Last Wednesday morning, I realized that there was something I wanted to tell you. Before I do that, however, please allow me to review my morning routine. I greet the sunrise from my roomy doggie bed and then step out onto a newspaper, which Dear Kathleen (the woman who helps me) has thoughtfully spread out flat on the floor for me. Each day she surprises me with a different section to peruse. After browsing the articles, I signal my appreciation by depositing my signature scent. Dear Kathleen likes to save these morning papers in a special repository next to the garage. That woman does adore me so.
Anyway, on this particular morning, I happened to glance down at a book review of David Cassidy's recently updated memoirs. Next to the article was a photo of David's darling face--that visage retains the power to move me like no other! My heart gave a flutter, and I was filled with happy memories of touring with the family on that improbably painted school bus. I recalled the matching burgundy crushed-velvet pantsuits, the Rock Star who co-wrote songs with his mother, and (of course!) the hair.
Fortunately, the reviewer avoided the twin temptations of either dismissing the struggles of former teen idols, or providing a lurid list of has-beens who didn't end well. Instead, the reviewer addressed the vagaries of early celebrity as a "faustian bargain," or as Dear Kathleen's cousins would say, "a deal with the devil."
More than one teen idol has mortgaged their future in exchange for the easy power and adoration that teens crave. Then, as the fans inevitably move on, the idol descends from their lofty perch and hopes for a soft landing. If the landing is gentle, we generally don't hear from them again for next 20 years. If the landing is spectacularly grisly, we enjoy a nation-wide moment of schadenfreude. And then we move on again.
Somehow, David Cassidy managed to avoid this either/or scenario. His landing was not gentle, but it did not kill him, either. He has managed to grow through it (like the rest of us), and pursue his interests and contribute to his world. The captivating youth has become an interesting adult. And darn cute. We're proud of him.
3 comments:
LOL! Growing up, my neighbors had 7 kids - and a converted school bus that they would travel in! Can you say "let's pretend we're the Partridges"??
Come on along, there's a song that we're singin'. C'mon get happy.
OMG, you have NO idea how in love with David Cassidy I was as a child. I would play Partridge Family albums and make up dances in my kitchen. I would stare with starry eyes into his picture on the album and dream that one day, when I was grown up, he would see that I was the only one for him. For me, he was the total package - like you said: hair, eyes, voice. . . .I wonder if he'd still have me. . .
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