Every girl remembers her first crush. Finding that one boy who causes those powerful fluttering stomach butterflies and that warming sensation that roses up the cheeks. All those signs of being in love.

For me, that boy was Jonathan Knight of New Kids on the Block.

The group called it quits in 1994, and girls everywhere were heartbroken. But now the boys are back with a new album (The Block) and tour, which they’ve been plugging on virtually every daytime talk show – and news of their reunion has awakened the kid in me.

It’s exciting to think that in just a few short days – Oct. 8 at Staples Center, to be exact – I’ll be seeing them perform live for the very first time. (They also perform Nov. 26, the day before Thanksgiving, across the street at Nokia Theatre.) I can’t help but wonder if seeing them again will trigger any of the same feelings I once had.

It also has forced me to recall my first big crush – and, as embarrassing as it is to admit now, my first big heartache.

It was 1988 when I first heard the New Kids. I was 6 and already signing along to their songs on the radio, and after much pleading my mom bought me the Hangin’ Tough cassette and a brand new Walkman. When I heard the song “Please Don’t Go Girl,” my young heart just melted. I knew then that I had found something special.

Jordan and Jonathan Knight, Joey McIntyre, Donnie Wahlberg and Danny Wood gave girls like me something to sing (and scream) about. These five guys from Boston had it all – they could sing, they could dance … and they weren’t bad to look at, either.

At the time I was living on a military base in Crane, Ind. (go ahead and try to look it up on a map – smallest dot ever), and since I was still so young my parents would hire babysitters. Two teen sisters: Pam and Theresa, whose giant, over-teased hair, bedazzled denim jackets and funky scrunchies epitomized ’80s fashion.

They would come over and let me look at their teen magazines that had all the New Kids gossip. But they wouldn’t take me to go see them when they came to Indianapolis. They said it would be “too embarrassing” to take a “kid.” How rude.

I have fond memories, though, of riding around the neighborhood on my pink-and-purple Huffy, Walkman clipped to my pants, earphones blasting “You Got It (The Right Stuff),” “Hangin’ Tough,” “Cover Girl” and “I’ll Be Loving You (Forever).”

My girlfriends and I decided that we each had to pick one New Kid to crush on. (God forbid two of us liked the same guy – chaos would ensue.) I knew who I wanted right away: Jonathan. He seemed to be the outcast of the group, but his crooked little smile just melted me. In spring 1990 it was solidified: I was in love with Jonathan Knight.

And my true-love admission just happened to coincide with the release of the group’s third album, Step by Step.

So again I begged my mom to buy me the tape so I could wear it out. I listened to “Tonight” and “Never Gonna Fall in Love Again” over and over and over. The song “Happy Birthday” from that album became the anthem of my 8th birthday party. I felt as if they were singing it just for me.

That day my parents gave me the official New Kids on the Block biography as a gift. I treated it like the Bible. I had always wondered what the guys did in their spare time, what kind of hair gel they used – of course what they looked for in a girl. The book also included glossy color photos which I immediately ripped out and hung on my wall. (Except for the ones of Danny, those stayed in the book.)

There was also a section at the back of the book that included a P.O. Box where you could write to your favorite New Kid. I saw my opportunity! I was another year older and wiser (or so I thought). It was time for me to send my dearest Jonathan a letter.

I sat in the window of my room on the second story, where I often went to write in my journal while dangling my feet onto the first story roof of the house. I spent hours trying to craft the perfect love letter, crumpling many pages and throwing them onto the ground before finally finding a rhythm. Is it sick that I’ve kept some drafts of this infamous letter?

Dear Jonathan,
My name is Kelli and I live in Crane, Indiana. I am 8 years old and I go to Loogootee Elementary School. Me and my friends love your music. I’ve always wanted to see you play. When you were in Indiana, my babysitters Pam and Theresa went to see you but wouldn’t take me. They are mean. You like video games and I like them too.

I was on a roll. There was so much to talk about. We obviously had loads in common.

I finished the letter and signed my name in the best cursive lettering I could create. It was a masterpiece. I was sure Jonathan would come running to my door and want to hang out with me.

I pestered my mom for a stamp, and clenching the envelope (which I decorated with heart stickers) I ran to the mailbox, slipping it inside and walking away smiling with a great sense of pride.

For the next two weeks I checked the mail every day. Why hadn’t he written me back yet? Maybe he was busy on tour. But surely someone would tell him about the amazing letter his No. 1 fan had sent! I shared my feelings of frustration with my friend Bobbi Weeks. She laughed and called Jonathan ugly.

I didn’t speak to her for five days.

How dare she? He was going to read it and he would answer me. Eventually.

But as the days went by my hope started to fade. I moped around the house, listening to the songs again on my Walkman, virtually disintegrating the tapes as I rewound and fast-forwarded through them.

Nearly six weeks went by – still no response. And then, sweet magic – a large envelope came in the mail addressed to me from Jonathan Knight!

I was so excited, my heart leapt from my chest. I almost didn’t want to open it. I took a second to calm down, then started carefully opening the envelope. What did he have to say? Did he love my letter? Did he like me? Did he want to hang out with me? Did he send me free tickets to the next show in Indianapolis?

The possibilities were endless and my head was spinning.

Finally, I reached inside, beaming with anticipation, and found … a postcard.

A generic postcard with a photo of all the New Kids on one side and a stamped signature from Jonathan on the other.

This is what I waited for? This is all I get? I had even used my special purple glitter pen that smelled like grape! And for what? Nothing.

It was then I decided I’d never love again. My 8-year-old heart was permanently broken.

The fantasy world I had created slowly drifted away and reality set in. He probably got thousands of letters just like mine – ones that were even better, with prettier stickers and even better glitter-pen writing. The magic was gone. I listened to New Kids on and off for the next four years, until the break up in ’94. But I never again felt the passion and dedication I once had.

When they did finally split up, I felt like a part of my childhood had died – yet I found myself ready to move on. (By then I had started to discover punk rock anyway.)

I had grown up, but I’d never forget my first crush.

And now I’m willing to give the New Kids another chance. Who knows? Maybe I’ll fall in love all over again.

Posted in: Sounding Off: News & Musings • New Kids on the Block |

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