I think the way you TOLD this story makes it more magical. "Just your everyday pop star with puke on her jacket."  Sitting here smiling, and definitely appreciating "Blackbird" a lot as a result. Thanks for sharing.

Well, I've been dying to share my Sarah story somewhere. RP is as good a place as any. My wife and I were flying to Tofino, B.C. for a winter holiday. The airport (really just a little strip of pavement surrounded by forest) was fogged in and our pilot told us we had to land on the other side of the mountain range. Sarah's flight had also been diverted; she was coming home after performing a tsunami relief concert in Calgary. She looked totally bagged, and had her young daughter with her. She spoke on her cell, telling her husband "I'll just rent a car and get there in a couple hours." "Hi, I'm David," I said to her. "My name's Sarah," she answered. Well, duh. I asked if we could share a vehicle with her and she was glad to. It meant she could sit in the back and tend to her daughter who got car sick on the twisty road. Just your everyday pop star with puke on her jacket. What if I accidentally drive off a cliff? I thought morbidly. That would make me the rock equivalent of Buddy Holly's pilot. Not something I've ever aspired to. We arrived at the "airport" where her husband was waiting for her. He walked towards Sarah, veered with a startled look towards my wife and gave HER a big hug. Turns out they'd gone to high school together. And there you go. Nothing dramatic. Not even any photographic proof to my friends who have cried "bullshit." But it's my favourite brush-with-fame story, made all the more wonderful for just how completely normal it all seemed.

Covering a Beatles tune is an ominous task (you know there will always be Beatles fans who say "it's not as good as the original!") but I think she does a good job. CSN often do a nice cover of Blackbird in their live shows; not sure if they've ever "officially" released a version.

I like this cover.

I don't normally care for Beatles covers, but I like this.  

yikes. not even close. let the original be.

Well, I've been dying to share my Sarah story somewhere. RP is as good a place as any.

...Nice clean pickin too. Better than MY version for sure.

Well, I've been dying to share my Sarah story somewhere. RP is as good a place as any.

My wife and I were flying to Tofino, B.C. for a winter holiday. The airport (really just a little strip of pavement surrounded by forest) was fogged in and our pilot told us we had to land on the other side of the mountain range.

Sarah's flight had also been diverted; she was coming home after performing a tsunami relief concert in Calgary. She looked totally bagged, and had her young daughter with her. She spoke on her cell, telling her husband "I'll just rent a car and get there in a couple hours."

"Hi, I'm David," I said to her. "My name's Sarah," she answered. Well, duh.

I asked if we could share a vehicle with her and she was glad to. It meant she could sit in the back and tend to her daughter who got car sick on the twisty road. Just your everyday pop star with puke on her jacket.

What if I accidentally drive off a cliff? I thought morbidly. That would make me the rock equivalent of Buddy Holly's pilot. Not something I've ever aspired to.

We arrived at the "airport" where her husband was waiting for her. He walked towards Sarah, veered with a startled look towards my wife and gave HER a big hug. Turns out they'd gone to high school together.

And there you go. Nothing dramatic. Not even any photographic proof to my friends who have cried "bullshit." But it's my favourite brush-with-fame story, made all the more wonderful for just how completely normal it all seemed.

Well, I've been dying to share my Sarah story somewhere. RP is as good a place as any.

Well, I've been dying to share my Sarah story somewhere. RP is as good a place as any.

My wife and I were flying to Tofino, B.C. for a winter holiday. The airport (really just a little strip of pavement surrounded by forest) was fogged in and our pilot told us we had to land on the other side of the mountain range.

Sarah's flight had also been diverted; she was coming home after performing a tsunami relief concert in Calgary. She looked totally bagged, and had her young daughter with her. She spoke on her cell, telling her husband "I'll just rent a car and get there in a couple hours."

"Hi, I'm David," I said to her. "My name's Sarah," she answered. Well, duh.

I asked if we could share a vehicle with her and she was glad to. It meant she could sit in the back and tend to her daughter who got car sick on the twisty road. Just your everyday pop star with puke on her jacket.

What if I accidentally drive off a cliff? I thought morbidly. That would make me the rock equivalent of Buddy Holly's pilot. Not something I've ever aspired to.

We arrived at the "airport" where her husband was waiting for her. He walked towards Sarah, veered with a startled look towards my wife and gave HER a big hug. Turns out they'd gone to high school together.

And there you go. Nothing dramatic. Not even any photographic proof to my friends who have cried "bullshit." But it's my favourite brush-with-fame story, made all the more wonderful for just how completely normal it all seemed.