An Open Letter to Max Bemis From a Loving Fan
Posted: Mon Oct 25, 2010 6:45 pm
Hello!
My name is Chloe, you don’t know me, but I’ve been a fan of yours since the first time I heard “I Want to Know Your Plans.” Sitting on the generic two-seater couch I had become accustomed to at my fancier than thou boarding school. My friend Meredith playing me songs from Punk Goes Acoustic, the peppy fiddling from Yellowcard’s “Firewater” still fresh in my brain. Meredith paused the CD on her computer to play me a song from a band she had just head of. I was thinking about Graeme Parker who I spent the whole year “will they or won’t they’ing” with when I first heard the line “and if you want roses, you can go buy a bouquet”. I was intrigued. Who was this man-boy singing words of such disgusted love? At first listen, it was a romantic song. But when I asked Meredith to replay it and listened closely the song played more like a hopeless plea from boy that was overly dependent on a girl. How interesting. A song about young love’s torment and promise.
Meredith and I quickly searched for more music. Upon hearing “Alive with the Glory of Love” with it’s quick-drum intro and sock-hop catchiness I realized that this was another song about an endless desire to remain with a loved one. We listened to the rest of “… Is a Real Boy” in one sitting, while we tried to figure out where we could see this band in concert. Eventually, I started to notice a theme. Here was a boy in turmoil. So lost in himself that he clung to others in an attempt to make sense of the world. Just like me.
The time I spent at boarding school, grades 9 to 11, was wracked with emotional instability. Having gone off Prozac in the summer before grade 10 I was swarmed with conflicting emotions. I wanted to be myself AND be happy but the two never seemed to coincide. I would often call my mum collect from the pay phone in my residence, crying for hours with her on the other end unable to offer me solace. And when it got worse I would sneak into the bathroom late at night and cut my upper thighs with Venus razors, high enough that no one would ever see them, feeling momentary relief as blood rolled down my leg. Not stopping until the water was an acceptable shade of red. I was in more pain than I could understand at the time. Pain I couldn’t vocalize or share with anyone. But when I heard your voice, your lyrics, on that fateful day in grade 10, I finally felt understood. I was no longer the only one in pain.
I contracted whooping cough that winter, which is known in China as the 100 day cough. I was sick for a while. My father was living in Los Angeles at the time and wanted me to see a specialist there so I flew down for my March break. The doctor didn’t tell me anything and I was put on another round of antibiotics and sent home. It didn’t stop the coughing though and while my father and step-mother went to a party on the other side of the hills I was alone at home coughing so hard I was throwing up. My brother called my dad, worried I was going to throw up my own lungs, which I’m not sure is even possible, but besides the point. Dad was busy at his party and would be home soon. So, brother brought me a laptop and told me to talk to some friends online to distract myself. I logged onto AIM and I saw that you were online. I forgot that I had added a screen name claiming to be you in one of Meredith and I’s Say Anything flurries and there you were, SayAnything16, the little running man icon beside the name. I only had one question I wanted to ask, other than the obligatory I love you, will you marry me, etc. I had heard of a movie called Say Anything with one of my favourite actors John Cusack. I wanted to know what the connection was. So I asked. And I waited and waited and then finally the telltale AIM message sound. I hadn’t been this excited since I met Jonathan Taylor Thomas on the set of Home Improvement when I was 9. You responded; yes there was a correlation between the band and the movie. I was ecstatic, feeling as if I had cracked some code, willing the conversation to last well into the night while I slowly beguiled you with my mind. That didn’t happen, in fact I didn’t hear from you again. But, it’s amazing how one moment of interaction can affect you. Four typed lines in virtual conversation and I felt better. Not in a miraculous cure way but in a comfort way. I could get through this night, hacking away, riding high on the fact that for one moment our lives intersected. That was enough for me.
Which brings me to my point. I hope you excuse me when I say, I wish you would re-think being in contact with your fans. I understand how hard it must be to recover from mental illness, a lifelong process I know all too well, and hear people speak badly of you, your work, or your life. To deal with “haters” on a regular basis, especially in technological times when you are more accessible, must be very defeating and sad making. But there are still those of us who adore you. Who wish you nothing but the best in your life, no matter the decisions you make. The people you have affected greatly, just as you say Saves The Day affected you. There are still people out there who wish to speak to you, to connect with you, and not just in 140 character bursts, or for $150 dollars with a cheaper $75 dollar option. Now, you many not feel like you can or want to connect with your fans in the same way as before, for whatever reason and I can understand that, I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to remind you that while there are “haters” there are lovers too. And the lovers really love you.
My dad asked me what I would do if I woke up tomorrow to find out you had killed yourself. While I doubt that would happen, I know that none of us are immune and the battle is never ending. So, I thought about what it would mean to me if you decided to end your own life. I would be devastated, not only for the world and myself but for Sherri, for your family, and your band. But then I realized that my adoration isn’t about the physical manifestation of you but the journey that that manifestation took and how it made my own journey less lonely. Knowing that even one other person felt how I felt and used those feelings in a positive creative way made all the difference. I have always felt like an outcast. I don’t make friends easily and I have never had someone to confide in or to tell me that my feelings or experiences are valid, other than my shrink. But you, your music, your lyrics, and your experiences have helped me validate my own experiences and feelings. And for this, I thank you.
My name is Chloe, you don’t know me, but I’ve been a fan of yours since the first time I heard “I Want to Know Your Plans.” Sitting on the generic two-seater couch I had become accustomed to at my fancier than thou boarding school. My friend Meredith playing me songs from Punk Goes Acoustic, the peppy fiddling from Yellowcard’s “Firewater” still fresh in my brain. Meredith paused the CD on her computer to play me a song from a band she had just head of. I was thinking about Graeme Parker who I spent the whole year “will they or won’t they’ing” with when I first heard the line “and if you want roses, you can go buy a bouquet”. I was intrigued. Who was this man-boy singing words of such disgusted love? At first listen, it was a romantic song. But when I asked Meredith to replay it and listened closely the song played more like a hopeless plea from boy that was overly dependent on a girl. How interesting. A song about young love’s torment and promise.
Meredith and I quickly searched for more music. Upon hearing “Alive with the Glory of Love” with it’s quick-drum intro and sock-hop catchiness I realized that this was another song about an endless desire to remain with a loved one. We listened to the rest of “… Is a Real Boy” in one sitting, while we tried to figure out where we could see this band in concert. Eventually, I started to notice a theme. Here was a boy in turmoil. So lost in himself that he clung to others in an attempt to make sense of the world. Just like me.
The time I spent at boarding school, grades 9 to 11, was wracked with emotional instability. Having gone off Prozac in the summer before grade 10 I was swarmed with conflicting emotions. I wanted to be myself AND be happy but the two never seemed to coincide. I would often call my mum collect from the pay phone in my residence, crying for hours with her on the other end unable to offer me solace. And when it got worse I would sneak into the bathroom late at night and cut my upper thighs with Venus razors, high enough that no one would ever see them, feeling momentary relief as blood rolled down my leg. Not stopping until the water was an acceptable shade of red. I was in more pain than I could understand at the time. Pain I couldn’t vocalize or share with anyone. But when I heard your voice, your lyrics, on that fateful day in grade 10, I finally felt understood. I was no longer the only one in pain.
I contracted whooping cough that winter, which is known in China as the 100 day cough. I was sick for a while. My father was living in Los Angeles at the time and wanted me to see a specialist there so I flew down for my March break. The doctor didn’t tell me anything and I was put on another round of antibiotics and sent home. It didn’t stop the coughing though and while my father and step-mother went to a party on the other side of the hills I was alone at home coughing so hard I was throwing up. My brother called my dad, worried I was going to throw up my own lungs, which I’m not sure is even possible, but besides the point. Dad was busy at his party and would be home soon. So, brother brought me a laptop and told me to talk to some friends online to distract myself. I logged onto AIM and I saw that you were online. I forgot that I had added a screen name claiming to be you in one of Meredith and I’s Say Anything flurries and there you were, SayAnything16, the little running man icon beside the name. I only had one question I wanted to ask, other than the obligatory I love you, will you marry me, etc. I had heard of a movie called Say Anything with one of my favourite actors John Cusack. I wanted to know what the connection was. So I asked. And I waited and waited and then finally the telltale AIM message sound. I hadn’t been this excited since I met Jonathan Taylor Thomas on the set of Home Improvement when I was 9. You responded; yes there was a correlation between the band and the movie. I was ecstatic, feeling as if I had cracked some code, willing the conversation to last well into the night while I slowly beguiled you with my mind. That didn’t happen, in fact I didn’t hear from you again. But, it’s amazing how one moment of interaction can affect you. Four typed lines in virtual conversation and I felt better. Not in a miraculous cure way but in a comfort way. I could get through this night, hacking away, riding high on the fact that for one moment our lives intersected. That was enough for me.
Which brings me to my point. I hope you excuse me when I say, I wish you would re-think being in contact with your fans. I understand how hard it must be to recover from mental illness, a lifelong process I know all too well, and hear people speak badly of you, your work, or your life. To deal with “haters” on a regular basis, especially in technological times when you are more accessible, must be very defeating and sad making. But there are still those of us who adore you. Who wish you nothing but the best in your life, no matter the decisions you make. The people you have affected greatly, just as you say Saves The Day affected you. There are still people out there who wish to speak to you, to connect with you, and not just in 140 character bursts, or for $150 dollars with a cheaper $75 dollar option. Now, you many not feel like you can or want to connect with your fans in the same way as before, for whatever reason and I can understand that, I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to remind you that while there are “haters” there are lovers too. And the lovers really love you.
My dad asked me what I would do if I woke up tomorrow to find out you had killed yourself. While I doubt that would happen, I know that none of us are immune and the battle is never ending. So, I thought about what it would mean to me if you decided to end your own life. I would be devastated, not only for the world and myself but for Sherri, for your family, and your band. But then I realized that my adoration isn’t about the physical manifestation of you but the journey that that manifestation took and how it made my own journey less lonely. Knowing that even one other person felt how I felt and used those feelings in a positive creative way made all the difference. I have always felt like an outcast. I don’t make friends easily and I have never had someone to confide in or to tell me that my feelings or experiences are valid, other than my shrink. But you, your music, your lyrics, and your experiences have helped me validate my own experiences and feelings. And for this, I thank you.