My friend Mike Lewis just called me with very exciting news—he was cleaning up his pad when he stumbled upon an old boombox. And inside was a casette—Debbie Gibson’s “Out of the Blue.”
I started making fun of Mike in my head, rushed to YouTube to play a Gibson song for him, put on the above video—and was suddenly reminded:
A. How much I liked it.
B. How big of a crush I had on Debbie Gibson.
Back then, the big thing was “Debbie Gibson’s only [X]-years old and she writes her own music!” We were all impressed. Then, upon reaching high school, I sorta realized that her songs were deep as a dime. That doesn’t mean it’s not impressive but, well, she’s not exactly penning U2 material.
But I digress. Right now in Florida there’s a man in his mid-30s sweeping a floor to Debbie Gibson, singing along as loud as humanly possible.
We hear ya, Lew. We hear ya …
PS: Can someone please tell me what in God’s name sort of dance that is? And why is she standing in an empty studio? On a tile floor? With nobody else around? Man, those ’80s were odd times …