Too old for celebrity crushes? Never

I admit it. I have a crush on Keith Urban, the country-singing hottie from New Zealand who is married to Nicole Kidman. I also have crushes on Rick Springfield, John Rzeznik (of the Goo Goo Dolls), George Clooney, Johnny Depp, and Brad Pitt. And I have an on-again/off-again flirtation with Prince. But right now Keith is my man. I’m a member of his fan club so that I can buy tickets to his concerts before they go on sale to the public. I bought tickets to one of this summer’s shows during the first five minutes tickets were available. And I purchased his new album the day it was released.

Keith Urban

My celebrity crushes started young. When I was in elementary school I fell in love with Donny Osmond and his purple socks. Every Friday night I’d plop myself in front of the TV for The Donny and Marie Show. I then moved to Shaun Cassidy, former Hardy Boy and pop singer. “Da Do Run Run” and “Hey Deanie” constantly played on my record player, and every other Sunday I tuned in to watch the Hardy Boys solve mysteries (they alternated with Nancy Drew). I, of course, also had posters of Shaun all over my bedroom walls.

In 1981 the object of my desire became Rick Springfield aka Dr. Noah Drake from General Hospital. Every weekday afternoon I could watch Rick save lives and romance nurse Bobbie Spencer and in the mean time listen to him sing “Jesse’s Girl” and “I’ve Done Everything For You” over and over again.

While I dreamed of seeing Rick in concert when I was a tween and teen, I didn’t get the chance until I was 38. Once at the concert, I suddenly felt like I was a teenager all over again. The lights went down, Rick came out, and I (and hundreds of other women) ran for the front of the stage. I got a spot front and center. New to the Rick Springfield concert experience, I didn’t know what to expect. But I was quickly schooled by the women around me who had been to many shows — how he takes the bouquets of flowers women throw on stage and thrashes his guitar with them, how he comes out into the audience so that women can touch him, and how he allows one woman to jump the barricade and be on stage with him for a song — with his arms around her while he plays guitar. Rick knows his fans and how to work them.

I was not the one who jumped the barricade to get on stage, because I thought I would be escorted out and would miss the rest of the concert. (I’d be damned if I was going to miss “Jessie’s Girl”!) The woman next to me did that, and I helped her. She asked me to give her a boost, and I thought she was crazy. But next thing I knew she was up on stage, Rick’s arms around her with his guitar in front. Doh!