For a long time now, Street has wanted to find a story with grit. We wanted something meaty, something our readers could sink their teeth into, walking away with a broader view of the world we live in.
Failing that--lacking the time, money and initiative, our editors found a couple of free Backstreet Boys tickets and plenty of Jack Daniels, enough of both to go undercover at the Tweeter Center and into the seedy underbelly of the junior high, pop-star obsessed braces wearing, Wet Seal shoppin,' not old enough for a learner's permit, 12 year old girl.
Preparing for the concert was a lesson in adolecesnce in itself. We located a current issue of Seventeen (the magazine of choice for boy band-obesessed girls) and as per their recommendations, dug out our shortest shorts and tightest t-shirts. Several shots of JD later, we were ready to go.
Upon arrival our expections of a mob of pint sized Brittany Spears are ruined. We are shocked and yes a little chagrined at the number of older women (and assorted men - harassed fathers one can only hope ...) hanging out in the orchestra section. Yes we know we are slowly inching our own way towards menopause but come on some of these chicks could have been my mom...wait I think that is my mom.
What gives the Backstreet Boys the kind of animal magnetism to draw women twice their age?
To quote one middle aged reveler, "Gee I'll bet my girls would have liked this show." Sure they would have if their mom hadn't stolen their tickets. What does send thirty year-old women to see the Backstreet Boys instead of sending their daughters? "That blond one - he has a cute butt." Oh my!
Clearly not too drunk to lose our sense of selves, we set out to do what we do best, pick up boys. The nice event staff guy who showed us to our seats was a cutie, and he was sixteen! He was also the only man under the age of 40, without children and/or a pedaphilia problem in the entire center. Whatever--it's not cradle-robbing if he's old enough to drive.
Apparently things have changed since we experienced puberty. Compare these times to our own youths and the original boy band - the New Kids On The Block (NKOTB to the cool and hip among us) . We certainly never wore daisy dukes to their concerts. We couldn't get them past our parents until we were at least sixteen. And while we did have NKOTB posters, t-shirts, dolls, and uhm maybe even bedsheets, and curtains, we certainly never had their pictures on our cell phone and pagers and spiffy instant messaging devices. Then again, we just didn't have cell phones and pagers and spiffy instant messaging devices.
In all fairness to the modern twelve year-old teeny bopper, however, some things will reall y never change. We could spit out the names and vital stats of the members of NKOTB (Donny, Danny, Jordan, Joey, and Jon) as easily as today's pre-adolescent girls can for the members of 98 Degrees, N Sync, O-Town, Five, and of course the Backstreet Boys. Granted we only had five boys to idolize. Obessing over twenty-five is a different story altogether ...
