On Being Young

Ask anyone over the age of forty about "being young" and you'll most likely get a form of this:
- A wistful, faraway glance
- A raised brow
- Perhaps a grin
- "What I wouldn't give to go back for just one day."

Last night I got to go back.

My younger sister Nikole had gotten tickets to the NKOTB & BSB concert for myself, my sister Meghan and my Mom - for Christmas and our birthdays.

I was actually an "old head" at the height of these two groups' fame - a crotchety 23 years old. It was my youngest sister, Christina, who, for all intents and purposes was NKOTBs number one fan (a term I do not use lightly - I know of NKOTB fans, know of their ferocious intense love. Believe me). But the girl was in-freaking-sane for this group. I gave up my bedroom to her mid-way through college so she could literally cover every inch of wall and ceiling with photographs. There's a photo of her shrine somewhere. If the New Kids created it, she owned it. *for the record, she was a Donnie girl.

And she couldn't come to the concert. She had a decent reason. She lives outside of Sydney, Australia. Christina - a grown up wife and mother - is so currently distraught over missing this concert that she can't even look at the photos or video from last night.

Her heart is still young.

The stadium was sold out - it was huge - and it was filled with 99.9% women. Every woman in the place got to go back, even if it was only for a few hours. They knew every word. They jumped up and down.

They clutched each other's arms and screamed louder than any concert I've ever been to (except, mind you, the NKOTB concert back in '91, in which my mother paid $500 a ticket for us to be on the floor - ten rows from the stage - one ticket was 2nd row - Christina got that one - deservedly so).

Which brings me to my ultimate point. The magic of being young (or being mentally transported back to a magical time in your young life) is rife with possibilities. Dreams. Hopes. Firsts. Being in last night's charged atmosphere hopefully awakened "possibilities" in those who've let them fall silent. Of course I'll never know. But I want to believe the experience went deeper for some.

There's nothing a good old fashioned dose of time travel can't awaken. If you keep your heart open.

For me, the experience - song after song - brought back wonderful memories. Each song flooded my brain with images of my younger sisters (Christina in particular) singing and dancing and squealing over which New Kid we loved and wanted to marry. *for the record, I was a Jordan girl.

Open heart + Dreams = Possibilities

P.S. My poor sister Meghan got strep throat and missed the concert too (booo). A friend of Nikole's jumped in her place last minute *waves at Jen F.*

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