Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Crushin' It by Jodi Moore

I've been agonizing over this post for the past two months. My young heart was a fickle one. Pick a year, a month, even a day...and I seemed to have a new crush.


It started early. I couldn’t have been more than five when Jerry Lewis captured my heart. I thought he was handsome. Hilarious. Kind and generous. Even at that tender age, I marveled at the fact he hosted a telethon where he raised money for kids. He inspired me to help others. The world lost a beautiful man this year.


I “married” my 5-year-old crush in kindergarten. We traded favorite toys to seal the deal. Everyone called him “Joe” years later, but he’d always be Joseph to me.

But then Paul McCartney stole my six-year old heart after seeing him play “Yesterday” on the Ed Sullivan show. 



I crushed on Davy Jones of the Monkees when I was seven. And Robin (of the TV Batman series) too. Oh! And the prince in Cinderella. (See? I told you I was fickle.) 




As a forever Beatles fan, my heart rushed back to Paul from 4th to 6th grade, filled with remorse for my unfaithful ways. But then Paul broke my heart and married someone else. (The nerve.) Well, I did cheat on him after all. I believe I also entertained a crush "fling" with Peter Brady.



In seventh grade, my best friend Debbie (and Tiger Beat Magazine) introduced me to The Osmond Brothers. She loved Donny. I loved Jay. Jay played the drums. He loved football. And the color green. His smile melted my heart. 



In high school, I drifted to the dark side. I was the proverbial good girl with the perfect grades, president of the National Honors Society…who held a secret crush on the notorious bad boy. Of course no one knew, except my best friend, who patiently lived through all of my angst. One day, he smiled at me and I’d thought I’d dissolve into a pile of mush. Seriously.

When I left for college, I had a huge crush on Barry Manilow. Yes, I’m a huge fan-ilow. The man exudes romance.
 


Fast-forward to my senior year. I know it might sound corny to say, but when I met my husband, I experienced each one all over again.

Larry’s funny, handsome and kind like Jerry Lewis. And he not only has worked to raise millions of dollars for families dealing with pediatric cancer, he genuinely loves kids. (I should know...we raised two of the best.)

He still likes to play (like building sandcastles and collecting matchbox cars) like Joseph.  

He’s the music in my world, like Paul, both emotionally and for real: we’ve DJed together for 40 years.

He’s adorable like Davy Jones, fights injustice in the world like Robin and oh, how that man can sweep me around the dance floor, just like a real prince.

While he doesn’t play the drums or like football like Jay Osmond, his smile absolutely melts my heart. And our kitchen’s green, so I guess he’s not opposed to it.

Larry’s never settled for status quo, asking questions, demanding answers. Facilitating change. A fine rebel if I ever did see one. He’s even passed this onto our sons…which although it sometimes scares the “good girl”, it also makes her very proud.

And romance? Larry’s got that one down pat. He left a rose on my doorstep after our first date, and he still sends me flowers and leaves me cards for no reason, which is the best reason of all. Our first movie was Lady & The Tramp. We still call each other that.



So I guess you could say I married my true crush. And my heart's never been happier.



9 comments:

  1. Nice post! Who DIDN'T love Peter Brady? :-)

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    1. I know, right??? Porkchopshh and applesaushh forever. ;-)

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  2. Sweetest post ever. <3 And who isn't a Fani-low?????

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    1. Aw, thanks. xoxo And yes! LOVE some Barry!!! <3

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  3. OMG, the spaghetti picture is EVERYTHING!

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    1. Ha! Thanks, Patty. That was actually taken years ago in London when we visited our son who was studying there. Yes, we were eating Italian food in London. ;-)

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  4. Oh, Jodi. We've had similar crushes. Jerry. Barry. Paul (and in my case, John & George as well). I went to a dinner theater show and during the finale, Davy Jones winked at me and signaled that the rose he held was for me. When the other woman at our table grabbed it, he gave me a sad look and shrugged.
    Loved hearing about your Larry-crush most of all. Beautiful love letter to him.

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    1. Aw, thanks, Carol. (And yes, I think at some point I crushed on ALL of the Beatles!) I'm so sorry you didn't get your rose...but OH! A WINK!!! I'd never wash my eyes again... ;-)

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