I've made little secret of the fact that, when it comes to imaginary lovin', I've got it bad for the rockers. Be it Bono, with whom I recently celebrated my 18th imaginary wedding anniversary (and have mentioned in nearly 20 posts), to my lusty affair with Dave Grohl (who has, to date, earned only four love letters but is worthy of so many more), men who can sing me a song and maybe strum a few chords while doing so have me doodling hearts with our initials in the middle all over my Trapper Keeper. My first and most loyal imaginary rocker boyfriend is, was, and always will be Rick Springfield, to whom I must now apologize for I've only mentioned him here twice and once was only in passing (though it was to explain how I used to rank boys I thought were cute based on their Rick Springfield'ness). I'm sure he forgives me, though, because RS + FADKOG = 2rue luv 4ever! My husband, who has no room to talk smack to me because he came to our marriage with a dowry of Sheena Easton cassettes, knows what kind of fool am I for Rick. From time to time he makes me get excited by reciting Rick's lyrical mastery in my ear when he wants to bop' til he drops. This past weekend, he called me over to him and gave me his blessing to have an affair of the heart with my musica man when he presented me with tickets to see my boyfriend this summer when he comes to town.
I'm not going to lie. I squealed. I squealed big time. Perhaps hopped up and down.
Rocking directly stage right and close enough for him to sweat on me when he launches into Jessie's Girl, Rick will know that I've been watching him with these eyes for years, and if he wants a go, I'd be willing to be lovin' him with this body. He wants to love somebody? That's me in the 11th row, honey. Sure, I'm a tough little sister, but I'll settle for a mister tonight. Which means I should go to bed and see about the Tool Man (who has respect for my dear RS because he did a one shot appearance on the original Battlestar Galactica as Zac, the brother of Starbuck, and thus gives me his blessing to run away with him. As if I needed the go from Mr. Sheena Easton Is Highly Under Appreciated As An Artist. Pfft!). He thinks that coming through with a great Mother's Day present this year means he's done everything for me, and thus is deserving of some human touch.
Labels: paging Dr. Noah Drake, STAT