stick it up their arse. For Jemaine, who is a big fellow, it must be almost impossible to get women to stop grabbing at him without losing face, or looking petulant. You know? I genuinely felt badly for the guy.
Anyway, I could tell Amanda was feeling colossally, vibratingly overwhelmed, so I just held her hand tightly, manoeuvred her into Jemaineâ€™s penumbra, and let her go. Iâ€™ll let her tell that story herself, but Iâ€™ll just say that itâ€™s a goodie. Heâ€™s a total sweetheart. I hope she posts it soon. And her pictures are gorgeous
While I had Jemaine in my eye line, I pulled out my copy of the Folk the World Tour CD, and asked if heâ€™d sign it for me. He did, very graciously and carefully, with a little flourish, and when he was finished I said a bit bashfully, â€œDo you think it would be all right if I got a photo with you?â€ He said, â€œOf course!â€, and then, as Amanda and Bibli were organising the cameras, he asked me where I was from. I said â€œEngland! London! Why? Do I not sound like Iâ€™m North-American?â€ And he laughed at me and said, â€œNo, I could tell by your politeness.â€ And I
grinned back and asked, â€œHave you encountered a fair bit of.....not-politeness in your travels?â€ And he said, â€œOh yes.â€ And then, backtracking awkwardly, â€œI mean......ah....I shouldnâ€™t say.....â€ And I said, â€œI quite
understand it would be impolitic to say.â€ And then Jemaine laughed so the corners of his eyes crinkled up, and said, â€œIn the picture, Iâ€™m going to pretend youâ€™ve just said something really rude, okay? Look innocent.â€ So I did, and he did. And then I thanked him, and he very, very generously shook his head, and said quite seriously, â€œNo, thank you
.â€ And then he was pulled off in another direction, and I let him go. And I savoured the moment, because, you know, itâ€™s not every day you get told you have amiable manners by Jemaine Clement. My mum would be proud.