Sit down, my babies – I’m going to tell you a story.
Back in 2008, I was at the Tower Theater in Upper Darby, PA on the night that the Phillies would end up clinching the World Series title. A dangerous day to be out in that city for sure, what with the local sports fans’ penchant for setting cars on fire. But no matter. I was there to see the band I’ve loved since I was but a preteen – live. For the first time. Ever.
Between the opening band and the main act, two couples in their early 20s walked in. These dudes were bros to the max, and completely decked out in Phillies gear. They’d almost certainly pounded a few beers already. As they walked to their seats two rows in front of us, the guys would periodically get into someone’s face and ironically yell, “HANSON, YEAH!” My friend Becky and I were rolling our eyes, sure that these morons were about to ruin the night for everyone. Their girlfriends clearly dragged them here, when they’d much rather be in a bar, covered in wing sauce and watching the game.
And then, something magical happened. The lights dimmed. The band walked out. The music started. Taylor Hanson started singing.
And so did the bros.
For the next two hours, our dudes sang every word of every song from Taylor, Isaac, and Zac Hanson’s flawless, career-spanning set. They twirled their girlfriends and high-fived strangers. They were having the TIME of their LIVES. My heart grew 3 sizes that day.
If you want to see my head explode, go ahead and talk shit on my favorite band. My desert island band. I mean, I will get UGLY.