He wasn't a child anymore. No, our Kevin Jonas was all grown up and engaged. My best friend, Crystal, and I almost had rug burn from our jaws dropping so suddenly at the unexpected news. We worried endlessly about what would become of "The Jonas Brothers." And no we were not 10-we were 15, on the verge of entering into license-hood.
Yes, I was the girl whom you made fun of while she rocked out to "Party in the USA" and "Year 3000." Of course, I appreciated all kinds of music-from country to R&B-but there was still a soft spot in my heart for the "classics" as I liked to call them. The reason that I loved the music sung by Miley Cyrus, Demi Lovato and The Jonas Brothers was because I genuinely looked up to the actual people behind the voice. The occasional teeny-bopper cheesiness didn't bother me at all.
And it didn't really seem to bother my parents, either. (Although I'm pretty sure they would have rather been listening to something else.) But since my music choices were targeted toward the pre-teen audience, no real resentment came from them. They had no problem buying CD's for me for birthdays and holidays and I am still thankful that there are no recordings of me screaming like a crazy fan girl as I wave the new Camp Rock soundtrack above my head.
The one thing that my parents never were willing to buy for me was the one thing that I wanted the most: concert tickets. I would stay up until the exact minute that the golden tickets would go on sale, scream as I clicked the "purchase" button, and then slump back into my seat knowing that I wouldn't actually get past the checkout page.
Maybe someday I will attend a "Where Are They Now?" concert. I could make a T-shirt that says something like "I LOVE YOU NICK!" It would stand out in the crowd, he would admire my artistic abilities, and we would get married and live happily ever after. Yes, I'm still a dreamer.
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