Where’s the line drawn between a person holding on to a harmless souvenir and a sick obsession that borders on psychosis?
I was playing on my fiancée’s computer the other night, setting my lineup for fantasy football and checking on different entertainment/sports-related news, when I heard on the TV a preview for what Joanna (my fiancée) was about to start watching. The show was one of Rachel Ray’s nine shows where she has guest stars on to interview while whatever pot roast is in the oven stops cooking. If I had to guess I would say it was “30-minute meals,” but that is a complete shot in the dark.
The clips from the program indicated New Kids on the Block would be her guest for the day, which could be the topic of an entirely new column about why they shouldn’t still be relevant in the year 2008, but let’s stick to the topic at hand. I really wasn’t paying much attention at this point, but when it was announced the Older New Kids Who Have Been Around the Block a Couple of Times would make an appearance screams could be heard and I looked up to see what the ruckus was all about.
By the time I started actually watching the clip it showed a female audience member holding a half-empty water bottle stating it belonged to one of the New Kids singers from the first time they were making music and touring. I believe her exact words were, “I’ve held on to this bottle for 15 years!” She is at about a level 3 on the scale of crazy, only a few steps away from harassing, stalking and then shooting at presidents in hopes of making a good impression.
So why do we believe keeping a water bottle with traces of a boy band singer’s saliva is crossing a line that can lead to meeting with a psychologist two times a week, but it is okay to put a baseball hit foul in a case surrounded by foam fingers proclaiming your team as number one and cheap felt pennants you bought from a street vendor?
Both of these items have absolutely no value in the free market economy other than as a used baseball and water bottle. Outside of sentimentality for whatever memento you happen to possess, souvenirs from concerts, sporting events, celebrity meetings and other milestone moments in our existence are pretty useless.
Some people are considered the ultimate fans because they were able to get their hands on the glove of a baseball legend, while others are looked at as borderline crazy for sneaking into a person’s dressing room to snatch an actress’ shoes. Nearly everyone has done something like this at some point. You might hold on to a program from a Broadway show you attended in New York for 30 years and that is simply a piece of nostalgia, but take a program from the same show that you got after seeing the lead actor throw it in the lobby’s trash and you’re labeled crazy.
I don’t have the answer to what crosses the line of insanity when it comes to collecting memorabilia, but what I do know is that the telltale signs of mental illness include photo collages on your apartment wall lit by a single red bulb hanging from the middle of the room, sleeping with an item clutched in your fist so as to not let anyone get hold of your precious material and believing a celebrity has a deep personal relationship with you despite never having met one another.
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