Header illustration courtesy of Olivia Wolfson @o.wolfson.tm.

Being from New Jersey has conditioned me to love three important things: beaches, Taylor Ham sandwiches, and Bon Jovi. I’m proud to say I’ve been face-to-face with all three of those.

I watched Bon Jovi’s Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Induction in 2018. 16-year-old me sat in the living room with my dad as the TV flashed with compilations of my formative rockstar crush enchanting arenas. My living room was flooded with pop metal and joyful anticipation. Jon Bon Jovi was a kid from a little town in Jersey with a dream, and he made it happen. Perhaps I’d do the same, I thought. Jon Bon Jovi made me wonder if I was destined for some sort of greatness. Maybe not rock stardom, but something.

After a few frustrated years entering my 20s and exiting my tumultuous teens, I got a taste of that something. In May of 2024, I achieved an art school kid’s number one goal: an internship. Not just any internship, but an internship at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Museum in May of 2024. Not only did I land an internship in communications, which was adjacent to my field of study, but it was at an establishment dedicated towards everything rock and roll, my first love. Perfect.

I was just in time for the opening of the Rock Hall’s latest exhibit, “Bon Jovi Forever,” an entire floor designed so visitors could explore the band’s memorabilia chronologically. That meant my first weekend on the job would be Bon Jovi Fan Day, a big day for New Jersians and die-hard fans like myself. It had to be fate. Not only would the event provide guests with a listening party, trivia, and a grand opening, but the band was to appear in the flesh for a live interview.

Now, when you’re an intern, your first instinct is not to expect much. I was ready to run errands, send emails, greet journalists, and be an extra pair of hands. I was just happy to be there, a cog in the ever-moving machine that kept the museum thriving and the Rock Hall Foundation’s mission alive. My tasks were short and sweet, but I was content enough breathing the same air as one of my favorite bands.

I arrived at the event decked out in a leather jacket (straight from the Rock Hall shop’s Bon Jovi collection) adorned with studded fringe, teased hair, and a yes-man energy. Shortly after I set foot on the fourth floor, escorting eager interviewers and cameramen onto the makeshift red carpet in preparation for the band’s arrival, my supervisor asked me, nonchalantly, “I know you’re a big fan. Would you like to hold the phone for an interview?”

It took me a few seconds to process that I’d be holding the phone for Jon-freakin’-Bon Jovi. A representative for People Magazine would be dialing in, and it was up to the Rock Hall communications department to make it happen.

One thing crossed my mind: so much could go wrong.

I was surprisingly hesitant. All I could think about was the possibility of dropping the phone, or how someone else could call in the middle of it, or that I could hang up by accident. I was so shocked, I almost declined, but I knew my father would let me have it if I declined such a task. Despite the pressure, I manned up. “Absolutely.”

There I was, trembling in front of the songwriter who showed me that New Jersey is a place to be proud of, while someone from People Magazine asked him questions about his exhibit. Mr. Bon Jovi stood there in his sunglasses (despite the dim room) and sleek black suit, evidently itching to leave, asking my boss when we could cut the interview. My arm shook. My hands grew clammy. My nerves were on overdrive, but I prevailed, using the memory of watching his induction as motivation. Even with his antsy nature, he took the time to answer questions with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. I even got to wave at Tico Torres, who politely stood by as the frontman spoke for his team and their exciting milestone. If only the band knew that the timid, dolled-up intern in front of them was achieving a milestone, too. Greatness, I realized, didn’t have to be an induction ceremony. Greatness was a one-minute interview, a starting-level job, and a touch of Jersey pride.