The fan

Last week I had a dream in which I wrote a blog entry and just remembered it today wondering why it wasn’t showing up. Now I have to write it all over….
Something or other happened that day about which I would normally start the gnashing of teeth. As JM and I were driving along he said, “I hope you’re not beating yourself up,” to which I replied, “no, actually I’m a member of my own fan club right now.” And then I laughed at my own little joke.
But then I started thinking about what it’s like for famous people with fan clubs and what I would do. So I went on about how I would probably register in the fan club forums and leave messages about how cool I am, or add bits of random trivia. JM suggested that he wouldn’t have time to join my club, but could recommend his imaginary friend whose only request was free food at the annual meeting.
“His name is Friedhelm. It means ‘peace helmet’,” he said.
We reached our destination after a few more demands were issued in the name of Friedhelm, and I protested greatly against imaginary members other than my alias. We ate our meal, drank a beer and watched some tennis with the locals before heading back home. JM remarked how tired he was and I added, “I feel the weight of sleep on my lids and limbs.” I turned to him and said, “hey, didn’t you like that?” to which he replied, “tell it to your fan club.”

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