Saturday, January 26, 2013

harry styles

Oh, I suppose that if I were 15, Harry would be really dreamy. I hear One Direction on the radio, and I don't hate them, but I don't really note them either. Packaged pop. Tied up in pretty little boxes with flashy paper and bubbly bows. Oh Harry, where will you be in 10 years? In the aged pop stars home with Justin, et al?

Oh sure, I had my David Cassidy as a kid. And he was so important to me! My own mother says that I am only attracted to handsome men 'cause of him. Maybe. He wasn't much different than Harry, though I got to watch him on TV every week in what seemed like a very realistic situation ... who doesn't sing with their family and drive around in a painted school bus going to shows??? The Partridge Family even came to Girl Scouts with me. At a spaghetti dinner night, I convinced the girls in my group to stage a performance of one of my favorite songs: "I Think I Love You." I really wanted to be Laurie, oh, she was so pretty. But I had to settle for Danny. Well, settle isn't exactly it. I was the director after all and could have been any one of the players, but I have red hair ... especially when I was younger ... so I thought it best that I play the red head in the group. I think that I remember that we were a big hit with our guitars cut out of cardboard playing to a needle on a scratchy record. Nice.

I wonder if girls are doing that stuff now? I would love to think that somewhere in America or anywhere else in the world for that matter, a group of girls are getting together at a pancake breakfast and lip synching to One Direction. They are serious. And they are in love. It's the best kind of love upon reflection .... a dreamy boy, only nice things coming forth from their lips, and none of the icky stuff. I guess that's what makes relationships so difficult as an adult ... because no one can be dreamy all of the time. Except in pop land.

Oh, Harry.

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