Quick note: Haven't blogged in awhile and don't have the patience to try to fix whatever is going on with this weird color scheme, so whatevs, I apologize.
Childhood crushes are weird, aren’t they? You fixate on this person you see on television, or in a band or movie, (or book!) and you become obsessed. Watching them every week as if every performance they put on is just for you. Getting annoyed when you hear another girl has the same crush as you because YOU are their number one fan and no one else is. Knowing you’ll probably never meet this person, but also knowing full well that they would be madly in love with you if you did.
Childhood crushes are weird, aren’t they? You fixate on this person you see on television, or in a band or movie, (or book!) and you become obsessed. Watching them every week as if every performance they put on is just for you. Getting annoyed when you hear another girl has the same crush as you because YOU are their number one fan and no one else is. Knowing you’ll probably never meet this person, but also knowing full well that they would be madly in love with you if you did.
As a tween, my room was covered in posters. Ask my sister; We shared a room and I very slowly took over her side of the room by removing the only poster she had put up by her bed (a pink poster of Maggie Simpson) to hang a picture of Chris Osgood, or Mike Vitar, or mark Paul Gosselaar, or of the 90210 cast, or Pearl Jam, or or Christian Slater.
I've had a weird couple of weeks with my childhood crushes as of late-
My very first crush was Peter Tork of The Monkees. When I was 6 or 7, they showed reruns of the show on Nick at Night and my brother and I were obsessed. For Christmas, I received a keyboard and an autograph book and Dennis wrote something about how I was going to be playing like Peter Tork in no time (I never did). I thought Peter was adorable and goofy and he had the cutest hair. Because I was a child, I didn’t realize that I was watching a 20 something Peter in reruns and that the actual Peter Tork was in his 40’s, but it didn’t matter. He was silly and cute I adored him. His passing a couple weeks ago brought back a plethora of memories of my first concert, having our own Monkees concerts in our living room on a Saturday night and putting glittery heart stickers around his face on my Monkees albums. It makes me sad that he’s gone but I really do have the best memories of loving him.
Motor City Comic Con announced that Mark Paul Gosselaar, AKA: Zack Morris, is going to be at Comic Con this May. You don't even realize how much I loved Saved by the Bell (or you probably do. At the time it felt like I was the only person in the world who watched it). I would rush home from school every single day to sit in my office (the couch) to watch reruns for hours and eat potato chips and drink Coke, all while staring googly eyed at Zack Morris. I was devastated when him and Kelly broke up like it was MY actual relationship. When he took her to prom in jeans and a sweatshirt and danced with her outside even though she didn't have the money to buy a dress? Swoon. This is the first time I have actually considered paying the absurd amount of money they charge at these things for a photo op. I'm still debating. I feel like I need to do it. Tween Sarah would be so pissed at 38 year old Sarah if she didn't, right?
This past weekend it was announced that there is supposed to be a television version of The Sandlot with the original cast (MIKE VITAR!) set in the 80's. When I was 13, my best friend and I sent a care package full of love letters and poems and a (her) bra to Mike Vitar. I'm sure he didn't think we were crazy at all. Right? I still remember walking up to the post office and mailing the box. We were so giddy about that box. We totally thought it would make him fall in love with us.
Speaking of tween Sarah...As I became a tween and 90210 was all the rage, I struggled with whether it was cool to like it or not. I secretly loved the show but didn’t want anyone to make fun of me for liking it... even though EVERYONE loved it at the time (tweendom is a weird time, guys. Lots of things going on in your head that don’t make sense.) Anyway, I had 90210 shirts and calendars and buttons and folders and a pillow with Dylan McKay’s face on it. I eventually decided that Brandon was my favorite because Dylan was a bad boy and he drank and did drugs and the worst thing Brandon did was gamble... except for when that tramp Emily Valentine secretly slipped him some E and he got high, but that wasn't his fault! (Hey, they didn’t call me goody two shoes in school for nothing!) Bad boyness aside, there was no denying how handsome Luke perry was and as angry as I was at him for breaking Brenda’s heart; “I hate both of you! Never talk to me again!”, I knew he was the one who truly belonged with Kelly (Brandon belonged with Susan Keats and in my mind, they eventually got back together after she left him for that job in Washington DC and broke his heart). Seeing Luke pop up over the years in movies (Buffy the vampire slayer) and videos (The Killers) and the hallmark channel (Love in Paradise) and eventually on my beloved Riverdale as Archie’s dad, Fred Jones, made my heart happy. He was so good on Riverdale. So. Good. He was my favorite part of the show (along with Jughead) and I loved seeing him be the father figure to Archie. I once again looked forward to watching him on my television every week.
It’s not fair that he was only 52. It’s not fair that his family has to endure this. It’s not fair that the generation who grew up with him all feel like part of their childhood has died. It’s not fair that this new generation of kids and adults who just rediscovered his talents have to go on without him now.
It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.
Pop culture is this fantastic escape for us. This alt reality where we turn our brains off for an hour or two (or 6) every night. We relate to these characters who don’t actually exist and root for them like they are our best friends. We invest our time in them and don’t necessarily expect anything in return, other than to be entertained. And when that escape turns real and we lose those people or those characters it’s so hard to process. We don’t know these people but we feel like we do and we are devastated just the same when they are gone. It sucks you guys. It sucks.
A few years ago Carrie and I held a Facebook poll: Dylan McKay or Brandon Walsh? If I remember right, I think Carrie won. And now, I will take this time (many years later) to graciously concede my defeat. Dylan McKay was superior to Brandon Walsh.
I mourn with all of you out there today. He was too young and it was too soon and damnit, it’s just not fair.
