Diary of a Dan Fan:
Featuring a Fraction of the True Stories of the Under Three Fan
January 2001:
It began simple enough.  A small child, just 17 months old.  Calling out Dan's name while pointing to the tv. Imagine that..all those suits spewing off facts, looking generally the same, yet this boy knew which one he wanted to follow.
Inauguration, 2001: Matthew and I went to D.C. to visit my grandmother, Gram, and to go to the inauguration festivities.  While eating breakfast, Matthew heard a familiar voice on tv.  He leaped out of his chair and raced to the living room as his new pal, Dan Abrams, talked with Don Imus on "Imus in the Morning". Although Matthew was unable to actually see Dan, and could only hear his voice, he still called his name over, and over. How much fun it was to explain to Gram just what it was that was causing her great grandson to scream and giggle..You can imagine how fast this episode was relayed to all the members of my family, Gram's friends and most of the general Northern Virginia area.  It was a while before I made a return visit.
February 2001
By this time, Matthew had added clapping his hands and being downright giddy every time he realized Dan was on tv. It was cute, but we did have a few perilous moments....
Matthew had become dangerous on our road trips to NYC.  Earlier, I had pointed out the GE building, you know, where NBC is located.  And then drove by it some weeks later. This child recognized exactly where he was and who was in that building. "Daaaaaan!!!!"  He repeatedly hollered with all the gusto he could measure in that little body of his.  Now, mind you, the first couple of times I experienced this phenomena, I was nearly startled off the street and onto the crowded sidewalks.  Since then, I have developed nerves of steel while in the city.  I am prepared when I drive by "the" building.  I also upped the Liability Limit on my auto policy.
We were staying at my brother's house until settlement on ours.  Pat is 22. Single. Not yet out of party hearty mode. A real purgatory palace, that place was. Blues Brothers and Animal House posters adorned the walls. And let us not forget the bathroom decor...just think pin-ups. Good grief. What I had to endure. Oh, and wait, I must, must include the trip to the washer/dryer in the basement. Christmas lights, strobe lights, black lights, and the must-have spinning disco ball. All which went on each time I needed to navigate the stairs with baskets full of laundry and a toddler under my feet. Lovely. So, anyway, I was already such the happy camper and often thought, well, gee, things can't get worse. I was wrong. It was at this time that Matthew began to truly fixate on Mr. Abrams. Bath time, food, dressing, playing, reading, none of these things mattered when Matthew heard Dan's voice or saw him giving a report. Believe me, at the time, there were a lot of things to report about. The man was on tv constantly. I have photos of my child, half naked, waving his arms like a madman towards the tv to inform me that his most favorite person was on tv. Dan ranked above all else...Uncle Patrick, Mommy, Daddy, everyone.
There were several incidents of minor injury while at Camp Crazy...a bumped nose, bruised knees, scuffed hands, all from racing to the tv to see Abrams.
And then there was "FP Dan"....
While at Patrick's house, Matthew started to associate his little plastic Fisher-Price peoples with names.  Of course, Dan Abrams was honored with a 3"  tall version of himself.  In case you are wondering, it is the little blond-haired tourist from the now discontinued Fisher-Price airplane.  Did you know that if you call Fisher-Price and ask them to send you a backup "FP Dan", they will?  Did you know that if you tell them it is because your child associates that Little People with NBC's Chief Legal Correspondent they will send you two?   Well, after the customer service representative stops laughing, that is. Thank you, Christine.  You truly may save my sanity some day.
"FP Dan" is a most precious possession. Matthew's absolute favorite.  "FP Dan" eats, sleeps, plays, reads, travels, and gets into mischief with Matthew.  He is Matthew's best friend.  No doubt.  When "tv Dan" appears on the screen, Matthew oftens holdsup "FP Dan" so that "tv Dan" can see him.  In case of fire, to heck with the family photos, I'll grab "FP Dan"!  (See Photo Gallery-2.)
April 2001:
I really thought the move to the new house would end all of this Dan Fan hysteria. Yeah, right. I began to be greeted each morning with one question. Not asking for food. Not asking for juice. Not even asking for Daddy. Nope. THE question, each and every; morning was, "Dan?" while pointing to the tv. I learned the hard way that if Matthew asked for Dan and if I did not actually click through the channels to look for the man, there could be serious and permanent consequences. This is now commonly referred to as "the sippy cup incident".  I was laying in bed, trying so very hard to eek out just a few more minutes of rest as Matthew was pointing to the tv asking the dreaded question.  I told him I would look in a few minutes when I got up.  Not quick enough for a child who has yet to learn patience.  I was lying down.  Arms not in a position to protect myself.  Eyes closed.  WHACK!  He got mad and threw his sippy cut at me.  it clocked me square on the bridge of my nose.  The pain.  The blood.  Oh, my.  I think I may have actually seen stars.  Two slightly black eyes and a nose that was off-kilter was the result.  Nothing else about this story need be relayed. 
Matthew developed a full-scale Dan Fan repertoire by the end of April.  Whenever Mr. Abrams appeared on tv, Matthew scrambled as fast as his little legs could talked him to the tv. Once there, he would clap his hands, point to the tv, clasp his hands to his face, grab his belly and laugh, and kiss the tv. Yes, kiss it.  Blow kisses to itit.  All while screaming Dan's name as loud as he possibly could.  The windows were often open.  Voices carry.  My new neighbors...what they must have thought....
Thank goodness Louden, the family cat, is a sturdy furry thing.  One trip to adore Dan included a size 6 foot planted firmly on her sleeping body. She yowled her disapproval but no trip to the vet was required.
Often, while on the phone, the other end of the line would hear, "Daaaaan!!!!".  My friends and family members eventually stopped asking what all the fuss was about and would casually comment, "Oh, Dan must be on again."  Yep.
May 2001:
Things were spinning out of control by May.  Matthew's obsession was giving me a daily Excederin headache.  It was funny.  There is no denying how funny it was.  Bizarre.  Whatever.  A few of my family and friends had really begun to petition me to embarrass myself and my dear child by writing Mr. Abrams a letter about his young fan.  Finally, I relented.   After I sent the note, I fully expected to get a call or letter from NBC security warning me not to ever try to contact Mr. Abrams again.  Truly, I did.  I tried not to imagine how frightened the poor unsuspecting Abrams opening a letter from some kooky mother about how her child adores the peppy correspondent.  Shortly thereafter, I ventured out to the mailbox to find an envelope bearing the NBC logo.  Surely, I thought, it had to be from some big, beefy guy decked out in badge and gun sternly advising me and my weird son to keep his fetish to himself.  Not quite.  It was actually a note from Mr. Abrams and an autographed photo for Matthew.  I managed to snap off two photos of the tot merrily showing off his gift but missed him kissing it and patting it with his tiny hands.  Mr. Abrams showed unbelievable kindness and Matthew was wound up for days.  And days...Okay, months.
The photo sparked several memorable Abrams incidents.  Two good, one not so good.
When first received, the autographed photo was carried around like Linus' blanket.  I thought it would be good to rescue the photo.  I framed it and hung it in Matthew's room.  Matthew spent a lot of time looking up at the pic.  If he were older, I swear he would have lit candles and held some kind of vigil in front of the thing.  Anyway, a day or so later, the first incident occurred.  I had put Matthew down for his nap.  He talked, often injecting the name "Dan" into his babbling nonsensical conversation.  This was so very normal that I did not think anything of it.  I heard some banging in his room.  Perhaps he was kicking all of the animals out of his bed.  It continued for a few moments.  Then abruptly stopped.  And then I heard the telltale sign of injury.  "Uh oh.  Dan."  A quick pause.  Then the tears.  I raced into the room at breakneck pace to find Abrams's photo off the wall with the glass frame in pieces.  Matthew had a slight cut on his finger to which I tended to as only a mom can.  The tears were quick, maybe thirty seconds.  Then Matthew patted the pic, laid his head down and gave it a smooch.  "Dan," he murmured.  I am quite certain that because he wanted the photo down and into his chubby little hands, Matthew threw toys at it until it crashed down from the wall.  I reframed the photo and it has safely hung in his room ever since. 

A few days later, we were in my room across the hall.  Matthew walked to his door, leaned in, looked at his beloved photo, and quietly said, "Hello, Dan."  This would not be extraordinary except for the fact that the child had never made any kind of sentence previously!  He had never said "Hello" to anyone before that, or for a long, long time after.  Just for Abrams.
His second sentence came shortly thereafter.  He was in bed, supposedly sleeping.  But he began to cry.  His father  went into the room to find out what the fuss was all about.  Matthew sat up, waived to the photo and said, "'Night, 'night, Dan".  Then he plopped back down on the bed and went to sleep.  He has just now begun to say "'night 'night" to other people.  But for all these months, it has been reserved only for Abrams.
There is one other photo story.  Matthew and I read together every day.  One day in August, we sat down on the floor of his room to read.  He stopped me and began to gather all of his stuffed animals around in a circle.  "FP Dan" was also included.  (He's always around.)  Matthew pointed at the photo and asked, "Dan?"  At first, I thought the boy actually wanted me to produce Abrams to read a story to him.  But then, after the toddler talk exchange and much gesturing, I realized he wanted Abrams's photo to be a part of the circle.  So there we were, Matthew, me, "FP Dan", the stuffed animals, and a photo of Dan Abrams, all in a neat circle, reading.  This happens often since then and it seems to make the child very happy. 
June 2001
We were reading a Sesame Street book which included a drawing of a city skyline.  I read the lines and turned the page.  Matthew turned it back, pointed to the backdrop of the skyline of tall buildings and said, "Dan."  He refused to allow me to to turn the page until I came up with something.  I finally agreed that "Dan" works and lives in that city.  (I think Sesame Street actually fictitiously is located somewhre in Central Park anyway...)  Ever since, when we read that book, Matthew ignores everything in the illustration except the buildings.  "Dan," he proudly exclaims.  Does this make my child some kind of a toddler stalker?  Hmph.
Grocery shopping.  The most domesticated and usually uneventful family happening.  Not for the Johnstons.  Somehow, Matthew got the idea that it was quite funny to chant "Dan" through the store. Every aisle.  Loudly.  Softly.  Screaming.  Sing-songing.  Incessantly.  Fifteen aisles of "Dan".  I often said that by the cereal aisle, I was about ready to throw myself under a moving cart.  And I was.  I swear, I deserved some kind of medal for getting the proper items in the cart, using coupons, and ignorning the jeering looks of the other mothers all at the same time.  Oh, and for not losing my mind.  Is it not enough to hear Dan's name often every single day of my life?  Now to hear it in the store at very, very loud levels jangled my nerves just a bit. 
There is only one "Dan".  One time, while in the store chanting "Dan", I finally had found my breaking point.  I was just about to lay down the law when another mother and her two sons came into the aisle.  Just as Matthew was filling his lungs with enough air to screech "Dan" again, the other mother addressed her son, ironically, named, "Dan".  Imagine that.  She said his name.  Matthew's jaw dropped open and he turned completely around and stared at the little boy.  Then looked at me, eyes as big as could be.  It was not hard to read his thoughts.  "WHY is that mommy calling THAT kid 'Dan'?"  He just stared and stared at the mother and her son until they left the aisle.  He did not make another sound the entire rest of the trip. I am not kidding.
My friend, Angela, has a funny sense of humor.  She brought over a copy of "Newsweek" for Matthew.  I let him page through it.  When he got to a certain two-page spread, he screamed, "Dan!" so loud it startled me.  It was a photo which included a pic of Abrams on a television set.  Angela, the funny girl that she is, also made a photocopy of the page for Matthew.  At first, it traveled to bed and then to the table for mealtimes, and back to the bed.  Eventually, it remained on his bed, to be slept upon, slobbered on, and crinkled beyond recognition.  The edges eventually wore off and it was but a small square, when, in December, it fell prey to a leaking sippy cup.  Don't worry, Aunt Angela thought ahead.  She made a second copy.  (See Photo Gallery-2.)
Near the end of June, Matthew began to see Abrams much more often as the Chandra Levy story became a top news item.  This poor girl was missing yet my son gleefully welcomed his favorite pal at the half of every hour.  Such a grim subject but Matthew did not care nor did he comprehend.  Dan was on.  That called for running, slipping and sliding across the floor to get to the tv at least four or five times a day.

I tried to turn the tv off, as I had in the past, but Matthew's determination won out.  The boy does not ask for much.  He is not spoiled and is generally obedient.  He has never asked for any other commercialized toy.  He has one thing he loves.  One thing that makes the child truly happy every day.  One person who can make him smile and giggle without ever having to actually speak to the child.  Dan Abrams.  How could I deny him this one joy?  So, he gets to watch for Dan.  Other than when Dan is on, for the most part, he ignores the television altogether.  And, yes, I have tried and tried to offer up other PBS programs, whatever.  Nothing has "clicked". 
July 2001
Some time in July, Abrams spent a week hosting a special show with Nora O'Donnell.  She is a wonderful correspondent and did a great job.  However, often when she was on the screen, Matthew would waive her off and scream, "No!".  He made it clear that he wanted his buddy Dan to be the sole face on his tv.  Lunch time was Dan on tv time.  And hour for the kiddie Dan Fan.

Matthew showed his remarkable sense of humor around this time.  One day, anchor Rich Sanchez was on and Matthew pointed to the tv and exclaimed, "Dan!".  It dawned on me that this was a game he liked to play which related to a favorite hide-and-seek book.  I played along and asked, "Is that Dan?".  He then giggled and said, "Noooooo!".  It was really cute.  Just about the time he did that, Mr. Sanchez introduced Abrams.  They had a split screen so both appeared at the same time.  Matthew went crazy!  He then once again spouted, "Dan!".  I asked him the usual response question,"Is THAT Dan?".  MSNBC cut to a shot of just Abrams as I was asking the question.  Matthew went berzerk.  He screamed and did his Dan Fan routine.  He then said, "Yeah!" and went for another round of Dan-fanism. 

Just a short while later, anchor Lester Holt was on and Matthew once again said, "Dan!".  I asked the rebuttal question and he said no and then stopped.  He waited.  Looked expectantly at the tv.  And then looked at me as if to say, "Okay, where IS he?".  When Abrams failed to appear, Matthew began to cry.  It was sad and funny when he wildly waived his arm trying to get Mr. Holt off the screen and get Abrams on.  "Moooooove," he cried.  He was nearly heartbroken.  He did not play the "Is that Dan" game for a while.
Then came the dog. I've wanted a dog since I was a child.  I wanted a dog.  I had to have a dog.  A dog.  A dog.  A dog.  Matthew needed a dog.  What child grows up without a dog?  I wanted a furry, cuddly dog to love and train and name.  Finally, the opportunity presented itself and l got a dog that was supposed to be a miniature collie.  Just 30-35 pounds, the breeder promised.  So, we brought him home and began to suggest names until one stuck.  I decided it had to do with something patriotic since my kitchen has been done up in stars and stripes for the last four years.  After some thought, I decided on Justice. I had a chair in my kitchen I had painted red, white, and blue and it says, "...and justice for all".  Good name.  Different.  I was happy with it.  I told Matthew the dog's name was Justice.  Nope.  Not according to the little tike.  Uh uh.  Matthew had already come up with his own name for the dog.  Any guesses?  Yep.  "Dan".  The dog's name was Dan.  Oh how I tried to convince Matthew otherwise.  This battle went on for months.  To give in or not became the question. I began to wonder if Justice/Dan were a mistake.  The vet gleefully informed me that contrary to my belief, the dog was not going to be 30-35 pounds.  No, she said, he'd be a large dog.  How large? I asked.  Large, she said.  Large? I asked, bewildered.  Yes. Large.  Think Lassie large. As in large, with lots and lots of hair and fangs and hair and all that stuff large? I asked.  Yes, she laughed.  I don't know what was so darned funny about going to the vet with a dog and leaving with a beast.  Wasn't funny to me at all.  Large!  I did not want large.  And I did not want a dog named Dan.  I could see if the man was some kind of a family friend, but for heaven's sake, we have never even met him.  How could I have a dog named after him?  This went on for a while, me calling the dog Justice, Matthew calling him Dan. The large hound answers to both.  Split personality, I guess.  In the end, the dog's legal name, the name on his dog tag, the name on his if-ever-he-gets-lost microchip, is Justice Dan.  How long do dogs live?  Ten, fifteen years?  That long with a dog named Justice Dan.  How hoakey.  As of March 2002, Matthew calls him Dan or Da-Da Dan.  (I think that may be Justice Dan in the making.)
August 2001
Matthew and I  went to Toys R Us to shop for Matthew's birthday.  We were at the Fisher Price section when I spotted the new Floaty Boat.  I picked it up.  just as I recognized who was in the package, Matthew began to scream, "Daaaaaaaaaan!!!"  The Floaty Boat included a Little People that was unmistakably "FP Dan" but in a different outfit.  Oh my, the boy went crazy.   He chanted, "Dan! Dan! Dan!" so much that people from around the store came over to see what the heck was going on.  We had this little parade of on-lookers trailing behind us to see why some toddler was screeching some guy's name.  Some of them giggling.  It was so funny I called my sister just so she could hear the ruckus one little toddler caused.  We bought the boat.
FP Dan and Floaty Boat Dan (FP Fishin' Dan) are now twin companions to Matthew's day.
September 2001
In the week following the attacks on America, our house was very typical of everyone else's home at the time.  We were shocked, grieved, and heartsick.  It was awful.  And, in the midst of all that chaos and coverage of terrible scenes, there was this little two year old boy racing to the tv to greet his favorite pal.  The one time he scrambled to see Abrams, sliding across the wooden kitchen floor as he rounded the corner, it struck me how everything that I had known had changed except for one thing:  This child's absolute dedication to Dan Abrams.  It was weird and confusing.  It made me smile to realize that Matthew did not understand the images blazing across the tv.  He did not care.  They did not forever change his innocence in that he could still enjoy something so very simplistic as a guy giving a news update.  It has remained the one non-mournful thought I had relating to anything with the attacks.
October 2001
Abrams was given the 4-5pm time slot on MSNBC.  It was like a gift.  Most mothers would agree that the last hour before dinner is usually the most difficult time of the day.  Moms are trying to put dinner together and the kids are suddenly cranky or wound up.  Matthew is no exception.  It has been hard to make dinner while the tot is busy getting into things and generally doing whatever possible to distract me from my nightly task.  Until Abrams got this slot.  Suddenly, Matthew was very obedient and always helpful to the dinner-making process.  He pushed his chair up to the counter where the tv is located and was as quiet as could be while Abrams was on.  Loud during the commercials, but still, I got about forty minutes of quiet and calm.  He usually did the Dan fan thing for the first minute or so but settled down to enjoy his hour.  Matthew merrily "fed" Dan carrots, apples, potatoes.  Whatever we were making was offered up to the tv screen for Dan to sample.  And dinners were zipped up a bit, too.  I even tried new recipes!  But, to my dismay, Abrams was moved to the six o'clock hour.  It was nice for a while....
November 2001
The week prior to Thanksgiving, I often related to Matthew who was coming for dinner on T-day.  Eventually, I would ask him who was coming and he would guess the names of family and friends.  I was proud of him until he started adding, "Dan" to the list of invitees.  I kept telling him that Abrams was not coming.  Still, he awoke Thanksgiving morning and recited his list, including his favorite news guy. 

I thought that perhaps he had forgotten about his pal once everyone arrived.  Nope.  We have a family tradition of going around the table stating what we are thankful for in the past year.  Everyone had something serious to say. And then came Matthew's turn.  "Matthew," I asked, "What are you thankful for?  What makes you happy?"  He put his hand on his face, pondered for a moment and then burst out, "Dan!"
December 2001
I took Matthew down to Virginia to visit with his great-grandmother before Christmas.  He was very wound up all weekend and I was at my wit's end.  Gram asked if there was anything to calm him down.  I joked, "Yeah, Dan."  Later that night, it suddenly became very quiet in the house.  Gram came out in the living room to see where we were, it was so quiet.  There, she found her great-grandson sitting in the chair watching tv with rapt attention.  I only needed a one-word explanation, "Dan."  She was quite amazed at the change and ordered me to make a video tape of Abrams's shows for when I needed it most.  I did.  It works.
This brings me to Christmas.  On Christmas day, I put in a song video bought in hopes that it would expand Matthew's tv viewing desires.  He watched one song, danced to it, and then mid-second song, went to the tv cabinet and pulled out a video.  "Dan dideo", he requested.  So, out went the silly songs and in went "The Abrams Report".  Hey, I tried.
The reason Matthew did not visit Santa this year: While visiting my brother, Jack, the subject of Santa came up.  Jack lives near my grandmother, the one in Virginia.  The whole clan was there.  Gram, my two brothers, and their families.  Jack asked Matthew what he wanted for Christmas.  Without missing a beat, he proudly said, "Dan."  I was not about to have some dime-store Santa promise my child that he would wake up Christmas morning to a grown man curled under the tree.  No Santa this year.
Oh, and the other Christmas story.  Since there is no Abrams merchandise available on the planet, I have had to come up with my own Dan stuff for Matthew.  He chose "FP Dan".  I made the video tape.  There's the autographed photo.  The photocopy of "Newsweek" layout.  And now a Matchbox TV News Van.  Matthew opened up the gift and immediately lit up, "Dan!!".  He easily made the connection between the toy and Abrams.  I did not have to tell him it was a news van.  Guess he recognized the satellite dish mounted on top of the truck.  Too funny.
February 2002
While in NYC, Aunt Stacia picked up an NBC news t-shirt for Matthew.  It is his favorite article of clothing.  His "Dan shirt", as he calls it, gets worn and washed more often than any other piece of fabric in the house.
These were just some of the more notable memories of this under three Dan fan.  As my family can attest, there has not been a day that has gone by since this began January 2001, that Matthew has not brought up Abrams's name repeatedly throughout the day.  His allegiance is complete.  It is unusual but certain.  It is funny, and, at times, frustrating and/or embarrassing.  There have been countless (and I do mean that sincerely) stories of the under three Dan Fan.  I can no longer remember most of them.  But honestly, I have had many laughs because of Matthew's undeniable joy over this one correspondent.  Mostly, I guess I have to be happy that my son has already learned to dance to the beat of a different drummer.  And that is just fine with me.
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