Reaching Out to the Stars (2 page)

Everybody at one time or another in life finds themselves being some type of fan to one or more selected celebrities. As a child or young teen, it is somewhat expected. It is a fact that even as grown adults, we actually still carry a piece of that inner child.

My present experience with fandom as a grown adult stems from an addiction to the show
American Idol
. Watching the show has been a must since season two. For some reason, the excitement and pleasure the show has given me over the years has led me to never want to stop watching it from season to season, where missing an episode could be looked at as a complete and utter tragedy.

Being an Idol fan means more than being just a fan of the show and the chemistry of the judges. We become devoted fans of certain contestants, where the obsession never ends when a season ends but is long-lasting. When the show is over, we devoted fans will do anything in our power to follow them through magazine articles, websites, talk shows and not to mention the anticipation of their newly released albums followed by their tours. Every new season is a new adventure of finding a new love of our lives, whether we are single, in a relationship or married.

As the eighth season of Idol began, I remember the show replayed a memorable moment from season seven. As they were about to announce which of the two David’s was to be the next American Idol, the cameras’ focal point was on a group of young teenage girls anxiously awaiting the results. Clearly, David Archuletta fans, they went into total hysterics when the winner was revealed as David Cook. The screaming and crying was entertainingly humorous. What is more hysterical than the somewhat psychotic reaction from the young girls, is that we as adults tend to react the same way.

My experience focuses on my obsessions with contestants from three of the more talked about seasons. If you, too, are an Idol fan, you probably have experienced some of the same love, joy, excitement and even tears through the devotion of your most loved and admired Idol contestants.

Do celebrities really know what it is like to be a devoted fan? The answer to that question is yes. Sometimes they just lose sight of it. This is because everybody at one time in their lives is a die-hard fan. That’s right, it is true. Even celebrities are fans of other actresses and actors, musicians or sports figures. They have all once had an idol, someone they admire, and probably still do. I can assume for most celebrities that there was someone along the way who inspired them some time in their life, as a child or adult, to help them to have the courage to build their own careers.

For example, before Britney Spears got her big break, she was truly inspired by Madonna, one of the biggest pop stars of the eighties and still rolling with the times. Madonna, in my opinion, is a legend.

Another great example is the newest addition to country music, Carrie Underwood. As she inspires us, she was inspired by other greats like Rascal Flatts and Shania Twain.

The difference between them and us is once they make it big, they are within that realm of stardom. A devoted fan can sometimes turn into being an equal, or even a companion to the inspiration. Contact between the two is sometimes an everyday affair, whether they are having dinner together, traveling together, working together or just being acquainted with each other. Wouldn’t it be cool to wine and dine with Ryan Seacrest? In our wildest dreams and after too much wine is more like it.

Britney Spears at twenty-five had already made herself one of the biggest names in Hollywood. Through the best and the worst, she has managed to keep her head up and stand beside the best of the best. She stirs the pot of controversy while performing with her inspiration, Madonna, at the Video Music Awards, and even collaborates with Madonna in her video, “Me Against the Music.”

Carrie Underwood began her journey on the hit reality television show American Idol, but had already been handed the opportunity of a lifetime when she performed alongside Rascall Flatts before she was even voted the season four winner. Today, she stands beside Brad Paisley hosting the American Country Music Awards, introducing great country stars like George Strait, Kenny Chesney and even presenters, such as her personal favorite inspiration, Shania Twain.

Sometimes when you have something that’s right within your reach and you get used to it, it is easy to forget what it’s like being on the other side of the fence. I am not discrediting celebrities in any way. I know from the fans’ perspective that we cannot even begin to understand the pressures of being a star.

I think of some of the downfalls of stardom include the lack of privacy, the breakneck pace of success, dealing with pressures and stress which can sometimes lead to bad decisions, and even loneliness at times. Then, I wonder, why do we all want their lives? Maybe we are the lucky ones.

Britney Spears suffered through more bad publicity than anyone should have to deal with. As I tuned into her documentary “For the Record,” I sat and cried with her.

I personally feel that when young teens enter the music industry and become famous pop stars, as they are enjoying the bliss of being a new celebrity, they miss out on the normalcy and the everyday life that every teenager should experience. Then people wonder why they have breakdowns later in life. They are expected to stay on these hectic schedules where they don’t even have time to think. Then, one day they come to realize that they need something else in their lives other than the fame, as the same thing one day to the next becomes boring.

Even though it starts out exciting and is always fun, they start to crave freedom and, better yet, love the very things we possess and sometimes take for granted. Sometimes I wonder if a person who has what seems to be everything, really has nothing.

As we all make mistakes in our lives or go through times of depression or bad spells, we try to pick up the pieces and move on. In Britney’s case, the media made it impossible for her to have any private life at all. They make it impossible for celebrities to pick up the pieces when they have a bad day and instead turn it into a bad week, month or even a year.

After all, if regular people make mistakes, hardly anyone knows about it, but if a celebrity flushes the toilet the wrong way, it’s on the front page of The Enquirer. I wish Britney the best. I know she will make a comeback sooner than later and I will be nothing but happy for her.

Is it possible to experience the dream and stay grounded, still have a connection to what is reality and avoid all negative influences?

The fan—so many of us which in comparison makes the celebrity scene such a small fraction of the world, yet seen all over the world; and not to forget, who put them where they are.

So, what is my inspiration for writing? The wonder of it all stems from questions derived from three unanswered fan letters.

Chapter 2

The Pre-teen/Teenage Fan

My first memory of being a devoted fan was around grade three.

My dad told my mom when I was born, “This one’s going to Hollywood.” Sorry dad, I’m not there yet, and as the days just keep on passing me by, I’m thinking that I missed the boat on that one.

As a child I loved the camera and the camera loved me. I loved to take part in school plays, even if it was the smallest part, and at home I liked to fool around with the video camera always finding a way to involve my older brother, David, in my silliness.

I remember one time I made him videotape me as a weather forecaster. I dressed up in a yellow rain jacket and pulled up the hood with the string pulled so tight that all you could see was my face. I went out on the front porch in the middle of hurricane Bob and almost got blown right off the steps. We laughed for days as we watched it over and over again.

Being raised in what I considered to be a musical family, I grew up to have a great appreciation for music. My mom played piano and I have memories of hearing her playing the songs “The Entertainer” and “Midnight Fire Alarm” as I was hanging around in my bedroom.

I always wanted to play the piano when I listened to my mom play. I attempted to take lessons twice from two different teachers.

Unfortunately, I never had the patience to sit and practice the way I needed in order to succeed. I just wanted to sit and play. I enjoyed sounding things out by ear. Once in a while, I made an attempt to learn a song by actually reading the music. As I always thought it was difficult to read and play at the same time, I would memorize it so that I could just sit and play. I don’t think I ever learned a complete song, just bits and pieces of songs, enough to say that I could read music and play a little.

My dad was also in a band. I remember the guys coming over to practice every once in a while. My dad played the drums, John was on the lead guitar, Al on the bass and Andy played the accordion. At my father’s annual Super Bowl party, Andy is always there.

Whenever I hear the song “Lyin’ Eyes” on the radio, I always think of my dad because I remember him singing that with the band. I also remember “Peaceful Easy Feeling.” Hmm, they must have been Eagles fans.

David, my brother, was also a great drummer. In junior high, everyone oohed and ahhed his solo drum performance to “Wipe Out” at the school concerts. I was always proud to be his sister. He has now become more focused on the guitar and is now an incredible guitarist. He is presently working on his own CD, writes his own music and is pretty much a one man band because he can play any instrument.

More than learning how to play an instrument, my heart was set on singing. I have loved to sing since I was about eight years old. I went through a phase where I loved the Broadway musical Annie. I made my parents bring me to see the movie in the theater several times. I had everything “Annie”; the dolls and toys, the clothes and of course the album, which I sang to over and over. I even had this weird idea that I was going to round up the neighborhood kids to perform the production of “Annie” in my backyard. Of course, that never happened.

In fifth grade, I went to Nature’s Classroom, an outdoor educational experience, and learned a song that we sang every night around the campfire. I believe it was called “The Garden Song.” I loved the song and I really wanted to sing it. I came home with it memorized and sang it to David. “Inch by inch and row by row, gonna make this garden grow, all you need is a rake and a hoe and a piece of fertile ground.” He learned it on his guitar by ear and by the end of the night, we had made a tape. We gave it to my mom and dad as a gift and they still have it to this day.

David started to interest me in the Monkees and the Beatles. It was good music and of course, as the little sister who looked up to her big brother, I wanted to do everything that he did and like everything he liked. We performed a lot of Beatles’ songs in the basement of our house. Sometimes we fought about who was going to get to sing what songs. I claimed the song “Let It Be,” one of my personal favorites.

I remember being really angry with him for not letting me be part of his rendition of “We Are the World.” He carried on for five minutes singing the chorus at the end, like it would have killed him to let me sing one lousy verse. Brothers! We did come together to perform for the family on Christmas Eve and even at my cousin Suzie’s graduation party, which was mostly just our family and her college friends.

I entered junior high school, joined the chorus and played the recorder, all the usual things that junior high students get involved in. At this time, David and I had a friend, John, who lived about five houses down the street from us. He played the keyboard. We had a goal to make a recording of “Stairway to Heaven.” John played the keyboard, David was on the guitar and I actually played the recorder and sang.

We had a lot of fun with it and a lot of good laughs, and it sounded pretty good. We only reached the part when the song started to get a little more intense: “and as we wind on down the road…” I never really pictured myself as the rock singer and I will probably never be accused for trying.

In junior high, I aspired to become a cheerleader and was crushed when I didn’t make the team. The music teacher, Mrs. C., told me that it was a good thing that I didn’t because all of that yelling would have strained my vocal chords and would have ruined my beautiful voice. I actually bought into that, being the dope that I was. It did make me feel better, though.

My best friend, Kiara, and I were fans of all the same musical artists. We were typical pre-teen girls who wore fifty black jelly bracelets, cross earrings, lace ribbons in our hair, lace gloves with the fingertips cut off and denim jackets. We even tried to get away with the midriff shirts which were looked down upon by our parents. We would have sleepovers and spend endless hours dressing up and performing together and solo, making up dances and pretending to sing into fake microphones. Sometimes, I think that we actually thought we were Madonna or that we could be her if we tried hard enough or sang long enough.

We were also huge Michael Jackson fans. My Auntie Becky got a Michael Jackson impersonator for my cousin Marge’s birthday one year. She told her that in response to her fan letter she wrote to him, he came to her birthday party. She did not believe it, though. We would have sleepovers and wear the white sequin glove, taking turns to see who could do the moonwalk the best. I think David was always the best at it. It worked easiest with socks on the kitchen floor. I remember shopping for the poster of Michael Jackson in the white suit with the yellow vest. That is the poster everyone had to have and I think all of my friends had it. Another Michael memory was going to my friend Tricia’s birthday party to watch the making of Thriller. After that, I did not sleep for about a month.