Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Who wants a hug?

For many years, I've wanted to give Mats Sundin a hug. I'm not embarassed to admit this although I do know it is kind of silly. Despite the fact that the guy has been making millions of dollars his entire adult life for playing the game he loves, has legions of fans and hundreds if not thousands of women vying for his attention (apparently, some women mail him pictures of themselves in their underwear along with their phone numbers - he throws them out), I sometimes get the crazy notion that he deserves a hug. A hug from me - one of his diehard fans. I realize it's silly. Sure, he hasn't won a Cup yet and there are tons of people who criticize him as a player and captain for no good reason but I doubt he's all that broken up over it. If he really needs a hug, he's got friends and family for that. His teammates hug him on an almost nightly basis.

But still I want to hug him. For all that he's done for me personally. For all the times he's brought me to my feet, yelling and cheering. All because of how he plays a game. I've wanted to hug David Usher too, for the way his music has made me feel all these years (I'm pretty sure Ive hugged Jeff Pierce on at least one occassion).
Then it occurred to me I've never really thought about hugging a writer. I tried to puzzle this out. Surely, there must be a writer whose work was as much a comfort to me as Sundin's on-ice heroics or David's (I can't refer to him as "Usher" now can I?) voice, lyrics and music? And I suppose maybe there is. But it's not the same, for some reason. I grew up reading a lot of different books by a lot of different authors. Gordon Korman's books entertained me again and again with their wacky characters and funny plots. But do I feel the need to hug him? Shake his hand, yeah, sure. But not hug him. Nor do I think about hugging any other author whom I grew up reading.

I read Jurassic Park when I was ridiculously young. So young that some of the language was beyond me and the content a little too mature for me at the time. But it was a book about dinosaurs and so it had to be read - that's how I saw it back then. I probably had to read it a few more times as I got a little older to really absorb it properly and fully appreciate it. I've read Crichton's work with regularity ever since and can always have a soft spot for him in honour of his taking a subject that meant so much to me when I was young and weaving it into a smart, exciting, well-written story that almost single-handedly brought dinosaurs back into pop culture (what with the eventual release of the movie) But I've never thought of meeting Michael Crichton and giving him a big ol' hug.

Is it because I fancy myself a writer? I can't be delusional enough to think of someone like Michael Crichton, or any published author for that matter, as a colleague. In my wildest dreams, I couldn't do what Mats Sundin or David Usher do - but will I ever be half the writer that any on my list are? I doubt it. And even if I somehow equal one or more of them, would that make me feel the need to hug any of them? I don't think so. But I don't know why.
I've spent so many hours reading, completely wrapped up in the world these people created for me and I respect and admire them endlessly. But if I met any of them, I think I'd be more shy than meeting a sports or music hero. Maybe that's it. After blathering about how I'm such a fan of their work, I'd eventually look down at the floor and mumble "I'm somewhat of a writer myself; that is, I'm trying to be," and who knows what any of them would say. What are they supposed to say? Are they supposed to get excited by this, as if they've never heard it a thousand times before and take a fanatical interest? Ask me to send them some of my material so they can maybe help me get it published?

If I ever meet Mats Sundin and have enough time to have a proper conversation with him, I imagine I would hug him almost right away if he was ok with it, then bombard him with praise and memories of some of my favourite feats of his. I did meet David Usher, briefly. I stammered that his music had meant a lot to me over the years and that I hoped he would continue for a long time to come. He was very gracious. I wanted to hug him but people literally mob the guy and it didn't seem the right thing to request at that moment.
There are lots of writers I wish I could meet. Lots I'd like to personally thank for inspiring me and filling me with awe and wonder etc. But the only one I think I'd ever care to hug is Stan Lee and that's more because of his persona than his actual work, I think. The guy invented freaking Spider-Man but others since have done a better job on him.

I never aspired to be a hockey player or a musician. Not seriously, anyway. They were more "wouldn't it be cool if" scenarios I'd sometimes play out it my head when I was likely supposed ot be paying attention in class or listening to my mother. Mats Sundin represents a team that I've loved passionately and irrationally for most of my life. David Usher represents music that was always there for me at various points in my life when I felt alone. Stephen King represents everything I aspire to be and maybe that's why I could never hug him. Writers aren't a touchy-feely group of people, anyway, it seems. So maybe it's all for the best.

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