the tale of a fan and a pro/con list

A fan is, by definition, “noun: an enthusiastic devotee, follower, or admirer of a sport,pastime, celebrity, etc.: a baseball fan; a great fan of Charlie Chaplin.”  And I’m not totally sure why dictionary.com picked Charlie Chaplin to be the example.

I am a fan.  Maybe even a fanatic.  Devotee.  Follower.  Pre-buyer of albums.  You  might be able to guess what I’m a fan of.  Yep, Switchfoot.

I’ve already regaled the story about buying my first Switchfoot CD: https://kalossplanchna.wordpress.com/2011/08/10/endorphins-typos-and-dark-horses/  (relive the magic)  Have I mentioned exactly how much I enjoy listening to the 74 Switchfoot songs that I own?

People get obsessions about things all the time.  There was a time when I ate Eggo waffles every single day with a chocolate chip in every single square.  Not the breakfast of champions from a nutritional standpoint, but I definitely liked eating breakfast.  There was also a time when I thought it was fun to wear overalls.  I have a friend who is nuts about Nick Jonas – mentions of him find their way into school projects, texting conversations, and plans for life.

What do you want to do after college?

 Marry Nick Jonas.

You could say that I have a slight Switchfoot obsession, but I don’t put myself in the category of screaming, crying fans – thrusting their hands through the crowd just to touch the corner of a Jon Foreman’s sleeve.  I’m still a human with some standards that keep me from putting myself out there that far.  (even though with my long arms I could probably reach farther than most)  I’m an internal fan.  I listen to their music without ever getting sick of it – and trust me, I’ve tried to get sick of it.  I’ve tagged them in a couple of my twitter posts.  I have a poster that used to hang above my bed until I decided to be a little more classy and put one of my paintings up there.  I own all of their CD’s or singles that they ever put out there – all legally, and I wish that I could meet them.

I like to be distinguished from the crowd.  If I met those guys I would want to be the fan they remembered.

Enter fantasy:

Music swells (and it’s a Switchfoot song of course.)

One day, I am walking into my neighborhood Cub Foods when, completely unexpectedly and in the napkin aisle, I see a face I know well.  It’s on the inserts in my albums.  It’s on that poster I’ve seen so many times.  It’s the face of Jon Foreman.  Or Tim Foreman.  Or Chad Butler, or Jerome Fontamillas, or Drew Shirley.  They’re trying to act incognito, but I can’t let this opportunity pass by, so I walk up to them, with shaky knees and wide eyes and say: 

Shoot.  What do I say?

What have they never been asked?  What has someone never said to them before, something that will be memorable and make them want to take me on tour with them and let me do backup vocals or clean their dressing rooms?  It’d have to be pretty strange for it to be unique.  What’s unique?  “I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!!!!!!!” then name them all off before they get a chance to breathe or run away.

or what about pretending that it’s completely normal for me to see my favorite musicians in the world at the grocery store.  “How about those HomeBest napkins?  Yeah?  They get the job done.”  No, that’s no good.  Knowing me I would probably get nervous and think it’d be funny to mention how many napkins I use in a regular meal (at least two, in case you were curious) and laugh awkwardly while they just move on, wondering who let this crazy out of the nuthouse.

Honestly, I’d rather just be peers with them.  Go to dinner on a Saturday night with them (of course, letting them foot the bill since they probably have money in their checking accounts) and talk about the world.  Talk about the meanings of their songs that I’m pretty sure I’ve deduced over the years.  Experience the senses of humor that I’ve detected in their song-writing.  Hear about who exactly they are more than I already know.  Check their hands for wedding rings and ask about their families.

Sigh.

I’ve been avoiding the topic that I am obligated to talk about.  It starts with an “s”.

School.

Let’s make a pro/con list about starting school.  This is what writers do.

pro: I get to drive Audrey to school.

con: I applied for a parking permit last October… and I still do not have it.

pro: parents take me out for breakfast.

con: my alarm is set for 5:15… AM.

pro: new classes.

con: new homework.

pro: getting to see my friends again.

con: I won’t have any free time to see them outside of the school building.

pro: last year of high school

con: last year of high school.

The funny thing about that list is that is doesn’t matter if the cons outweigh the pros…. I still have to go, and I have to go tomorrow.

Since I was so dang productive the last few days, however, at least all my ducks are in a row before I head off.  You can see the floor in my room now.  I got rid of the dinosaur computer that was taking up too much space on my desk… it’s now living in Brooke’s room so I don’t have to deal with finding a new home for it.  I vacuumed. (much-needed, let me tell you) I practiced piano.  I packed my backpack.  I finished the warm up CD for my volleyball team.  I bought shampoo.  I have food for my secret stash in my locker.  (I’m not telling you where it is…  it’s a secret)  I talked to my grandma on the phone.  I got caught up on email.  I ordered my friend’s birthday present.  I printed pictures.  Got caught up with an old friend.  Washed my sheets.  Did my laundry.  Got my art supplies.  re-painted my nails.  talked to Brooke on the phone.

The list goes on, and I crossed everything on it off.  It was a beautiful feeling.

Productivity, so underrated.

And now I’m going to remind myself of the goals I set for myself at the beginning of the summer for this school year.

So, here it is, my list.

  1. Take (1) leadership role
  2. send flowers to (2) people who don’t go to school with me.
  3. leave pretty cupcakes on (3) people’s doorsteps who need some sugar and encouragement.
  4. give (4) unsolicited shoulder rubs.
  5. Pay for (5) people’s coffees.
  6. Tell (6) people I appreciate them who I haven’t told before.
  7. read (7) books of the Bible
  8. leave (8) anonymous, nice notes for people I don’t normally reach out to
  9. Pray for (9) new people on a regular basis

All right, senior year.  Show me what ya got.

 

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