If I were 15, I would replace the text of this entry with "Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!" Maybe.
As I left church today, I heard a guitar chord echo down Queen Street. Followed by a riff that indicated ridiculous rock-star importance. This was followed by the shrieking of every teenage girl in the greater Toronto area.
There was no mystery. I knew that chord. In fact, I knew that song. And I don't know why.
The Jonas Brothers were around the corner.
As I made my way through the giggling swarm of ponytails and lipgloss, I couldn't help but grin at the uncontainable enthusiasm for three boys with decent style and impressively thick hair. So I quipped aloud, "I miss Hanson." The man in front of me thought I was hilarious. Um, obviously.
I didn't swoon. Apparently I do have an age radar after all. And 16 just doesn't do it for me anymore. But they've honed an impressive soundcheck presence that almost justifies their rabid following.
Instead of setting up camp among the hyperventilating ones, I nodded my amused approval and made my way home. Is it really just about the music, gals? And was it really just about the music when your mothers fainted over Elvis?
Girls are weird. I won't pretend to exclude myself completely from that sentence.
P.S. Their new album is titled Lines, Vines and Trying Times. I hope they know the rhyming is a little off. (The title also conjures up an awkward image of lines of cocaine, Tarzan swinging from a tree, and a depression-era food stamp. But maybe that's just me.)
P.P.S. If Kevin, Joe and Nick (What, don't you know their names too?!) were to stand on the same stage as Zac Efron and Robert Pattinson, and run their hands through their hair simultaneously, the entire world's teenage-girl population would explode. And they would be more than happy to die.
P.P.P.S. For the random girls who found this blog by Googling "Jonas Brothers in Toronto," Nick was wearing a very nice white V-neck tee. The end.