Hard to believe that this would have been Andy Gibb's 52nd birthday. He was in the second wave of crushes for me, after David, Bobby and The Monkees. And he was proximate, since he lived in Miami when I was still there, so he seemed somehow more attainable. I think the first concert I went to was an Andy Gibb concert. He was like a younger version of Barry. I wasn't the only one. A friend at the time tried to come up with a plot to kidnap him and get us to go in on it with her. I think I may have been the voice of reason, but I was tempted. Oh, I had it baaaad.
And I remember hearing when he died. March 10th, 1988. It was only five days after his 30th birthday. I'd been living in Gainesville for several years by that point. I was driving north on 34th Street when the announcement was made on the radio. I was so shocked. Goodness, Andy wasn't that much older than me! It was like losing a piece of my youth. I still listen to his music, and think of how wonderfully silly we were back then, and wish it, and he, could have lasted longer.
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