When I lived in Vienna, I was crazy in love with an American singer who was living and performing in Vienna at the time. Not just that he was an American guy, which was a very cool thing for me… I like Americans a lot. They are so
different to Europeans. They have self-esteem, they are… different, more easy, they speak about their feelings easily. But he was also of Italian origin. Which has unbelievable coolness in one person for me. And more… he was a singer. A good singer. An educated singer. I mean he still is, I hope. Twenty years ago I used to take solo- singing classes. I felt kind of… a singer. I was improving fast. I had two lessons or three lessons per week. I had one “concert” in a house of my then boyfriend. He was playing synth, I was singing…But then I moved to Vienna, where I did things which I didn’t like and I totally supressed myself. I never practiced singing anymore. Never did exercises. There were much more important things to do… Like “clearing the world”…

Anyway I met this beautiful American man, who was imitating Elvis and was singing other hits in Vienna at the end of the nineties. He was singing at the Center in Vienna and asking people to give money to support Scientology. His performance was professional, cause he was a profi. I was crazy in love. Not that I was in love, I was infatuated. I think that every fan and every stalker of somebody feels like that. I knew where he had concerts. I read all interviews and everything what was available about him. I went to all his concerts that were available at the time. And then I also signed up to the same course as him.
To some staff from Centrum it was clear that I was in love with him, since it was so obvious. I didn’t behave “normal” to him, but “nice”. But I couldn’t tell him that. I don’t know why. I was divorced at the time and he was divorced too. I behaved as a teenager in love.
Once I went to the theatre, where he had a performance. I was together with my daughter Iza, who was three years old. I didn’t have money for a ticket. I just went inside and put my daughter in the next seat. Then the inspector came to me and asked me if I had ticket. I said no, but I am a close friend of the artist and he would give me a free ticket. After the performance. So… me and my daughter enjoyed the performance which I knew by heart since he always had the same programme.
When it was over… he was signing his posters in the hall of the building. He was totally wiped out. I was embarrassed to tell him that I was there for free. I put my daughter on my shoulders and went as quickly as possible out of the building. I heard people talking from the American embassy, who were staying there that warm September night: “Oh, he is good, his Elvis is good”.
And eight years later my daughter Iza performed two musicals in the same theater.