My Lovers

This is Judge Reinhold. He is my obsession. I want to stress that you will see, "hear", read and soon become annoyed with the sight of him. I can't help it. I soon became obsessed with him after watching The Santa Clause. As a young girl I thought, "Wow, who is that good looking man in that vibrant sweater? Why can I not speak with him? Why can I not touch him directly?" As I got older, I always seemed to come back to him as though in a revolving door. This was before I realized I was obsessed. I simply thought he was fun to watch. I had no idea I had a crush on him. And it isn't even a sexual thing, as I am now older and prone to knowing what that feels like. I just want to have lunch with him. Perhaps speak with him every so often on the phone. I just feel, deep within me, that he must be a wonderful friend. I want to be his friend...

This good lookin' fella to my right is George Harrison. Now, I must admit...This is a sexual thing I feel for him. I have to admit that I am, in fact, sexually attracted to George Harrison. It all started two summers ago when I bought a Beatles cd. It was their greatest hits album, as I recall. I remember listening to it and recalling and recognizing songs from my childhood. These were songs that had been played in my house growing up, or on the oldies station. I was pleasently surprised to realize that yes, I did indeed know all of these songs. I wasn't oblivious, mind you, I simply hadn't thought much about them. My older sister was into them at this point (still is) and with her involvement I had started learning more and more about them. I got hooked. I remember pulling a picture of the Beatles up on my computer and studying it. I didn't like John Lennon (who my sister seems to like...even creepier she seems to like Sean Lennon, as well...). Ringo Starr wasn't my type either. Paul McCartney seemed nice...but it was all over as soon as my gaze focused on George Harrison. Oh my word...I instantly fell in love. It is superficial, for sure, but it doesn't really matter to me that much. When I hear his music I do not think he is "singing directly to me." That would be frigging odd. I like his music and I like that he had something else other than the Beatles.

So, as I figured out my undeniable crush for this man, I began to Google him. I remember reading the first article. I chose a Rolling Stone article to read. I enjoyed going through his history from before the Beatles and then during the Beatles. However, I froze, stopped dead in my tracks, caught my breath in my throat and didn't blink for a good three minutes. He was dead.

Suddenly, I remember November 29, 2001. I could remember somewhere in the very back of my head something about him passing away. It was like a dim, nagging sensation that was beckoning me to recall it. I don't remember what I was wearing or who I was with, but I remember hearing that he had died. I remember it. And at the time I thought, "Who the hell cares? Who was he, anyways?" Oh, how naive I was! How I wish I could go back in time and just know he was alive.

I was devestated. He mine as well have died that very moment in front of my very eyes. I was so upset. I had finally found a suitable celebrity for my teenage hormones and just as suddenly, it was gone. I will admit that I cried. I read the article and all the other articles where friends recalled his life, and I cried. I youtubed the shit out of this man and I cried. I am a loser and it may seem a bit insane, but you must understand this: I live in Florida. After the month of May it is impossible to venture outside in fear of heatstroke. I was confined to my bedroom with my boredom and my imagination (and thyroid abused hormones) went wild.

So, while Judge is my platonic friend, George is like my first love. The one that got away...