Obsession Therapy

Back at a radio job in the late eighties/early nineties, I worked with a guy who was obsessed - I use that term in all its full psychological glory - with Debbie Gibson.

The guy - let's call him "Tom" - was about my age (late twenties at the time) and was a low-level gopher at the station (which shall remain unnamed); although he'd gone to Brown Institute for radio, like most Brownies, he was a part-time guy who worked at, I think, a WalMart for his regular income.

But while his radio career was small (and destined to grow smaller, and eventually vanish, like that of most people in his position back then), his love for Debbie Gibson was huge. Gibson - the three-hit-wonder pop tart who scored in 1987 with "Only In My Dreams", had a one-year run of superstardom in the radio and music market at the height of a particularly malignant surge of teen-idolism (which also included Tiffany, New Kids on the Block, Boyz 2 Men, Color Me Badd and many, many more). By 1990, the Gibson train was pulling out of the station...

...but not to Tom. In his heart, she was still a superstar. The superstar. He talked about her all the time. One of the few visitors to his house (yes, as a matter of fact, he did live with his mother) said that his room was plastered with her posters and photos. He played her music in the production room after his shift. He waited at the record store for her new releases.

In the winter of 1991, word came from managment that Deb was going to come to the station on the publicity tour for her next (direct-to-landfill, as it happened) album.

Long story short: The big day came. Tom showed up - with a $400 set of earrings that he'd bought. He came to work two hours early, waited outside the studio - and as she left to be whisked to the airport to continue her tour, walked up to her in the hallway and pressed the little box into her hands. Then he walked away.

And that was that.

Tom's first love didn't really happen - obviously. And Tom, wherever you are, might want to count your blessings.