I was one of many who attended the June 3rd Bell Atlantic JazzFest. Of course I was bound and set on seeing the screaming wonder, being a huge Yoko fan. I had dragged my friends to the concert two hours early, to ensure optimal placement during Yoko's performance. Hyped Up and adrenaline-rushed, my friends and I nervously waited for what we considered to be a once in a lifetime chance to see the one and only.

Much preparation had been made, cameras were fully loaded, proper Yoko attire and music CD's had been obtained, and of course what would be a die-hard fan without a massive "We Love Yoko" sign to wave in our moment of glory.

At about 7:00 PM the announcement was made "Ladies and Gentlemen, Yoko Ono," and the stage-rush began. From the shadows of Battery Park came a horde of people. Of course,strategic planning placed my friends and I front and center, as close as we could get and still be members of the audience. The quiet little Japanese woman we all love exploded on the stage with what can only be classified as the perfect scream.

Suddenly it seemed the entire park was saturated with a cascade of moans, grunts, and tri-tonal screams. It was delicious. Yoko achieved a Hendrix performance status, as was evident in an ocean of onlookers gaping in awe. The guitar stylings of Thurston Moore and the groove created by DJSpooky completed the hypnotic atmosphere.

Every wave and vibration that emanated from Yoko stabbed deep within the soul and ripped a tear of raw emotion in the active conscious. Yoko was mesmerizing.

At the conclusion of her performance Yoko retired to a quiet, yet suffocating enclosure of photographers and backstage pass holders. Myself and five friends waited desperately on the sidelines in an attempt to catch her attention. When all had seemed hopeless we sadly departed over a park fence through a row of tour buses and trailers outside the park grounds.

When disappointment was at its highest, a swift turn around a seemingly innocent corner made my sixteen years on this earth complete. Nothing but luck and what could be interpreted as fate brought me to an empty street with not a soul except of course for myself and Yoko guided by her staff assistants all walking straight towards me. The sudden shock forced me to duck back around the corner from which I came. After a moment of emotional collectiveness I reengaged my steadfast collision course for the divinity that stood before me.

Yoko CD in hand I desperately remarked on her mind blowing performance, she responded "Oh thankyou" ( a smile ) " I always like to perform for this crowd " and with that she proceeded into her waiting car. I professed my personal love for her artistry as the car door closed gently behind her.

My friends behind me at this point, CD jacket extended we pleaded for an autograph as the car pulled away. Suddenly the car stopped and years of dreams and fantasy had been finally completed with a simple "Love, Yoko Ono"