Recently I was reminded of fame and fandom. There are powerful people who are famous, some end up infamous and others remain known in a way that is not viewed as famous or infamous or as ‘no one’.
There are ways of being popular or well known that seem to involve relating to others in a special way, a way known as ‘famous’. Mass scale adulation, total strangers wanting one’s autograph for reasons other than ‘you owe me & promise to pay’, one’s image and name being for use by the media and around. Sometimes it is fun and nurtures a giant ego: everyone loves me, and my life is great: I get to be HAPPY!! Hurray!
Other times it is not so great. Prince Harry visits his gran – Her Majesty for the first time after nude photos from losing strip poker turn up so freely that even I have seen them and I am just some middle aged American woman writer in a German village: talk about having access to information that is none of my business, but wow. Mainly, it shows that Harry is a good looking man and a good sport, even when he loses? That’s just one example. Other examples could be waking up on a bad hair day, feeling small and wanting to be left alone or with someone who really loves one and is kind only to be confronted by reporters or no reporters but media images of oneself and a rant article about how great or how horrible this person is. Publications one had no control over whatsoever.
Even so, most authors are human enough to be fans of some people and their work. I know I’ve been a fan of other authors, bands, movie stars – there are even clerics and spiritual teachers of whom I’m a big fan.
Heck, lots of people like to have pet dogs, because they feel that dogs make good fans.
Some people say men are like dogs and women are like cats. That is a rough way of saying that women love it when men act like devoted fans, even though it is annoying when they just seem to want to hump anything – even if it doesn’t move.