My First Love

Well, you admit you like the game
But you’re not gonna play
You just ignore what your body is tryin’ to say
I got the feelin’ that you’re playin’
And we’re both gonna win
And I think this angel is about to sin

I get excited
Just thinkin’ what you might be like
I get excited
There’s heaven in your eyes tonight
The fire’s ignited down below
It’s burning bright
Oh baby, stay, we got all night, all night
Baby please, I can’t please
If I’m on my knees tonight

I Get Excited....  about Rick Springfield. 

Today is Rick Springfield's birthday.  Sad that I know that, huh?

I fell "in love" with Rick Springfield when I was a mere lass of 13.  I used to rush home from school to watch GENERAL HOSPITAL and he played Dr. Noah Drake.  Womanizing Dr. Noah Drake.  The scoundrel.  I used to daydream about being Nurse Bobbie Spencer to his Dr. Noah Drake.

Then, I discovered that he sang, too.

Yes, yes, everyone and their brother has heard "Jessie's Girl."  But, did you know that his career actually started in the 70s?  He used to travel in a band and played 70s type songs.  I have all of his albums.  Trust me, I know.

I signed up for French class just to learn the what the words at the end of "Don't Talk to Strangers" meant.   

I learned lots of cool vocabulary words from him.  Listen to some of his lyrics.  He doesn't mess around with wussy words.  No sir.  Not Rick.

Now, "I Get Excited" is one of my favorite songs.  I used to pretend he was singing it to me.

When I was 14, I had no clue what "spread your wings" and "on my knees" meant in the sexual sense.  I was very literal at the age of 14.   The grown woman who appreciates the possibilities of a toothless boyfriend definitely knows Rick meant other things.  Rick, Rick, Rick.  You dirty boy!

Over the years, Rick Springfield (or my wildly fantasized and romanticized version of Rick Springfield, I should say) became the yardstick by which I compared all men.  I used to have a major crush on this guy, Jimmy, in junior high because he wore his dark hair feathered like Rick.  I've annoyed many many grown men by comparing them to Rick Springfield and by telling them about things Rick Springfield has done, might do, should do, could do, would do.

Now, Rick Springfield is old enough to be my dad.  He is married and has two children, one of which who was born on my 17th birthday (or maybe it was the day after.)  His wife is named Barbara.  

I've seen him in concert several times and meeting him in person is on my bucket list.

Last fall, he released an autobiography called LATE LATE AT NIGHT (a line from Jessie's Girl).  I got two copies for my birthday.  One was autographed.  My friend Dorrie waited in line for hours to get that for me and even got a photo with him.  Lucky Bitch!  (Love you, Dorrie!)

I read the book cover to cover the day I got it.   He is an excellent writer.  He says "Fuck" a lot.

I lost some of my "love" for him when I realized how he cheats on his wife regularly, however.

In my mind, I imagined that they had a great marriage, full of love, laughter and sex.  They have been married 25+ years.  But, sadly, this is not the truth.  Rick can't keep it in his pants.

But, he has given me 30 years of daydreams, great love songs and fantasies, so I'm going to excuse his indiscretions and keep him frozen in my mind like the perfect man I imagine him to be.

At least until a real man replaces him.  

Happy Birthday, Rick.  Thank you for 30 great years!