Clay Aiken goes wild, throws fan from stage...

..or at least that's the first thing that I thought of when someone told me that musical performer Akon had actually hurled someone from the stage - and into the crowd - at a recent performance in Fishkill, New York.

Of course, given my initial misunderstanding of the situation, I already had an image burned into my head of poor little 98-pound Clay Aiken -- quivering on his stick legs, struggling to lift one of his inbred, overfed, emotionally-retarded Claymates with his waspish girly arms over his head -- and then hurling her into the audience.

I didn't see how that could be - so I had to have a rethink.

Although, it's pretty damned funny when you think about it. Especially the potential hissy-fit that would have accompanied it.

Ha ha haaaa - I love my imagination...

And the fact that it happened in Fishkill (known to the locals as "Fishpit") - opens up a whole new line of jocular opportunity. But I digress...

The upshot of this whole thing is that I was forced to dip my psyche into the bizarre world of obsessive fandom - just to get a link and mock them.

And it's a scary place. As I was looking at the Claymate site link above, I could almost hear the broken circus music playing in the background, preparing me for a ride on the mental instability tilt-a-whirl - followed by a plummet on the post-adolescent fan worship hormone roller coaster.

I actually have a very bad case of post-traumatic stress disorder when it comes to the rabid stalker-fandom surrounding mediocre celebrities. My life was touched by it, you see, when my best friend from high school (we'll call her "Jo") began to stalk Barry Manilow and - after achieving her goal of singing a duet with Barry on stage in Cleveland (after following him around the globe on tour) - proceeded then to stalk none other than ... Donny Osmond.

Jo lives in Chicago and had rekindled her adolescent love affair with Donny when he toured with Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreambarf (honestly - is there a more insipid show out there? I mean - you know your career is OVER when you are touring in Joseph).

During a friendly visit, my other half - B - became an accomplice to Jo's obsession and attended the show twice with her - and then lurked in the alley near the stage door with her - both times - for a glimpse and, eventually, a photo op with the toothed one himself.

I nervously played along and supported Jo's right (who was well into her late twenties, early thirties when this was happening) to stalk these individuals. I mean, she didn't seem the type to have a firearm, and she didn't display any overt psychoses or a desire to boil any pets belonging to Donny's children.

But then the horror came home to roost.

The photo that B took of Jo and Donny in that dim, confused alley adjacent to the Shubert Theater appeared as her Christmas card that year - wishing all a "Merry Christmas from Jo and Don."

And then - adversity was visited upon our home when B received the Toronto Touring Company cast soundtrack CD set of "Joseph" (did I mention career? Over. Toronto Touring Company. Over. Way over.) on Christmas morning.

And given B's abhorrence of MY musical soundtracks (He yells "fag" at me when I go on a Gypsy/Mame/Funny Girl CD bender), I was able to throw that back in his face - nicely , of course - and we then calmly negotiated the playing parameters around the gift - and managed to save Christmas morning.

The CD set - to my knowledge - has stayed unplayed since that long ago morning, tucked away in the back of the CD drawer.

Jo, happily, found the man of her dreams and married him. She is no longer stalking has-beens in the dark theater alleys of the world's major cities.

But every once in a while, when I least expect it - as happened when I landed on the Clay Aiken fan site earlier today - I feel that cold, familiar chill creep up my spine as I recall...

...and somewhere, in the back of my head, that out-of-tune and ironic calliope stalker music begins to play...

..and I am afraid.