People! Stevie Nicks (diva, Diva, DIVA) is playing Saturday night at the Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion, and I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling verklempt. Don’t talk amongst yourselves yet, though. I have something I must say. Bear with me, my k-dumplings.

My complete, undivided and upmost adoration for Stevie began in college, so I’ve been a devoted fan for years older than some of you are old. When I learned of a Fleetwood Mac concert at Dallas’ Reunion Arena I had to be there. Someone — I didn't care who — was taking me to see Stevie.

I found the perfect roadies (blessings upon you, my friends) who played Stevie all the way to Dallas, with a few acceptable interruptions of The Doors, ZZ Top, The Stones and more period music. (I was patient.) Singing our hearts out all along Interstate 35, we somehow made it to the stadium parking lot, God bless. And the next thing I knew, I was inside the arena ready for Stevie.

Yes, ready to tumble for her.

OMG

I stood in that venue for the entire show (I was young then, so no swollen ankle problems). It was the most powerful concert I have ever seen. It was like heroin, so I’ve heard. Stevie, in lacy black, flowing attire — she looked spectacular; did you see her nails? — captivated the entire audience, casting a spell like the witch she had been accused of being.

Mick Fleetwood hammered out the drums, sexy Lindsey Buckingham played his guitar in a seductive manner to a flirting Stevie and Christine McVie melted, melted like butter, everyone with her keyboard and vocal performance of “Landslide.” The Dallas newspaper said Christine stole the show, but not in my opinion. Not from my Stevie. She was fabulous. To die for.

OMG

Yes, in my second life, I want to be Stevie. Hello, gorgeous! For now, dressing in all lacy black with black boots for Halloween and, of course, carrying a tambourine, the essential accessory, is as close as I can get to being this remarkable woman.

Watch for me. I’ll voodoo your pants off when I’m Stevie, thank you very much.

OMG

My best date in college came shortly after that Fleetwood Mac adventure with a friend who was just as crazy about the band, mainly Stevie, as I was…and always will be.

“Come over. I’ve chilled a bottle of your favorite wine, and we’ll sit on the couch and listen to some great music.”

I did, and we did, playing the entire album, both sides, of Buckingham/Nicks.

It’s a memory I won’t forget. (Approaching verklemptism now. Wait, wait. Ah, there, it passed.)

Years later, caught in a sudden rainstorm in West Texas, I grabbed my then 10-year-old son to hop in the car to head for ranch house shelter. (Yes, I was at a ranch, believe it or not, a fabulous ranch at that.) What did we play? What else? “Thunder Always Happens When It’s Raining.”

We immediately felt safe, all thanks to Stevie. (Stevie, we love you, we adore you, you are beautiful.)

I must say, my son is in college now, studying to be a doctor, thank you very much. Yes, my son, a doctor. I am so very proud.

I play over and over again the video special featuring Tom Petty and Stevie, The Heartbreakers’ legendary, honorary little sister, in their rendition of “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around.” Watch it. No one does “I Need to Know” like Stevie in that same duo performance. Again, to die for.

OMG

OK, now I AM verklempt. Talk amongst yourselves. I’ll give you a topic: Stevie Nicks. Discuss.

Stevie, with Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers:

​Stevie Nicks in 1987, "Stand Back":