Backstreet start to the highway of love

Back - Index - Submissions - - What is RSS? Date: Apr 07, 2099 Source: THE BALTIMORE SUN Submitted By: Not much has changed in the way teens monkey around. SUSAN REIMER reports. Because Paul McCartney was my favourite Beatle and because Mickey Dolenz was my favourite Monkee, I stood in line at the cable company to rent the magic black box that would bring the Backstreet Boys to my daughter's feet. She is, like, 13 years old, and, omigod, the Backstreet Boys are her favourite boy group ("NSync," she says, "is so wannabe!"). And Nick Carter is her favourite Backstreet Boy. "He is so-o-o-o hot!" she says, and I don't want to know where the heat is coming from. His picture is plastered all over the pink-and-white, hearts-and-flowers wallpaper in her little-girl bedroom, including a spot on the wall that is the first thing she sees when her eyes open in the morning. Her room is littered with teen mags dog-eared at the Backstreet Boys articles. She reads a chapter of Carter's autobiography every night before she sleeps (he's 19 - how many chapters can there be?) and she goes under the headphones for a dose of the Boys' CD before she takes the court in basketball. It's like a shot of adrenalin administered through the ears. Jessie might as well have a target painted on her back. She is the poster child for the boy group demographic: 10 to 14, with money in her pocket and the mall on her mind, and with a young heart ready for its first big crush. The Backstreet Boys, like clone hunk groups such as NSync, 98 Degrees and Five, are made up of wholesome, handsome guys of every ethnicity singing PG-13 lyrics. Their love ballads come with modest harmonies and their dance tunes come with vanilla choreography. But they are so-o-o-o 19 to the babe-ette set. Do I get this, or what? I used to write "Mrs Mickey Dolenz" on my junior high notebooks. So, when Jessie wanted to invite her gal pals over for a pay-per-view Backstreet Boys concert, I was, you know, totally down with that. I provided soft drinks and snacks, but I could have served live snakes for all Jessie and her friends cared. Two minutes into the pre-concert special - up close and personal with Nick, Brian, A.J., Kevin and Howie - and I could have set my hair on fire and those girls would not have noticed. As soon as the lights went up on the concert stage, the girls behaved as though they were auditioning for The Ed Sullivan Show. There was gasping and squealing and so much high-octane jabbering, I felt as though I'd woken up in a Warners Bros cartoon. Nick caressed the microphone under a solo spotlight for the opening of a ballad, and one of the girls started shivering so badly she had to wrap herself in an afghan. A.J. yanked at his shirt and showed off his washboard abs, and the girls squealed in unison. One was so flushed that she was clawing at her neck for air. Another wept. Even the two who claimed allegiance to Marilyn Manson and were only there to lend moral support couldn't sit still. "Mom," Jessie demanded breathlessly the next day, her voice aching with desire. "If the Backstreet Boys come to town for a concert, will you let me sleep on the sidewalk for tickets?" - THE BALTIMORE SUN Comment on this item. Next Item: Backstreet Boys Wrap New Video As Kevin Spreads "Millennium" Fever Prev Item: Spears 'Dis: A fans point of view