Close encounters of the Jovi kind

It happens in this business, writes Debbie Bennett. You periodically get to interview rock stars.

You get that bit closer than the fans which at first is terribly exciting, until you have to dream up a batch of amazing questions that no-one else in the universe has ever asked.

Knowing I'm a bit of a rock chick, the boss has just forwarded me an email inviting the Express & Star to take part in a Bon Jovi "conference call".

Not a situation I'm familiar with but what the heck. It's Bon Jovi, for goodness sake!

However, on closer inspection, it is clear you get just one question, which you ask the operator, then the operator asks the band.

At this point I dismiss the idea of phoning my best mate Vic for "the" question. What she doesn't know about Bon Jovi isn't worth knowing.

But I won't actually be speaking to the band, ­ and singer Jon Bon Jovi won't be in the conference anyway, for some reason.

I¹ve written my question on a piece of paper word for word just to be safe and I'm dialling the number given.

I give the polite US lady my name and publication.

"Sorry . . . did you say Debbie Hampton?" she asks. God bless America.

"No, it's Debbie Bennett and I'm calling from Wolverhampton."

She has obviously been programmed to only hear the first and last word of a sentence.

I'm placed in a queue and there's time to ponder over my previous Bon Jovi experiences.

The first was 20-odd years ago and a friend had tickets to see the New Jersey rockers at a theatre in Leicester for their Slippery When Wet tour.

This was the 80s. We were clones of our pop heroes and suffered skin tight jeans, big poodle hair and lip gloss. And that was just the men.

My friend, whose hairstyle was identical to Jon Bon Jovi's and sported 3-inch gold lamé stilletos, had managed to wangle back-stage passes which we were to pick up after the gig.

Two hours later we were huddled outside by the stage door with 20 or so other hopefuls.

After waiting for what seemed a lifetime, it was becoming clear something was not quite right. A little disturbance a few yards away interrupted our chatter and we saw five shadowy figures with big hair run out of a different exit and dive straight on to their tour bus.

The feeling of dismay stays with me. The bus sailed past and five sets of unnaturally white teeth beamed at our shivering posse through the tinted glass. They waved smugly and were gone.

My second Bon Jovi experience was 20 years later and much more enjoyable. It was the New Jersey band's Bounce tour and they played at the Wolves ground, where my pal Vic had got us pretty good seats.

Officials were mingling through the crowd randomly handing out gold wrist bands which allowed batches of 15 or so fans at a time to spend 10 precious minutes at the side of the stage just feet away from their idols.

And I got one.

In a few minutes of heart-stopping euphoria we were led right up to the stage and witnessed the adoring masses from the band's viewpoint and got to gaze at guitarist Richie Sambora's bum, which was very nice.

I'm brought back to reality with the message that the conference is almost ready and I can ask the band a couple of questions followed by more at the end if there's time.

Hang on, ­ ask the band?

More than one question?

By now, my reasonable state of calm has turned to complete panic and I can hear Richie Sambora, David Bryan and Tico Torres chatting amongst themselves.

Deep breaths. I've got a few seconds to try and calm down while a young Manchester reporter chats to the band. Then it's my turn.

"Hi guys," I squeak. I ask them if they would ever consider playing at more intimate venues again rather than just the stadiums. "I mean, size isn't everything," I cliché nervously.

I'm so befuddled I only hear half the answer. I am obviously programmed to only hear the first and last word of a sentence.

Fortunately, the conference is recorded so I'm able to relive the whole experience and catch their response.

Tico is the first with a reply: "Coming from a girl that's a statement!" he laughs.

"I think we enjoy playing the event-sized stuff now," Richie adds. "Earlier on in our career we played enough clubs to give us fulfillment on playing the smaller places."

"It's always fun to mix it up, and throw a small place in there. But we haven't really been doing that too much on this particular tour."

At this point I thank them nervously and put the phone down before I can do any more damage.

Hopefully my next Bon Jovi experience will be much better.

Vic has managed to get us gold circle tickets for their gig at the Ricoh stadium in Coventry this month and I can't wait.

But she's gonna kill me when she hears about the call.

I'll just blame Debbie Hampton.

Bon Jovi play at the Ricoh Arena, Coventry, on Tuesday, June 24. Tickets, priced £40-£75 are available through the 24-hour hotline on 08444 775 775 or online at www.aeglive.co.uk