Darcie Maranich

Darcie Maranich


Last Friday night my husband took me on a date night to see Kris Allen, who was in town for a single show downtown. Because I was over the moon with excitement (and maybe also because I finally had something other than boring household chores to post about) I penned a pithy Facebook post to brag to all my friends about my plans for the night. Having developed the smidge of a celebrity crush on Kris Allen, it didn’t occur to me that someone might not know who he was. You can imagine my surprise, then, when one of my Facebook friends commented, “Who is Kris Allen?”


That Facebook friend wasn’t kidding and indeed I did have to explain that Kris Allen won American Idol a few years back. It got me to thinking, though, about how relative the state of celebrity can be.

That Friday was my Raytheon employee husband’s off Friday and we spent the afternoon running our weekend errands so as to get them out of the way before our big date night. As we lunched in town, I brought up the possibility of dining in the same restaurant where Kris chose to dine, and how if that were to happen, I wouldn’t be able to eat because I’d be too busy celebrity stalking to take a bite. At that, my husband mentioned that were chance to bring us to the same restaurant where Kris was dining, he’d have no problem approaching Kris and telling him how big of fans we are. The idea of such a thing astounds me; I’d rather slink off in a corner somewhere, unnoticed.

My husband sees things differently. “It’s not like I’d linger,” he explains. “I’d just say hello and pay the guy a compliment. No big deal.”

“No big deal?” I answer. “But he’s famous!”

“Famous just means more people know him than know us. He’s famous because he is a talented singer. So what? I’m a talented rocket scientist.”

I have to admit that my talented rocket scientist husband does indeed have a point. But I’m definitely the type of girl to err on the side of caution when it comes to imposing on another person’s space. Celebrity or not.

That brings me back to celebrity being such a relative thing. Take Beyonce, for example. Judging by my Facebook news feed, I would say that either you loved or hated her performance in Sunday’s Super Bowl. Half of the Beyonce related posts I saw gushed with unending praise of her talent while the other half pondered whether the Sandy Hook Elementary choir would have done a better job. Personally, I didn’t see the performance. And here’s a confession for you: I could pass Beyonce on the sidewalk and never be the wiser. I have no idea what she even looks like, though I do recognize the name as being one that belongs to a famous female singer. I’m telling you: celebrity is totally relative.

The Kris Allen concert—in case you wondered—was everything I hoped it would be. More, even. With talent like he has, it’s a wonder he’s not selling out venues like the Staples Center. Of course, were he to do that, he likely wouldn’t be as inclined to shake hands and pose for photos with his adoring fans at the close of the show like he did last Friday night. My husband—ignoring my reluctance—led the way to where Kris was greeting fans and snapped a photo of me with him. Never mind that I was too starstruck to compliment him on an amazing show. Also never mind that my husband took a tad too long to set up the camera’s flash and left me shaking like a leaf while Kris Allen had his arm around me, posed for the photo. Kris took the technical difficulty in total stride, laughing when I apologized profusely. I’m sure his celebrityhood has accustomed him to that sort of gushy behavior. Celebrity may be relative, but he epitomizes it, if you ask me.

And yes. You can bet that photo was immediately posted to my Facebook timeline. {Insert dreamy sigh here.}

(3) comments

Maria Cathleia

your story made me smile. im glad you got the chance to meet him :)

Darcie Maranich

I'm so appreciative of comments like these, Maria. Thank you!

John Flanagan

What is that name again? Kris Allen? Never heard of him.

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