My brother and I were sorting through old photo albums the other day and reliving some of our most regretable fashion and hair decisions of the late 80s and early 90s. One set of photos brought me back to the single greatest moment of my childhood: going to my first concert, New Kids on the Block.
This was an ironic set of photos to come across as I had recently told a group of coworkers that this was my first how during a Zoom meeting. The host asked us to go around and discuss what some of our first concerts were. I love these questions, you get a little glimpse into the past of your coworkers, and I love me some tea. When the conversation started to wind down, someone asked “does anyone have an embarrassing one, like New Kids on the Block?” Well sir, thank you for asking, because while that was my first concert, I am so far from embarrassed.
Travel back in time with me will you? Summer of 1990, I was 11 years old on the cusp of turning 12. For some reason, I felt like 12 was the peak of coolness. It would be the last year of my childhood as far as I was concerned. I was about to enter junior high which meant my classes would be on the newly renovated 3rd floor of my Catholic elementary school, and a slightly elevated version of my school uniform would now be available to us upperclasswomen: a skirt and cardigan option instead of the classic jumper. What a time to be alive! Shit was about to get REAL for me. Attending this concert was going to be my first introduction into that young adult teen life that I’d been reading about in BOP and Tiger Beat and I was counting down the days.
I had received the concert tickets from my aunt Peggy for my birthday. Peggy will get another entire blog post dedicated to her fucking bad assery, but I will just say she was the most entertaining person I had ever met at this point in my young life and I was obsessed with her. To make this event even more spectacular, her sons, my hilarious and epitome of cool 20 something year old cousins were coming with us and we would be traveling by limo to Foxboro Stadium to sit in the 10th row. Let me just say that as a very poor kid who grew up with next to nothing – this was Kardashian level shit. I had arrived.
Not not to be outdone in the cool aunt department, Peggy’s sister Mamie took me shopping for the big event. We picked out a black and white polka dot one piece ensemble with black patent leather kitten heels and an anklet. What a scandal. Let me tell you how good all of this was about to look with my short asymetrical Salt N Peppa inspired haircut, acne, giant glasses and braces. Jordan Knight was about to be astonished by my beauty.
We got on the road early so the limo could drive around town and look for any of my friends houses so I could beep and wave, because, I was a celebrity. As we got on the highway we encountered many other limos with home made signs displaying their love for Joey and Donnie and I felt like I had found my tribe. As the limo slowed to a stop to sit in concert traffic, the limo beside me rolled down a back window to allow the very cute group of teenage boys to pop their heads out for some air. I rolled my window down because they needed to see “all of this” and they erupted in laughter and gagging gestures as well as words I had become very used to by that point as a young slightly hideous ginger. This was how most boys responded to me at that age and I wasn’t about to let typical haters ruin my night, they couldn’t steal my sunshine because fuck them.
We finally arrived and it was pure magic. PURE MAGIC. When Jordan, Joey, Danny, Donnie and Jon took the stage I experienced every single emotion and then a few more. I could not stop crying happy sobs…it was so overwhelming. I belted out every single word and jumped up and down for hours. The only time I stopped yelling and jumping was to witness my aunt try to fight the girls behind me who yelled at me to put my giant poster board down. No ma’am I will not, Jordan needs to know how much I love him; this glitter took hours to create the perfect cursive message, you will just have to deal. She did NOT want to deal, at all. In typical Aunt Peggy fashion, she informed the one mouthy girl that if she spoke to us one more time she would rip her eyeballs out and feed them to her, so on I proceeded with my sign holding euphoria knowing damn well Peggy would make good on that promise. What a legend.
Even though I have many amazing memories of other shows I’ve seen since, I can remember that night 30 years ago like it was yesterday. And you’d better believe I continue to see them in concert every time they tour and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future the very second when concerts become a thing again. These days I attend their shows with my group of girlfriends who share that same sense of pride and love for that time in our lives. It takes us back and brings us all together in an indescribable way. So yes, New Kids was my first show, but no I can’t say I have an embarrassing first concert story. I have an epic tale. Sorry if it’s not cool enough for the elite music listeners out there, but I have never been cool anyway and that’s just fine with me, I’m completely happy with my basic, lame, dorky and all the other words I’ve heard, taste. I think Sheryl Crow said it best “if it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad”.
Where Was I Going With This? 