The definition of fan-hood is a hot topic for me, primarily because I consider myself a fan of many things, and I don’t think what it means to be a fan has ever been set in stone. Let’s do that now.
There is a common misconception that being a fan of something means knowing as much as you can about it. Whether a singer, a show or a fictional universe, the more trivial knowledge you accumulate, the bigger fan you are. The problem with that is even if you know every single detail about Michael Jackson or “Friends” or “Harry Potter,” it doesn’t matter — you are no different than a Google results page. Any information you have about whoever or whatever you’re obsessed with I can also have within 10 seconds.
There’s a sense of shame that comes when a song plays on the radio and you say, “Oh, I love this band” and someone looks down their nose at you and asks what your favorite album is or how many times you’ve seen them perform live.
“Uh, none,” I say. “I’m not a Eurythmics scholar, I just know how to get down when “Sweet Dreams” comes on.”
This happens often if you’re new to an established fandom like “The Office.” Don’t be embarrassed if you don’t know in which episode Jim and Pam get married — it’s season 6, episodes 1 and 2, by the way — or that actors from “Glee” and “American Horror Story” both make cameo appearances. Those are interesting fun facts, but they vastly underrepresent how much I love that show.
Knowledge does not make you a fan, passion does. The goose bumps you get when “Thriller” plays on your stereo, or the tears you cried in 2004 — the year “Friends” ended — or the countless hours of sleep you lost at the hands of midnight “Harry Potter” book releases and the binge-reading that ensued, those are the moments that solidify your status as a fan.
I’ll never forget when I was in the car with my mom four summers ago and “Running With the Devil” by Van Halen came on the radio. The second the music started playing, I watched her completely forget who, where and when she was. For a moment, she wasn’t carting her kids around in her mom-mobile; it was 1978 again and she was flooring it, singing every word to that song.
I’m sure she has no idea how many albums Van Halen has sold over the years or even the names of all the band members, but none of that matters because even 30 years later, she can feel the music the same way she felt it in 1978.
My friends think it’s fun to ask me questions about Lady Gaga because I know just about all there is to know — her parent’s names, what hospital she was born in, what all 16 of her tattoos are — everything. I’m usually met with, “Wow, you really are her biggest fan.”
I have to roll my eyes at this because fanhood transcends useless information. All of that is just a side effect of being a fan, which is really about the relationship you share with that artist, cast, author, political figure, athlete or fictional character.
Fan-hood is not a competition. You don’t have to prove that you love something the most, so let’s all just take a deep breath and listen to David Bowie forever.
