Imagine how thrilled and excited we were when our moms told us they had tickets to see him at a venue called Merriwether Post Pavillion in Columbia, MD. For months, Debbie and I would talk excitedly about it whenever we got together, flipping through the pages of Tiger Beat magazine to cut out more pictures.
The day of the concert finally arrived. I was psyched; the day stretched out so long ahead of me. And then it started to rain. Then pour. We had seats on the lawn, not in the pavillion. Our moms decided they didn't want to sit in the rain to see some teen heartthrob and refused to take us to the concert. We begged, pleaded, offered our souls. Nope. They obviously didn't love him like we did; we would've sat in the rain all day to see Andy perform. We were crushed, devastated.
Why the hell couldn't they have just used umbrellas?
Debbie and I swore that next time he came back, we WOULD see him, rain or shine.
Well, we know how that sad story ended. I'd never get the chance to see Andy Gibb perform unless I watched Solid Gold or some other lame, lip-synched show.
But here he is, in all his beautiful glory: