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Everyone’s been posting their first crushes today, so here’s mine.
Four of my earliest Huey Lewis-related memories, in no particular order:
1) Christmas 1986, I received a copy of Fore! on cassette.  It was the first album I remember asking for, carefully writing Huey’s name on the letter I handed a bored-looking Santa at the Crossroads Mall.   Bored or not, he delivered The News, along with a brand new Sony tape player.  I also unwrapped Lionel Ritchie’s Dancing on the Ceiling that year, a tape I don’t recall ever listening to, save for the time I shoved it inside my sister’s Teddy Ruxpin, forcing him to sync along with “Say You, Say Me”.
Despite owning Fore! several times over on cassette and CD, I still have no idea what a fan dancer is.
2) February 14, 1987.  Huey and the News were supposed to play the Charleston Civic Center in Charleston, West Virginia.  My parents had considered taking me but a massive snow storm settled over the mountains, ensuring that I spent that Valentine’s Day sobbing into a pink paper covered shoebox full of Garfield-shaped cards from twelve different boys with the last name Lilly.
The next summer, a new family moved next door with a daughter my age.  When she came over wearing an oversized pink tee from that very concert, it became both the basis of our friendship and a quick introduction to my life partner, Bitterness.
3) When that same neighbor and I played our Little Tykes version of house, it meant I served a lump of plastic peas to an invisible version of Huey, ignoring her TigerBeat centerfold selection in favor of a thirty-eight year old father of two. In our elementary school brains, being in love meant fixing dinner for someone.
We didn’t know anything about sex at the time, although a girl named Chrissy told us an elaborate metaphor involving trains.  She also peed in my Care Bears trash can during a slumber party so that pretty much shattered her credibility.
4) I once threw a massive temper tantrum in Elliott’s grocery store until my mother bought the issue of People that had him on the cover.  I immediately took it home, carefully cut his picture out with a pair of pinking shears and it hung over my bed for several summers.  It seems like maybe this should’ve been a warning sign to my parents, that my elementary-aged friends were debating between the Two Coreys and I was mad about a married dude who was pushing forty.
That didn’t shape my future relationships AT ALL, I said with my tongue ramming through the cheek on the opposite side of my face.

Everyone’s been posting their first crushes today, so here’s mine.

Four of my earliest Huey Lewis-related memories, in no particular order:

1) Christmas 1986, I received a copy of Fore! on cassette.  It was the first album I remember asking for, carefully writing Huey’s name on the letter I handed a bored-looking Santa at the Crossroads Mall.   Bored or not, he delivered The News, along with a brand new Sony tape player.  I also unwrapped Lionel Ritchie’s Dancing on the Ceiling that year, a tape I don’t recall ever listening to, save for the time I shoved it inside my sister’s Teddy Ruxpin, forcing him to sync along with “Say You, Say Me”.

Despite owning Fore! several times over on cassette and CD, I still have no idea what a fan dancer is.

2) February 14, 1987.  Huey and the News were supposed to play the Charleston Civic Center in Charleston, West Virginia.  My parents had considered taking me but a massive snow storm settled over the mountains, ensuring that I spent that Valentine’s Day sobbing into a pink paper covered shoebox full of Garfield-shaped cards from twelve different boys with the last name Lilly.

The next summer, a new family moved next door with a daughter my age.  When she came over wearing an oversized pink tee from that very concert, it became both the basis of our friendship and a quick introduction to my life partner, Bitterness.

3) When that same neighbor and I played our Little Tykes version of house, it meant I served a lump of plastic peas to an invisible version of Huey, ignoring her TigerBeat centerfold selection in favor of a thirty-eight year old father of two. In our elementary school brains, being in love meant fixing dinner for someone.

We didn’t know anything about sex at the time, although a girl named Chrissy told us an elaborate metaphor involving trains.  She also peed in my Care Bears trash can during a slumber party so that pretty much shattered her credibility.

4) I once threw a massive temper tantrum in Elliott’s grocery store until my mother bought the issue of People that had him on the cover.  I immediately took it home, carefully cut his picture out with a pair of pinking shears and it hung over my bed for several summers.  It seems like maybe this should’ve been a warning sign to my parents, that my elementary-aged friends were debating between the Two Coreys and I was mad about a married dude who was pushing forty.

That didn’t shape my future relationships AT ALL, I said with my tongue ramming through the cheek on the opposite side of my face.

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