Fuck I’m glad I’m not a tween these days.
I don’t want to show how old I am by ranting on about the good ol’ days, but honestly, the selection of teen idols for young girls and boys to pant over is seriously lacking in talent.
You can take ‘talent’ to mean what you will; looks, or the ability to actually do something worth watching.
And yes Bieber, I’m talking to you as much as anyone.
I feel at liberty to single Bieber out, because I have a gripe with that little n’er do well.
I saw him in concert, pre-urinegate.
Sure the show was a slick one, him all hip wiggle and fall-down pants. Yes the boy can sing and thousands of girls in the audience were beside themselves in teenage hysteria, but what did that show do for me?
I’ll tell you what it did.
It made me feel damn old.
Because I was the chaperone. My daughter’s first concert. But it only felt like five minutes ago that my Mum was chaperoning me to my first concert.
Back when I was the hysterical tween, my first show was the final Wham! concert with George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley.
To be fair, not much has changed in the 28 years between the shows.
Boys wiggle hips. Girls swoon. Boys flash a mega-watt smile. Girls swoon. A female singer takes the stage to sing a duet. Girls hiss with demonic venom.
But as old as being an escort made me feel, it was also a wonderful trip down memory lane. Oh to be young and awe-struck by bright lights and smooth moves.
But even though he had big hair and a cheesy grin, I have no regrets that George Michael made me swoon.
Because there is a world of difference between Yog and the Biebs. Every time Justin gets caught up to no good, the poor wee fucker seems to dig himself a bigger hole, earning no sympathy, but a shit-storm of rage.
When George got caught cottaging in L.A, something that effectively outed him, his rebuff was hilarious and classy.
I know it’s not hump day, but in order to doff my hat to my teenage idol here is ‘that’ video:
“Let’s Go Outside”. It’s a little cracker. Enjoy.