Shaun Cassidy stole my innocence. I sat in one of the twin beds at my grandparents’ house, tucked into the mustard yellow sheets with bold black and white splotches. I sat and I realized for the first time that normal people develop crushes on celebrities. Weird.
Shaun did nothing for me. His flat feathered hair and plain “all-American” features held no appeal. To this day, I can’t name any of his tunes. In our home, we listened to Mussorgsky and Rachmaninov, Handel and Beverly Sills. The closest we got to pop music was my mom’s mild interest in Neil Diamond (Hot August Night era) and John Denver (before we found out he wasn’t a very nice man).
The origins of MTV collided in a significant way with my early teen years. I stayed up late to watch the world premiere of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video. Awesome. At that time, we could get MTV right on our regular fifteen-inch cathode ray tube television. Without a cable subscription. And MTV played nonstop music videos.
Let me say that again: nonstop music videos. No movies. No “reality” television. No “Broke A$$ Game Show.” No Jackass marathon. No “Rob Dyrdek’s Fantasy Factory.”
I cut my crush teeth on Duran Duran. Those boys knew how to make a vid. John Taylor received the largest percentage of my crushing. Is he not the quintessential ’80s icon with his poofy hair, shoulder pads, and a touch of eyeliner? Simon? Meh. Roger? Eh. Andy? Who? Nick got a little love. He intrigued me in ways that I couldn’t articulate. He wore makeup, dyed his hair, and walked an androgynous line.
Do celebrities ever obsess over regular people? Do they cyberstalk their letter carrier, vet, or cabdriver? Perhaps this is their only “safe” crush, one who wouldn’t threaten a romantic partner, because really, how could Jennifer Lopez run off with her cabbie?
I can safely love (in approximate chronological order) John Taylor, the men of the gold-medal 1984 US gymnastics team (particularly Peter Vidmar), Judd Nelson, Sting, Johnny Depp, Branford Marsalis, Bono, Peter Gabriel, Patrick Swayze, Harry Connick Jr., Geoff Tate, Patrick Stewart (“Make it so”), Adrian Paul, Joseph Fiennes, Ricky Martin, Richard T. Jones, Tom Welling, Patrick Dempsey, Taye Diggs, Angel, tWitch, Alexander Skarsgård, Wade Robson, Robert Pattinson, the Hemsworth brothers, James Franco, Jonathan Groff, Theo James, Pope Francis, Tobias Menzies, Neil deGrasse Tyson, Graham McTavish, Vivek Murthy, and Eugene Lee Yang, without causing any distress whatsoever for my partner.
There is no threat because there is no possibility.
My absolute longest crush, though, is the singular James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, the product of author Diana Gabaldon’s fertile imagination. I am not alone in my obsession. Google JAMMF. I dare you.
How did I wind up in this nostalgic tale? First: Valentine’s Day. Second: a lovely Salon excerpt from Lisa A Phillips’ Unrequited: Women and Romantic Obsession.
Crushes, like zits, do not end at the conclusion of the teen years. Yippee!!!!!
Tell me your crushes. Please.
I have a crush on the jazz singer Kevin Mahagoney. I’ve never seen him but that rich, colorful deep voice carries me away. On the rock scene I’m a child of the 60s and early 70s. I love Eric Clapton, Bob Dylon, Jimmy Hendricks and Janis Joplin. The folk singer I have a crush on now is Judy Collins. I met her two years ago and we discussed our struggles andshe encouraged me. Later she spoke and sang Clouds acapella.
I’ll have to check out Kevin Mahagoney. I don’t know how I forgot Hendricks and Stevie Ray Vaughan on my original list. I’d love to hear more about Judy Collins when I see you.
Many of yours… Brad and George, of course. But my currents are Adam Levine for the “bad boy rocker” look and Jon Stewart for “who I’d actually like to be in his presence.” I don’t remember childhood crushes.
at first I was like, Brad and George who… har dee har. I would def. add George Michael to my ’80s list.