When I was going through my teen years and I should preface with early teens, I battled all the usual problems. Zits, the joys of puberty and many many crushes and obssive readings of Bop and Tiger Beat magazine.
Among my crushes, one stood out. Kirk Cameron of Growing Pain fame. In retrospect, I can't be sure what the attraction was. Was it the crazy curly hair? The boy next door look compiled with the lack of facial hair?
I can't be sure. All I know is that Kirk Cameron is the only celebrity that I ever wrote a fan letter to. In my defense, I was 11 or 12 at the time, and this was before he turned all religious. His face plastered every available surface in my bedroom and I'd spend my allowance every week buying the newest issue of BOP, so I could coat more walls and obsess a little more.
"Kirk washing a car. Kirk eating a hamburger. Kirk laying on his bed, staring at the wall."
WTF? I guess I was just a normal pre teen. I had crushes on real boys in my classes too, but my heart melted every week with that Growing Pain theme song.
I don't really get that thrilled anymore. I'm more interested in meeting real people, but I can still appreciate a man with a little throwdown. More on this later.