There is this German boy band. This German boy band.
Perhaps you are familiar with them, perhaps not.
I don’t know how their music is. I saw them once on MTV, but didn’t really listen.
Little girls hereabouts are quite hysterical over them.
They were the band Gamma loved to hate for the past few months. Her best friend at school hates them, so she did too. But there was always a certain fascination, you know what I mean?
They were interviewed on the radio and Alpha insisted on listening, to give Gamma an excuse to listen, grudgingly, and she did, with fascination.
Then we visited some friends, parents of Gamma’s best friends from back in nursery school who have, guess what, 20 posters of this band in their rooms. The friends, not the parents.
And the band happened to be on a TV show that night. The dad had a big telescope and we looked at Saturn, which was amazing, but they only glanced and then ran back inside to watch the boy band and discuss various details of their existence.
Such as which one do you like best, the twin with long hair? The singer twin with the makeup? The other one?
When I got home last night, Gamma had bought two magazines with her own money and taped eight posters to her walls, as well as dozens of smaller photos she had cut out.
She wants a CD for her ninth birthday.
She wants to go to their concert when they come to town. I told her they were just in town. She wants to go next time they come. We’ll see, we said.
She is so much happier now that she can stop pretending not to like them and just be a hysterical little fan.