Every time I see Reba, I like to send her a little faggy fan note. Here's is the one from two years ago, followed by the one from last nights concert:
July 15, 2008
Ms. McEntire,
In 1997, I was in my first year of community college and living at home with my parents after all of my friends had moved away. I was obese at 275 pounds and had just discovered the internet when I won a contest to speak with you personally on the phone. I don't know how in the world I got so lucky, but 10 minutes with you changed my life forever.
My mom forbade me from going away to college until she saw an episode of Oprah where Oprah encouraged parents to send their kids Away to school. I wanted to go to Belmont very badly but my mom was nuts. So I came up with a plan. I could tell that if Oprah could convince my mom to let me go away, then you could convince her that I could move across the country to Nashville.
I taped our phone call, Reba, and I played it for my mom. I know that is a huge violation of some patriot law or something and I'm sorry, but I knew the only way I'd graduate is if I got the hell out of Folsom, California. And thanks to your call encouraging me to just do it, I did it.
In college I discovered that I was funny and I got cast on the Nashville Predators Puck Patrol. I even got to be in a couple of plays with two of your nieces. I graduated on that same stage where you shot "Is There Life Out There" and then over the next 8 years found myself. I lost 100 pounds. I came out of the closet to my friends and my family. I met a really good guy who I've been with for a year.
And this season, I was the first openly gay contender on American Gladiators. And even though I lost, before every event I competed in I listened to either "I'm A Survivor" or "I'm Gonna Take That Mountain" because I was so scared of having my neck broken by a guy named Wolf who weighed 300 pounds and seemed to want to eat me.
So, Reba, it was all because of that phone call. I wanted you to know that out of the hundreds of thousands of people who could have won that contest for a phone call from you, it's good that I got it. You said, "YES!" to me about going off to college and I'd never heard that before from anyone. It taught me that "yes" is right here in my heart whenever I need to ask myself for permission.
I saw you in concert last weekend in Primm, Nevada with my boyfriend for our one-year anniversary. We were stage left and you blew us a kiss because we were so loud and excited to be there. As I sat there looking over my life and how freaking sweet it's gotten in the last couple of years, I just felt so grateful and needed to say thank-you for always being the inspiration to help me succeed. And like you said about never taking it for granted that between those two girl singers' tapes, they chose you-I'll never take it for granted that I got that call from you 11 years ago.
Thanks,
Sean
June 5, 2010
Hi Again, Reba,
Last night marked my 23rd concert of yours, and I realized something: I mark my life's progression by your concerts and albums. Creepy, I know. I also realized something else: 90% of your catalog has never applied to me until now, because it was really break-up, broken-heart heavy. Don't get me wrong, "Does He Love You" is pure brilliance, if for no other reason the flaming boat and your sick smile at the end of the video--but I had never been caught in that cheating, other woman story. Also, I'm a boy.
Last fall that boyfriend and I broke up. Every ounce of dignity I'd ever mustered left my soul in the span of a 10 minute conversation. I felt dirty. I felt empty. I didn't think I was going to keep my shit together, but I had to keep moving. I try not to think about the break up now unless it comes up in a dream or the shower. It makes me sad and I'm too busy these days to be sad, so I've kind of been avoiding you. I'm sorry.
I guess what I'm saying is, I can finally appreciate what your music does for everyone in a way I couldn't before. And I think that subconciously, I knew this concert would be cathartic for me, in a way that therapy and journaling and drugs can't be--and that's the freaky part. I thought when I heard "Strange" last night, I'd be like "mmm-hmm...kick that man to the curb, Girlfriend!"
But that wasn't why I came here.
I guess I came for "Fallin' Out Of Love", your 1990 hit off the Rumor Has It album, a song you haven't done live, probably since then..and I didn't even expect it. When the 60 year old man next to me put his face in his hands during the first chorus, and the woman with the oxygen tank next to me on the other side looked at him, and then looked at me, covered in snot and shaking, she handed me a tissue and put her arm around me, and said, "It's ok, Sweetie. We've all been there."
And it was all from this line:
But then it got even more intense, as I realized this is the first time I've seen you perform as a single person again, as a person who tried at love, and maybe failed, but who lived to tell. I'm not the little fat closet boy from 1993 who sat and watched you sing "Take It Back" anymore. My life is in full color now. And I can mark this moment by seeing your show.
This break-up is the single greatest gift of my life, thus far, because it taught me to trust my instincts, to say no, and I realized I can do anything on my own. I had forgotten that part (Sometimes "Is There Life Out There" can only do so much). But hearing you finish the song last night was a treat even sweeter. Because for all the apologies, all the stages of grief, and the slutty acts I've committed since D-day trying to measure up, the weight lost, gained, and lost again--I am better. And looking at my life now--happy, productive, honest, compassionate, so, so, so, real and full...I realize it's all because I've been able to let go.
To letting go,
Sean Hetherington
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