Confessions of a 30-Something Hanson Fanatic
How rediscovering the boy band I obsessed over when I was 12—and connecting with other superfans from all over the world—helped me navigate life as an adult.
Illustrations by Richard A. Chance | Edited by Lilly Dancyger
The line stretched back at least two city blocks in the bright afternoon sun. There were 10 of us — if you showed up with fewer people, you’d be grouped together with strangers, and the stakes were too high for that. As we inched closer to the doors, an aura of nervous energy settled around our little cluster. We reapplied our lip gloss and checked our hair in the reflections of neighboring storefront windows. We wiped clammy palms on our jeans and exchanged excited smiles.
When our turn came, we stepped into the entryway of the music hall, and there they were: Isaac, Taylor and Zac Hanson, smiling and waiting to shake our hands and pose for one of several dozen group photos they would take with fans that afternoon. Zac wore a zipped-up leather jacket in spite of the warm day, Taylor was taller than I’d imagined, and Isaac was all in black à la Johnny Cash. I said hello, then found myself wedged under Taylor’s left armpit as …
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