A memory I would love to relive: A night with Hanson

Did you miss me?



I'm here today to talk about an experience I want to relive. Last time we left off, D had me -- her 12 year old self -- explain why it was so monumental that she would be attending a Hanson concert. Today, I'm here to interview Future D about her experience.

But first, I need your help with the popular kids again. They all started wearing Adidas, so I bought a pair of Adidas shoes. And then nothing happened. So I bought an Adidas t-shirt. Still no friends. Do you think I need to switch to the Adidas fanny pack? And no one was even impressed that I got Snow White's autograph! Jerks. 

Anyway, back to my assigned task: interviewing my future self, Mrs. Zac Hanson.


D at 12: So, set the stage for me. There were millions of fans, right? In a giant stadium? And you paid hundreds of dollars to get in?

D at 29: Well, not quite. Hanson isn't as popular as they used to be. The show was free... and I would say there were hundreds of people there. Also, can I tell you something you're going to find hard to believe?

D@12: I already don't believe any of this.

D@29: Isaac is the cutest Hanson.



D@12: That isn't even funny.

D@29: I think it's proof of my adulthood. I own a house, have a retirement account, but it didn't hit me until I admitted to myself that the oldest, more mature Hanson is the cutest one.

D@12: Dude, you and Zac are MARRIED. You can't just go around saying you like his brother! 

D@29: I'm not married to Zac Hanson. We covered this last time. 

D@12: I just don't even understand who else is out there for us. Zac is EVERYTHING.

D@29: Actually, you will someday find out that there are things more important than Zac Hanson... things like proving your friends right.

D@12: It sounds like you're wanting to tell me a story.

D@29: You guessed it. So my friend A and I are walking through the fair, trying to decide which fried delicacy we'll be sampling before the concert. A minivan with tinted windows crawls past me, and somehow I just know Hanson is in that van. So I follow it. 

D@12: I've been told you should avoid vans with tinted windows.

D@29: Good girl. Keep doing that, until you're 29 and you have a hunch about a Hanson in a minivan. Anyway, my friend A rolls her eyes at me as I follow the van. She tells me I'm being ridiculous. But I don't care. I just know. Sure enough, the van pulls up to a stop and out jumps.... Zac Hanson.


D@12: IS THIS THE PROPOSAL STORY?!

D@29: How can I get it through your head that Zac Hanson and I are NOT MARRIED?

D@12: A life without Zac Hanson is not a life worth living.

D@29: How poetic. Did you write that in your diary last night while listening to "Where's the Love"?

D@12: MAYBE.

D@29: Anyway, Zac smiled at me. And you know what I said? I said nothing.

D@12: I can understand that. He took your breath away.

D@29: Not quite. I was too busy yelling at A. "Come here right now," I told her. "I TOLD YOU SO. I told you it was them!"



D@12: This is a heartbreaking story. You let your ego get in the way of a lifetime of happiness. A lifetime of Hanson. Whatever. Tell me about the concert.

D@29: Well, we had the BEST seats. I happened to spot a girl I know through blogging.

D@12: Wait stop. You know this person through the 'net?

D@29: Yes... except no one calls it the 'net anymore. 

D@12: Whatever. So you met this person in, what, a chatroom? And I assume it was a scary man who kidnapped you? Are you talking to me from captivity? I've seen stuff like this on Rescue 911.

D@29: Um, no. I don't think there are chatrooms anymore? People actually meet other, normal people on the internet these days. See? This is Lindsey.



D@12: I still think you should be careful. Maybe she was wearing a disguise.

D@29: Yeah ok. I appreciate your internet safety know-how. Either way, she let us sit next to her in her second row seats! 

D@12: And how was the show?

D@29: Honestly? It was a little surreal. I was surrounded by screaming, hysterical fans  before the concert, and I was unabashedly making fun of them. And then Hanson started singing, and, well, I felt like you.

D@12: Like me?

D@29: Yes. Everything you feel right now -- about how Hanson is EVERYTHING and all that other nonsense? I felt it again as soon as they sang the first note. It came rushing back to me, the way a certain smell unleashes a vivid memory. It was like getting hit in the back of the head by a nostalgia 2x4. I had to sit down, it was so overwhelming.



D@12: How poetic. Did you write that in your diary?

D@29: Shut up. And I don't have a diary. I have a blog. It's way more legit. Anyway, that feeling went away pretty quickly and I could enjoy the show. Can I give you a glimpse into your future that's going to make you really, really happy?

D@12: You aren't married to Zac Hanson and you live in Minnesota, which leads me to believe you are also not married to Prince William, Dawson Leary, or that cute guy from Sunday school. How can you possibly make this right?

D@29: See this picture?



D@12: Yeah. We look hideous. The people at the one hour photo place must have had a real laugh at that one. 

D@29: I don't use the one hour.... whatever. Too complicated to explain. But do you see what I'm holding?

D@12: Sure. What is it?

D@29: Zac's drumstick. 

D@12: You're telling me that 16 years from now, I will touch Zac Hanson's drumstick?

D@29: I feel like you're gearing up for a dirty joke here, yet I know that I wouldn't have understood the innuendo until at least age 17.

D@12: I actually don't know what innuendo means.

D@29: Annnnd we're done here.


Tune in next time for What's in My Fannypack!

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**In case you were confused, the memory I would love to relive would be the fabulous night at the Hanson concert, NOT being a 13 year old fanny pack aficionado or writing made up conversations with myself.. Glad we got that straight.