He’s heard all the talk. He’s read all the mean-spirited jabs. And still, shortly after midnight on the Tuesday of your album’s release, there we stood at Wal-Mart commanding a woman in a blue vest to retrieve your CD from the back.

“Um, her CD went on sale eight minutes ago,” he vented to me as the woman went searching for the box of Kelly CDs. “I’m going to need those on the floor. We’re losing valuable sales minutes.”

Now, Kelly, please understand that Brian is not just a fan. In all likelihood, he’s probably you’re soulmate. He has told me numerous times that he would leave me and his homosexual lifestyle behind him if he had the chance to be with you.

And I got to be honest: I don’t blame him. You’re pretty freaking cool.

In a world of anorexic, insipid, talentless, problematic, tacky, self-degrading tabloid princesses, you are a refreshing breath of level-headed, complex, skilled, down-to-earth, classy, self-assured, humble air.

No one who has ever spent any substantial amount of time with you has a bad thing to say about you. You never had bad press. Then came all this business with Clive.

He tried to get you to do something you didn’t want to do. But did you go all diva, have your daddy’s lawyer write a nasty letter or lock yourself in your trailer only to answer the door for your dealer?

No. You actually gave up financial opportunities in the name of career longevity. You’re not worried about Kelly Clarkson the brand. You’re worried about Kelly Clarkson the artist.

And by standing your ground, you’ve become a figurehead for the seemingly unshakable battle between art and commerce.

Who the hell cares how this album does. (OK, well Brian does.) You just put out an impressively kick-ass CD. Which means you win. And the big, bad corporate money-making machine loses. And how often does that happen in America these days?

Speaking of the album, I got to tell you, "Sober" is a masterpiece. I can’t stop listening to it. And "Irvine" is a blissful, somber joy to hear. (Brian’s listening to it for the fourth time right now.)

"How I Feel" is probably going to be me my new favorite workout song. And "Be Still" makes me want to grab a Corona, go sit in a hammock and pray that I’ll catch the summer on one of those afternoons where the breeze is just right.

Ok, back to Wal-Mart. When Brian and I arrived in the section, he told Sandy the clerk that it was after midnight, thus your album should clearly already be on display.

“Well I didn’t put them out,” she said with a sigh. “But I know where they are in the back. How many do you need?”

“How many do you have?”

(OK, he didn’t really say that. But I swear that for a few seconds I heard him thinking it.)

Sandy made it back with a handful, realizing the fans may trickle in.

“Ya’ll might be disappointed,” she said as she scanned the CD. “I heard them talking about this on the radio this morning. They said it’s real depressing.”

(That’s about the time I heard Brian thinking about putting this woman through the trash compactor in the back. Luckily, he breathed deeply and pretended he didn’t hear her instead.)

Hearing all our talk, a curious back-up clerk grabbed one of the CDs and scanned it on one of those things that reads the barcode and starts playing songs from the album. (Is there a word for those things?)

Well, "Never Again" came on and immediately Brian started bopping. Back-up-cashier girl sauntered over, put your CD back down and gave Sandy an attitude-filled look.

“It doesn’t sound depressing,” she countered.

Sandy just shrugged. (Obviously no one’s ever cheated on Sandy.)

Kelly, Clive may think the album sucked. Bloggers may be spreading bad information. Sandy may be listening to the wrong stations in the morning.

But please know that moments after your album went on sale, there was a very happy fan of your work walking out of a Plano Wal-Mart with a smile the size of Texas on his face. All as one of your songs serenaded him, blaring from one of those things that I still don’t know the name for.

Anyway, keep fighting the man and putting out good albums. All that other stuff is b.s.

Sincerely,

Brandon

p.s. Brian saw you on Regis and Kelly on Monday. He said you looked great.

p.p.s. for Hunter Hauk: Brian wants to know what time you got your copy. Apparently, he’s not conceding the title of “No.1 Kelly Clarkson Fan” just yet.