Crushes

sinatra.jpg

Back when my mother was a bobby-soxer, she swooned over Frank Sinatra. For me, a child of the sixties, it was the Beatles, George Harrison in particular. For my younger sister, it was Donny Osmond.

On this weekend before Valentine’s Day, I find myself pondering these teenage crushes. I never got any closer to George than a row on the upper level of what was then the Civic Arena in Pittsburgh. Had I ever met him, I’m certain I would have been completely paralyzed by fear.

It’s a different world than it was then. The young ladies seem so much more mature. Do they still idolize pop stars? My guess is it’s the preteen girls now, not the teens, who keep up the tradition.

What is the attraction? The dreamy eyes, the toothpaste smile, or just the safety of distance?

In the comments, tell me about your teen crush.

 

 

sinatra.jpg

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2 thoughts on “Crushes

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