Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered….

So we’ve been watching American Idol. **sigh** I can’t seem to get away from it, and I’m not really sure what prompts me, or Jim (handsomely bearded husband) to plop down four hours of our week to see some good, more mediocre, very few super talented, and hundreds upon hundreds of train wrecks. But, we do it. And we are not alone.

But, I digress (as usual). Tuesday we were watching, and a woman named Beth popped in and sang some Sinatra. Beth is 28 ( I think??) and there was just something, something besides her age and that particular song that opened my mouth. (Beth is going to Hollywood, by the way. Yay Beth!)
I wandered back into the room and leaned against the couch for a second. “Wonder if she’s one of us?” I said more to myself than to Jim. “Us” meaning the women of my age group that not only grew up on a little group called New Kids on the Block (cue memories of screaming tweenys and flying panties), but still purchase solo albums from any of the ex members with their own thing going on.

The reason I asked this was because of “Talk To Me”, the latest solo from Joe McIntyre, the baby blued cutie that made me (and eight hundred thousand other girls) shriek at levels only small children and animals can hear. TTM is a tribute to Mr. McIntyre’s own all time fave, Old Blue Eyes himself Frank Sinatra. And “Bewitched” is on that album. So it seemed reasonable to wonder if that was where Beth’s song came from. Not that I’ll ever know, but it was interesting. (To me.)

The boy band rage has slowly been coming alive in our house these days, anyway. My 7 year old is slowly sinking into the craze with the Jonas Brothers. I recognize the glazed look she gets in her eyes. I recognize it and pray that there is no merchandising for these Brothers- my parents probably spent a small fortune on all of the NKOTB paraphernalia I had to acquire (or DIE! just DIE!! without it!!) and could probably very well have retired to Aruba or something, had I not needed that last hot pink slap bracelet. But I did need it, dammit, just as I’m certain Miss Lyss will need whatever version of little girl eye candy comes from this. And who am I to begrudge her? I still have everything New Kids packed away, and I still smile a little when Radio Disney plays The Right Stuff. I will embrace my daughter’s boy band love and have my own walk down memory lane as I do it. Too bad none of ‘em have those pretty blue eyes, though….