The first time I watched Sam open a can of Chef Boyardee and eat it between two slices of bread, my opinion of him definitely plummeted. “What a savage! Heat that Chef up properly!” I thought. The nasty sandwiches didn’t stop with the Chef, though–he also put cold beef stew, leftover macaroni and cheese, and mashed potatoes on sandwiches. As a person who has a strict no-mixing-or-touching-of-the-foods rule, that was awful.
Despite everything, even being on the receiving end of awful mood swings and witnessing the Captain Morgan debacle, I don’t think Sam has ever thought less of me for anything I’ve done. You could call him a wonderful husband…
…or you could say he has super low standards. You’re probably leaning towards the latter.
And then I finally did something last week to lower his opinion.
I’ve mentioned before that I have a slight obsession with a certain band. I listened to that band as a kid in middle school and continued listening as they grew into extremely talented adults that continued to touch on subjects I was dealing with in life (there’s songs relating to marriage, parenting, depression).
Despite how much of a fan I was, there was one thing I never did–join the fan club.
“I can’t believe you aren’t in the club,” my husband teased me once.
“I’d never,” I laughed, acting like I was above that. I was not one of those shrieky girl/women fans (the ones that make concerts less enjoyable for everyone and brag about how they’ve been fans forever and are in the club, even), after all. But even more so than that, it cost $40 for a year membership, and I wouldn’t even pay for a membership to one of the warehouse clubs. And I’m a SAHM. Membership to a warehouse club is second only to membership in a church. I don’t have that, either.
But last week, I got to really thinking about all of the music I was missing out on. These guys release special music for fan club members each year (sometimes multiple times) and I estimated that I was losing out on probably a hundred songs by now.
A hundred songs, y’all.
“It’s almost my birthday. I should have this music!” I told myself. And then I bit the bullet. After paying for the membership and the EPs from previous years, it was damn near $100. Almost a hundred songs for damn near $100, though. (As I write this I realize I broke our rule about clearing purchases over $25 or so with each other. Oops.)
I didn’t tell Sam. But he found out anyway.
I had a new song on in the car. He listened for a bit and commented on how good it was. I love it when he loves it, because he knows pretty much everything about music and the only time he has steered me wrong with his suggestions is with the Avett Brothers. (Yes, I realize I’m the only person who dislikes them.)
“Wait…is this a new song? Did they put on a new album? I haven’t heard this one before,” he said. He should damn well know, since that’s what I play in my car 90 percent of the time.
“It is,” I said with the sense of pride one might have when their child does something spectacular. “But it’s not on a new album…exactly…it’s on their new EP.”
Sam was quiet for a moment. “But I thought they only released their EPs to fan club members.”
“You joined their fan club, E?”
“So you’re now a card carrying member of their fan club?” he asked with a hint of derision.
I shook my head. “No. It hasn’t come in the mail yet.”
“Oh, E.” He gave me a look of disappointment. “I thought you weren’t going to do that.”
“Well…I wasn’t. But my birthday. And I won’t join next year–I’ll just join every few years or so that way I can get the music.”
“Sure you won’t.” He sighed. “My wife is a Fanson.” And then he shook his head and went into the bedroom to get on the computer. He’ll live, even though my reputation has taken a hit.
My membership card came in the mail today. It has my name on it and everything (the name is on the back). Maybe I’ll whip it out in an official manner at people and ask what’s playing on their iPod. Just kidding…Little Man has claimed it, since that’s his favorite band, too. He plans to put it in his wallet. Hopefully it doesn’t cause him to get picked on much the way this band caused trouble for me…still causes trouble.