What was YOUR Teen Obsession?

by Diane Chamberlain

Let's talk about our youthful obsessions!

          Last night I had dinner with my oldest friend, as in the friend I've known the longest. Barb and I had fun reminiscing, although we had to keep it to a minimum so as not to bore other family members. One memory everyone found intriguing, though, was the time Barb and I saw The Beatles. (Here's my actual ticket stub. Check out the price! I believe those seats were somewhere in Pennsylvania. And I was all of a year old. Ha).
My family had a summer house at the Jersey Shore at the time and several of my friends spent a few days pre- and post-concert there with me, giggling and sharing secrets and wearing our black leather John Lennon caps even though it was insanely hot and humid. We came up with the idea of inviting the Beatles to the summer house. There was plenty of room if they wanted to stay over or they could just pop in for a glass of lemonade. My mother, who was so much cooler than I ever gave her credit for, wrote a nice letter to the Fab Four so that the invitation would come from a grown-up instead of five pubescent girls. Barb and I remember the actual handing off of the letter differently. I think we gave it to an usher to take backstage at the convention hall. She thinks my sister drove us to the hotel to give to a bellman. Either way, we went back to the house high from the concert and full of hopeful anticipation as we waited for a call from the boys as to when they'd be arriving, which of course they never did. Yet the imagining and yearning were so much fun. That was the start of my obsessive groupie days.

          I became a concert junkie and had plenty of friends who fed my addiction with me. Most notably, I saw the Stones seven times before I was eighteen and even talked to Charlie Watts' (the drummer, for the uninitiated) wife on the phone once. Charlie was my least favorite Stone, because I found him old (I believe he was 24 or so) and unattractive. Now I find him hot in his golden years. Seriously, the man has aged the best of any of them. Check out this picture to see what I mean. That's Charlie on the left. No contest.  But anyway, when my friends and I knew the Stones were in town (as in New York), we'd call every hotel to try to track them down. We gave up looking for a "Mr Jagger" because the hotels were on to us and always denied he was there, but we did find "Mr Watts" that one time, and when I got Shirley Watts on the phone I white-lied and told her he was my favorite. She was so gracious. I had the feeling not too many giggly young girls were after Charlie back then.  Maybe I even made her day?

          Then I got serious about my groupiness, and this is where it gets sort of shameful. No, I never slept with anyone famous, but I wheedled my way into getting as close as possible to my prey. Before I go any further, let me apologize publicly to anyone I ever met through nefarious means.  It was the hormones and I'm sorry.

          The prey in question were The Rascals. 

  I had a friend who was as passionate about them as I was. Marilyn wanted Dino the drummer and I wanted Felix  the organist and lead singer. Marilyn and I had otherwise normal social lives with normal (well, hers was normal) boyfriends, but we had this one shared maniacal obsession. We nurtured it by going to concerts every chance we could and by hanging out in New York trying to catch a glimpse of the guys.

          Here is the worst, most dishonest thing I did. Through the network of RGs (Rascal Groupies), I was told to "show up at Carnegie Hall on Saturday night." I was with some friends who were always remarkably good-natured about humoring me, and they went with me to Carnegie Hall where the featured event turned out to be a lecture by a Yogi, Swami Satchidananda. We sat in one of those wonderful little balcony boxes and tried to figure out what we were doing there. Then we began to have Rascal sightings. We spotted Eddie Brigati taking his seat in the orchestra. Then in another area, Dino Danelli appeared. And finally--omigod--in the balcony below ours and to the left, Felix himself.

          "Bye," I told my friends.

          I went down to the box where Felix was sitting and stepped right in. The box was quite full of people both sitting and standing, so I didn't look all that out of place. I could see my friends up in the balcony and they were jumping up and down and pointing at me and marveling at my chutzpa. I kept sidling closer to Felix. Finally, I was right next to him. I leaned over to ask him something about what the Swami had just said and he responded, then offered me his seat because the man was nice and I felt like a deceitful little twit. I didn't take his seat. I just stood there and enjoyed breathing in the same air he was breathing, all the while becoming a fan of Swami Satchidananda.   The only thing I actually remember the Swami saying that night was "Constipation is caused by a lack of concentration," but I bought his book on Integral Yoga and started standing on my head in my dorm room regularly (check out the glasses) and going into the City to hear him speak as often as I could get there from New Jersey. Of course, I was always hoping Felix would show up on the same night, which he never did. Ironically, I gained an appreciation of chanting and meditation as part of a spiritual practice that has lasted through to this day. (Check out Krishna Das for a natural high).

          A couple of months after the Swami Satchidananda event, my friends and I went to a Rascals concert, which found us once again at Carnegie Hall. We worked our way to the stage from our seats at the back of the hall as soon as the concert began, which was great . . . for a while. But I have an odd phobia about large places--I can't stand them. I've beaten a bunch of phobias over the years, but this one remains. (I may have been the only kid in history who had a note from her shrink to excuse her from P.E. because she couldn't tolerate the gym ceiling. But that's for another post.) I was right in front of the stage when I began to have the "high ceiling panic attack." I had to get out of there. I burst through the double doors at the side of the theater and into the hallway to calm myself down. When I felt better, I headed back inside, but an usher asked to see my ticket and of course my seat was nowhere near the front, so he told me I had to go all way to the rear of the theater. I couldn't bear to be way in the back again, so I stood in the hallway quietly, pathetically, weeping as I tried to figure out what to do.

          A man approached me. He was really old (maybe even 50!) and he asked me what was wrong. His exact words: "What's the matter, little girl?"

          I began blubbering. "I was right in front of the stage," I said, "but I couldn't stand how high the ceiling was and I came out here and now they won't let me in again and--"

          "Hush," he said and took my hand, opening the doors to the sacred backstage sanctum. Only then did I realize who he was: Sid Bernstein, the Rascals' manager and the guy who'd brought the Beatles and Stones and the entire British invasion to the States. We climbed the inside steps to the stage, where Mr. Bernstein deposited me next to a couple of roadies, just a few yards from you-know-who on the organ. My friends, still in front of the stage, caught sight of me and stared in shock.

          When the concert was over, I slipped unnoticed upstairs to the dressing room and finally--finally--had Felix to myself, if you didn't count the two dozen other people hanging around him. I took this picture of him, 
then gave him my camera so he could take a picture of me. I was incredibly grateful for the time I'd spent with my Swami Satchidananda book because it gave us something to chat about. I asked him for reading recommendations about Yoga and he asked me for my address so he could send me his recommendations in a letter. Be still my heart!

          Afterward, I stood in front of Carnegie Hall with my friends as the limo carrying the Rascals went by. The window was down and Felix called out, "I'll write to you!" I leaned cooly against the building, while my fellow groupies stared at me in drooling wonder.

          Did he write? Actually, yes. In fuscia ink, he suggested I read the Bagavad Gita  (I dutifully did so). He also asked me to send him a copy of the picture he took of me. That, of course, was the end of that, as both he--and I--could clearly see that in spite of my bravado, I was little more than a really nervous eighteen-year-old almost-virginal girl from a state college in South Jersey. 

          It all seems so ridiculous to me now. I look at girls screaming over rock groups today and while I remember being that obsessed, I can't quite recapture the feeling of being that obsessed--a good thing, I think.  If only I'd put that much passion into my education, I would be, well, better educated. But I'd probably have less to blog about.

          So what was your obsession when you were a teenager? I know you had one. 'Fess up!

Comments

[Todd Mason]

Fiction magazines and third stream music (and a number of my female friends and classmates, but that probably isn't too surprising--as we are nearly the same age, I would've probably been rather smitten with you had we known each other). See my blog entry for today for more on the first...

[gaylin in vancouver]

My musical obsession in high school was Queen. Brian May's guitar playing and curly hair, be still my heart. I did get to see them in concert once and I really enjoyed it, my first big concert at the Pacific Coliseum. Not a chance in hell of getting anywhere near the band. I had every song memorized and loved every thing they did until Radio Ga Ga. Huh?

[Doc In CA]

I was a teenage boy. I think we all know what my obsession was.

But other than sex, I was fairly obsessed with having adventures. Some of these were rather mundane (camping out, road trips, sneaking into girls bedrooms while their parents were home) and others were more...thrilling. Most of the latter involved acts of questionable morality, violation of the law and little common sense, but holy crap, were they ever fun. And scary. Often at the same time.

I was also a movie buff and by the time I graduated from high school had seen probably 5 times as many movies as most of my friends.

[Josh]

Yeah, Doc beat me to it, no pun intended. Extreme and obsessive interest in girls/women, an interest that was only returned by a girl whom I was not interested in (Sorry, A.).

I, by the way, know someone else who was at that concert in Atlantic City. She was probably about 16 at the time. (I was 2.)

[Darlene]

I had two obsessions: Tom Milne, who was way more interested in my best friend--she had developed and I hadn't--and Michael Cole from the Mod Squad. I finally did get to go out with Tom Milne and I unashamedly, brazenly admit that the highlight of the date was when his mouth had two tongues and mine didn't have any. I had never done anything like that, but even my dorky fifteen year-old self knew two tongues trump boobs.

Does anyone know what happened to Michael Cole? He was yummy.

[nancy martin]

OMG, Diane, I am marveling at what a gutsy kid you were! I am shamefully shy by comparison. Busting into dressing rooms! Girl, I am giving you major props today.

The other thing that caught my attention is your high ceiling phobia. When I sit in a balcony, I feel as though a great wind is going to suck me over the railing and into the high space of a theater. I wonder if it's sorta the samething? That's going to bug me for a while . . . .

[judy merrill larsen]

Most of my teen obsessions revolved around a string of boys who wouldn't give me the time of day (Mark, Todd, Ron, and Sreve. Thanks, guys.). I did, however, eventually develop an obsession with Springsteen . . . which lasts to this day. Ten years ago, he was in town for a concert and three friends and I decided to hang out/stalk him at the Ritz-Carlton where we assumed he'd be staying. Two of my friends had gone to high school with Max Weinberg (his drummer) so we armed ourselves with their high school year yearbook and camped out at the hotel bar. As luck would have it, a few minutes later Max walked past us, we called out to him and he ended up sitting with us for hours, sharing stories, and talking, he got us backstage passes for the next night's show. It was amazing. We never did get to meet Bruce, but it was still very cool.

[Diane Chamberlain]

Doc, I think the most fun stuff really did just skirt the law. Risk taking, but in a safe way.
Darlene, I love the "two tongues trump boobs"!
Nancy, yes I get that sucking wind feeling, too, and under a large ceiling the feeling is that I'm going to be somehow sucked UP into oblivion. Having been a therapist, I did tons of research on this and am convinced it's not a true phobia but a visual/spatial disturbance. Whatever, it's never going away and I'm resigned to it.
Judy, I'm a huge Bruce fan too and so glad you had that time with Max! What fun!

[Kathy Reschini Sweeney]

Doc - I think it is a VERY good thing we did not go to the same high school.

Although, after getting back in touch with a bunch of high school friends, I hesitate to even use the word 'school' in connection with those years. Oh, we were learning new things every day. Just not in the classroom.

[Margaret Maron]

Two words: Mr. Spock.

[Diane Chamberlain]

Seriously, Margaret? You are so unique.

[Hank Phillippi Ryan]

OH, Diane, this is wonderful and very reassuring. Debbie Snively and I were co-presidents of the Midwest Chapter of the National Beatles Fan Club. We were--crazed. Crazed. I mean--the Beatles thing hit us when we were exactly the right age: post-horses and pre-boys.

My bedroom was covered in Beatles trading cards, which I had scotch-taped, one by one, to my blue and white wallpaper. (Imagine my mother's delight.) If Mom hadn't thrown out all my Beatle magazines, I would be so rich!

I remember feeling guilty when I decided I also loved Mick Jagger. Kind of unfaithful to George Harrison.

But you know, my mother also tld me about how she had skipped school--and eventually got into a lot of trouble--to go to the Circle Theater and swoon over and cry over Frank Sinatra. So it happens in all generations!

[Karen in Ohio]

Diane, you sure had an interesting life, and I'm so impressed that you attended so many concerts at that age. I didn't go to a single concert until I was a married woman (Chicago). I still haven't been to more than 10 in my life, despite living two miles from this areas most used concert venue. My only claim to fame is kissing Doc Severinsen on his 70th birthday at his backstage party, after a concert at said venue with the Cincinnati Pops Orchestra. Woohoo.

What really strikes me about your story, aside from the high ceiling phobia, is the idea that you could find out what was going on through fan clubs, way before the Internet. I can't even remember how that would have worked. Newspaper? Bulletin boards in hallways? Jungle tom-toms?

My only obsessions had to do with boys, usually ones that wouldn't give me the time of day back then. But on a class trip to Chicago one of my roommates found out that Jack Jones was performing in the hotel and she talked me into going with her to find him, deep into the bowels of the building. Which she did, amazingly, and got his autograph. I had no idea who he was, but the man insisted that I also take his autograph, which was surely embarrassing to him. It was years before I heard anything he'd sung. But my friend was all aswoon.

[Alan P.]

What a surprise, I was obsessed with a several long haired girls. With Facebook, I stay in touch with some of them now. Never asked any of them out, Yes I was the nerdy football player.

That would be the other obsession, Star Trek. I stopped before memorizing the star dates.

In high school I worked in a movie theater. I saw about 100 movies a year. And for two and a half years, this one twice every weekend. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0tc5UBYfx8k

Dr. Frank N Furter:
Well you got caught with a flat, well, how `bout that?
Well, babies, don't you panic.
By the light of the night it'll all seem alright.
I'll get you a satanic mechanic.
I'm just a sweet transvestite
From Transexual, Transylvania.
Why don't you stay for the night?
Riff Raff: Night!!
Or maybe a bite?
Columbia: Bite!!
I could show you my favourite obsession.
I've been making a man
With blond hair and a tan
And he's good for relieving my... ...tension
I'm just a sweet transvestite
From Transexual, Transylvania, ha ha,

[Diane Chamberlain]

Hank, I was so young and innocent that I fantasized about marrying Mick and we would both be virgins on our wedding night. ha!

Karen, I thought about that network issue as I wrote the post. We exchanged a lot of info via mail and there was an informal phone tree, which is how I found about about Carnegie Hall that one night. Would be much easier today. Today's idols don't stand a chance!

[Karen in Ohio]

Mail. How quaint.

[Mary Eman]

The Beatles! Oh the Beatles! When my best friend and I were 15, we came up with this plan: we going to catch a bus in Sprinfield, MA to the Port Authority in NYC (we'd each saved enough money for the ticket). From there, were going to the docks to stow away on a cargo ship going to Liverpool (as in England).

And from there, we would, of course, meet the Beatles. In person.

We both laugh about it now, but I shudder at the sheer stupidity of the idea. Never mind the danger.

Another group I was ga-ga about was Paul Revere and the Raiders, especially the lead singer, Mark Lindsey. I still have all their albums. Yes, albums. In fact, the very first thing I bought with my first check from my first "real" (as opposed to babysitting) job (at the ripe old age of 17)was a Paul Revere and the Raiders album.

And I was a huge fan of Gene Pitney - or as the local DJs used to say "Lean Gene Pitney from Rockville, Connecticut".

[Diane Chamberlain]

Alan, it's still a treat to watch Rocky Horror. Susan Sarandon? meat Loaf? Love it!
Mary, Mark Lindsey was a stunner. And I was also a Gene Pitney fan. What a voice! You've brought back some memories. Going to download some of his music this afternoon.

[Brunonia Barry]

I had the same Beatles obsession, though I never thought to invite them to our summer house. I saw them at Boston Garden probably on that same tour. I say that I saw them because the girls (including me) were all screaming so loud, you couldn't hear much of anything. But they sure looked dreamy. In high school, I loved James Brown. A boy in my homeroom had tickets to his Boston concert and asked me to go. I was very excited about it. Then, the day before the concert, Martin Luther King was shot. My parents refused to let me go, though it was exactly where I thought I should be at such a sad time. I remember we had a huge fight about it, but they prevailed.

[Karen in Ohio]

On further reflection I remembered one obsession, of sorts. Tony Curtis. I realize he was a lot older, and most women my age would laugh, but since I spent a lot of babysitting hours watching old movies, I also spent a lot of time daydreaming about that curly hair and those eyes. Oh, my, he was a dreamboat. Some Like it Hot is still one of the best movies ever, largely because of TC's enormous sex appeal. He was funny, too, which I've always thought was sexy.

Meat Loaf was in Rocky Horror? Can you believe I've never seen that movie? I keep meaning to rent it and always forget.

Herman and the Hermits was one of my faves. Peter Noone was so damned cute.

[Diane Chamberlain]

Oh Brunonia, you were a James Brown fan too? My parents refused to let me go to his concerts, period. I finally saw him in the 80s when I was old enough to make my own concert-going rules. He was amazing! (side note: did you ever see the movie The Commitments? You'd love it!)

[Diane Chamberlain]

Karen, Herman et al performed at a dance near my town, but the kids were so wild they only did a few songs. I've never quite forgiven them for that.

[Debby]

I had such a sheltered, quiet life. I really had no obsessions other than animals and music. Classical music. LOL!!!

Take a peak at my iTunes, and you will find about 50%+ is classical. My friends are still handing me cd's and telling me to listen to it. Heck, when I went to college, my roomies would spend afternoons calling the local radio station to request this or that since I had never heard it.

But I have always loved Amy Grant's music. Saw her at Great Adventure NJ as my first concert. Still sing her stuff as solos at church.

For that matter, when Elvis died? I knew his movies...not his music. LOL!!!

[Kellee]

I lived in the country, poor, so I didn't get to go to concerts, and with a 3 channel TV didn't watch much. I was and am a reader.
But I did have a friend whose father grew pot in the back yard and we would sit on the living room floor, eat brownies and discuss the Bagavad Gita. I thought I was soooooo cool. And I guess, for a short while, I had a crush on her dad.
Does that count?

[Nancy Pickard]

Diane, those photos of you are adorable. I think I'm even more interested in your guru interests than your concert interests, and that's saying a lot as I'm a huge music fan, myself.

Mark Lindsey was HOT. I met him once in my failed journalist days. I was so flummoxed to see this tall handsome smiling famous guy standing inches from me that I blurted the worst thing possible! I said something like, "Your new album is a lot better than your last one." Oh my god!! I still want to run and hide-- after first profusely apologizing to him. He looked astonished, and then amused. He was nothing but gracious and sweet. ::kills self::

[Diane Chamberlain]

Debby, what a wholesome childhood you had!
Kelly, the crush on your friend's pot growing dad definitely counts.
Nancy, we'll talk gurus one of these days. So funny about Mark Lindsey, but at least you didn't tell him his new album wasn't as good as his last --the way some people tell us that about our books. Ouch.

[Nancy Pickard]

Diane, let's!

Oh, lol, you're right, at least I didn't do that. Still doing the Cringe of Death, though.

[Brunonia Barry]

Diane, The Commitments is one of my all time favorite movies!

[storyteller Mary]

Diane, did you hide your byline on purpose? Nothing to be shy about. I admire your dedication and resourcefulness.
I did dream wistfully of the Beatles but never had or made the opportunity to get near them. I don't think I've outgrown it, either. I hugged Joneal Joplin at the meet & greet after _Man of La Mancha_ and gave a moment's thought to preserving the shirt I was wearing in a little shrine -- and then threw it in the wash -- I don't need a shrine . . .
I liked Spock, too -- something about the challenge of that cool intellect. . .

[Marie-Reine]

Civil rights marches.
Joan Baez.
Bob Dylan.
Getting high.
Anti-Vietnam-War protests.
Really old jeans and anyone wearing them.
The Beatles.
Concerts at The Greek.
Griffith Park love-ins with Cal.

[Diane Chamberlain]

Mary, totally spaced out on the byline! I'll see if I can fix it.
Marie-Reine, yes. Yes. Yes. Especially the jeans.

[Laurie Moore]

I wasn't obsessed with the Beatles but my best friend was. She suggested we get Beatles haircuts, so being the follower I was, I did. Bad move. Learned the meaning of "Just Say No" after that.

Mostly my obsession was trying to figure out how to sneak around with the local bad boy without everyone in town finding out. Didn't work. Apparently, the townspeople had a pipeline to my parents.

So I guess I'd say my only successful obsession was with Cheetos. They were considered contraband so I kept them stashed where they weren't likely to be found. Life was boring back then.

[Nancy Pickard]

Cheetos! Food of the Orange Gods.

[DebbraSue]

Barry Manilow -- what can I say
John Travolta
Grease
Saturday Night Fever soundtrack (movie, not so much, but did usher in 1978 by sneaking into theater with boyfriend)
BeeGees
Andy Gibb
Queen and the fantastic Mr. Mercury

Posters on walls, fan magazines bought on the sly. Had to beg to get a hook and eye lock on door because pesky little brothers would always try to sneak into my room and mess things up.

Did see Dan Fogelberg (may he rest in peace) as an adult. If you can still have obsessions as an adult, he'd still be mine.

[Kaye Barley]

Oh Diane - I love this post!
The rock star guys I saw when I was growing up were all at the Steel Pier in Atlantic City, NJ. Fabian, Paul Anka, Bobby Darrin, Paul Anka - but you know what I remember the best? Walking into the that big bandstand that was attached to the Boardwalk one afternoon and there was Louis Armstrong playing. No lines, no charge, just one of those chance things. He was wonderful! I'm still hanging out at these rock concerts, by the way - with Donald. We'll never grow up.

[Becky Hutchison]

My middle sister was obsessed with the Beatles, John in particular. She has an artistic soul and felt connected to him I guess. I mostly liked the groups and stars she liked, but like Hank, my fav Beatle was George.

I LOVED, LOVED, LOVED Jethro Tull. I saw them with my sister and her husband on their first tour in the states (we were on vacation in Ft. Lauderdale and they played in Miami, I think). Then I saw them in Knoxville TN whenever they stopped there on their subsequent tours. My favorite album of theirs is THIS WAS, which is really bluesy and jazzy, the main reason I like them. I never got to meet any members of the group.

When I was in junior high (?), besides the British Invasion cuties, I also liked Dino, Desi and Billy. Anybody remember them? They were my same age, so I thought they were really cool.

I was at a conference in Louisville KY and got stuck in an open elevator with Roger Daltry. Some girls had gotten off and punched in the STOP button. When the buzzer went off, I went over to pull out the button and started to roll my eyes at the guy standing next to me. That's when I realized it was Roger Daltry. I could feel my face getting bright red, so I just smiled and looked down in the lobby as the elevator moved. It was so pitiful.

[lil Gluckstern]

I am embarrassed to say I was an adult already when I first heard Gordon Lightfoot. I loved his songs, and the visions of a lonely sexy life. I dragged my poor family to concerts, and then to see Toronto, just to see his place of business, hoping to catch a concert there. The only good thing is that we saw a lot of Ontario also on that trip. (It was quite beautiful). I also went to school with Simon and Garfunkel when they were very nice. I heard they changed after they got famous. As a teenager, it was-surprise, surprise-James Dean, and Marlon Brando. At least, I had good taste.

[Diane Chamberlain]

Cheetos! Margaret is still obsessed with them. They travel with her to our writers' retreats. The non-puffy variety. DebbraSue, I like someone who is unafraid to admit to a BeeGees obsession. They were so good, but for some reason seem to have fallen into disfavor. Kaye, were you able to see any of the Fabian, Anka, Darrin reunion concerts? So much fun!

[marie]

Can a girl be in love with two men at one time?
Oh, yes she can.
My loves were dichotomies because Tyrone Power was a dashing, swashbuckling movie hero and Perry Como was a mild mannered perfectly poised singer. They both stole my heart.
Tyrone was a treat to be seen at Saturday afternoon movies.
But Perry, was my and millions of others' Saturday night date.
After soaking in my bear clawed club and donning my flannel pajamas I would settle in to be whisked away by "Dream along with me, I'm on my way to a star" with "Star" ending in a mellow high note.
Perry would welcome his guests and affectionately banter with the gents and ladies and I was convinced that the ladies all had secret or not so secret crushes on him.
Perry's repertoire included dreamy love songs, catchy novelty songs and the ever obligatory spiritual song at the program's end.
The jingle "Letters, we get letters" would include letters tumbling around the stage and Perry would sing "requests" from his legends of fans.
Perry's aplomb carried me through my teens and Tyrone Power's alpha male presence had tough competition with Perry's persuasive charm.
Those were golden years for me.

[Laura (in PA)]

When I lolled on my bed listening to music as a teen, it was mostly Billy Joel. But I also remember Barry Manilow, The Beach Boys Endless Summer album, Huey Lewis, and Judy Garland in the mix. I had eclectic taste. And reading, reading, reading. But I mooned over Tom Selleck. Still do. I was a "good girl", meaning boring and too timid, so I would NEVER have had the guts to do what you describe, Diane. I'm full of awe and admiration.

I was 12 days old when you saw that concert. And my daughter is currently as obsessed with them as you were then. She has "All you need is (insert a heart here)" tattooed on one foot, and now she's talking about getting "Imagine" on the other.

Cheetos are awesome. But I'm probably more obsessed with Oreos.

[Diane Chamberlain]

Your daughter sounds like my kinda girl, Laura. Hugs to her.
Marie, thanks for the Perry Como memories!

[Elaine Viets]

I was madly in love with a boy named Joe. He lived in St. Louis, too, and we dated on weekend and wrote every day. Sometimes twice a day. Not just letters on paper -- weird types of stationery -- paper plates, logs, I even sent Joe a letter using an ENTIRE roll of adding machine paper. The postman loved delivering these odd packages. This was long before 9/11, when odd packages were cute. Joe even wrote my name on a banana leaf at the Missouri Botantical Garden.
Our romance is as dead as that leaf, but I still remember writing the letters. Just can't remember a single word I wrote him.

[Margaret Maron]

Ah, Diane, now you've outed me about crunchy Cheetos, my all time favorite snack food. And have I said a single word about the number of bags of M&Ms that disappear during one of our retreats?

[Sarah Shaber]

Since Margaret has confessed her love for Mr. Spock, I feel emboldened to say that I was madly in love with Pernell Roberts, who was Adam on Bonanza. I had an autographed picture and countless celeb magazines about him. I wasn't allowed to stay up late enough to watch Bonanza, but I'd sit on the stairs and listen in!
Very embarrassing.

[Pamela DuMond]

Diane - what a great post. Especially your photos!

I had a monster crush on BEN MURPHY. Yes, you probably don't know who he is. He was the blonde actor on the TV series, Alias Smith and Jones. I think I was 12 at the time and somehow found out Ben's mother lived in Hinsdale, Illinois. I lived in Downers Grove, Illinois. A mere 10, 12 miles away. The fantasy was one day, my 12 year old self would just casually be walking past Ben's mother's house (I didn't know why - but there was a hospital in town, and maybe I'd conveniently have a sick family member....) And Ben would be visiting his mother, see my 12 year old self and fall head over heels in love with me.

Sadly this never happened.

xo,

[Suzanne Adair]

Roddy McDowall.

In 1992, I finally met him in person. For me, it was one of those "self-actualizing" moments (Maslow's Pyramid). Such a gentleman, and a fine actor.

[Doreen Mannion]

Two words: Glen Campbell. My Mom took me and two just as enamored girlfriends to see him at Heinz Hall in Pittsburgh when we were in about 10th grade. The seats were terrific; in the first dozen rows. My Mom, ever the shrinking violet, "Girls, I think he has socks in his pants!" My first LP was GC's "Galveston," given to me by my Mom's friend from Australia. I learned to play the guitar because of Glen. When I was upset that we were moving from a town in upstate NY to the middle of nowhere PA, my Mom tried to make me happier by telling me we would be next to Glen Campbell's farm. (Sure enough, we were; but not THAT Glen Campbell!)

I finally got to meet him right after he released his autobiography where he took no personal responsibility for any of his bad decisions. I returned it after I read it. I will always love his voice, however, and his rendition of any Jimmy Webb-penned tune will always be my fav. The last time I saw him perform locally, he played a JW tune I asked for, which make me cry like a little baby.

[Diane Chamberlain]

Elaine, that is so sweet about Joe. Wish you'd kept some of those letters so you could remember what you wrote. Or maybe just as well. . .

Touche', Margaret.

Sarah, not embarrassing at all! You had good taste. Pernell Roberts was a hunk.

Pamela, fantasies were so much fun!

[Karen in Ohio]

Isn't it funny how adolescent girls (and boys!) delude themselves into thinking that if they could just get near their idol, the idol would totally fall for them?

Have to say it's good to know we're all the same in that regard! lol

[Diane Chamberlain]

Doreen, love the Glen Campbell farm story!

[Laraine]

I was madly in love with an 'older man' (I was 14, he was probably 16) at summer camp, who seemed to return my interest . . . his initials were RE, and I was prone to inscribing oREo on all of my notebooks, bookcovers, and probably lots of notepaper, too, until my 'best friend' of a week's time STOLE him when I had to go home for a week for some manifestly unfair reason.
I was reasonably bold about meeting a few people, including running out into the middle of the [full of enthusiastic audience]Cotton Bowl with a boy I had a crush on--we were both 13 and wanted to get the autograph of Henry Mancini, who was riding in an open convertible limo to the center of the field. We made it all the way to the car, got the autograph, and ran back to the sidelines again, and no one ever suggested that we had done anything wrong.
I loved that when I was a journalist for a time I had the excuse to meet and interview in depth quite a few wonderful artists/actors/writers/playwrights, but I had by then learned not to ask for their autographs, however much I secretly craved it . . . instead I had a digital tape of 20-40 minutes of their thoughts!