This time of year it’s perfectly natural to experience some general confusion. Early sunsets beckon the impending fall of darkness on mankind while basketball tries desperately to convince people it matters. College students find solace and community through the bottomless relatability pot of finals, but never enough to quell their eternal anxiety. We accept these things begrudgingly, like estranged cousins. But there’s something particular bizarre about how Panic! at the Disco’s Brendon Urie keeps popping up in our daily activities.
We’ve all had that moment. You’re walking down the frozen food aisle at Kroger, stocking your cart high with Red Baron Supreme Pizzas, when suddenly Brendon Urie comes wandering towards you with a lone loaf of Wonder Bread clasped tightly in his left hand. He throws you a warm smile, then proceeds towards the self-checkout. And you can quite put your finger on it, but something about the interaction felt slightly off.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s a pleasant boost every Tuesday morning as I sleepily sip my coffee to hear Brendon Urie knock at the door, peek inside and say “You can do it, champ!” I know that for many of us, the little notes of encouragement and cat videos posted to our Facebook walls by Brendon Urie are the only things that get us through the week. But I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something just mildly outside of the norm about the whole thing.
When I brought these concerns to the Panic! at the Disco founder, singer and sole remaining member, as many before me have, he simply shook his head in that way he does (You know the way. We’ve all seen it dozens of times.) and said “When you go ice fishing, sometimes all you catch is a cold.” While the classic motto made me smile nostalgically for a moment, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something rather peculiar was going on.
Perhaps I still have hang-ups about the musical departure that was 2008’s Pretty. Odd. Maybe I’m upset that during his tour for Death of a Bachelor, Brendon Urie failed to give “There’s a Good Reason These Tables are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven’t Thought of it Yet” the stage time it rightfully deserved. Maybe the nonstop chaos of the holiday season is simply pushing me more rapidly towards the inevitable precipice of mindlessness that awaits us all. Who’s to say?
One thing’s for sure though: when you’re stuck in traffic on the drive home from the office, it’s comforting to know that one of the biggest names in pop punk, a rock legend in his own right, is sitting in the car right behind you, felling the same human emotions of frustration and impatience that you are feeling.
Perhaps there’s nothing so strange at all about Brendon Urie’s prevalence in our lives. It may have been a trick of the light or basic dehydration that made me think such things. So next time you see the Man Behind The Pan(ic!), probably tomorrow or later on today, give him a high five. Give him a hug. Tell Brendon Urie how much you appreciate him. After all, he’s the Brendon Urie one we’ve got.
