My First Crush

I was raised in an ultra-conservative home. There were four of us, two brothers above me, and one below me. An eight and nine-year spread between me and my older brothers allowed me to hear the great music of their age. I was not allowed to listen to any popular music or purchase any albums. My girlfriends had all the teen idol magazines and top ten albums so I would hang out with them and listen to Michael Jackson, Billy Joel, John Cougar Mellencamp, and all the rest.

Regardless of having access to the top 40 hits, I still liked the oldies coming from my brother’s stereo. One evening while sitting in my room doing homework, my brother left his radio on, and the song I heard mesmerized me, “Julie, Julie, Julie do ya’ love me? Julie, Julie, Julie do ya’ care?” What was this song? “Julie, Julie, are ya’ thinkin’ of me? Julie, Julie will ya’ still be there?” My name was not Julie, but I was determined that whoever was singing was some guy I did love, I did care, I was thinking about, and I would be there."

Never having had a crush before I was not sure what all these emotions and feelings were. My mouth was dry, my hands sweaty, yet I was going to find out who belonged to that voice. My brother turned off his radio.

“HEY – turn that back on, I was listening to that!” I said.

“It’s my radio and that’s a stupid song.” My brother said.

“Who sang that – who was that?” I asked him.

“Don’t know, don’t care.” He responded as he walked out of his room.

I had to find out who that singer was. My oldest brother was around so I asked him if he knew who sang that song.

“That was sung by a guy from the sixties, Bobby Sherman.” He said.

Oh my goodness. I had to learn all I could about Bobby Sherman. Time for a trip to the library. Nothing in the card catalog, but they had albums you could borrow. Looking through the records I found one, this one had his picture on it. Whoa – this was the guy. Bobby Sherman was the man I would love for the rest of my life. His brown hair and bright white smile – oh I could hardly breathe.

Putting my name in the lyrics of any of his songs was heaven. Cathy, Cathy, Cathy do ya’ love me? YES!, Cathy, Cathy, Cathy do ya’ care? YES!, Cathy Cathy are ya’ thinkin’ of me? EVERY DAY! Cathy, Cathy will ya’ still be there? OH BABY!! I was in love, forever. As I listened to this album my mind left my body and became one with the music. My soul danced around the room as I laid back on my bed becoming one with Bobby Sherman.

While awake I daydreamed of life as Mrs. Bobby Sherman, when sleeping my dreams were all about Bobby Sherman. I was obsessed with my secret crush. Someday I would meet him and he would tell me all his songs were written for me and about me. My crush was ridiculous.

As I grew older, there were many other crushes, celebrity, and otherwise. None were better than my first, Bobby Sherman. Later in his life, he retired from singing and became an Emergency Medical Technician in California. By coincidence, I became a Paramedic in Ohio. Today, Bobby Sherman is still alive, and well into his seventies. Occasionally I hear him on an oldies station as I’m listening to the radio. He always brings a smile to my face as I sing along with, “Julie, Julie, Julie do ya’ love me?”