Solid day for birthdays today, a pool of blown-candle fun that includes James Franco and Ilya Kovalchuk. But the one that caught my attention, the same way she caught my eye as a pre-pubescent boy growing up on Long Island in the late '80s, is SAMANTHA FOX, who today turns 47 years young. Honestly, I'm kinda surprised is still alive.
Oh, Sam, you taught me a lot about sexuality when I was 10 years old, and I'm still kinda fucked up over it. I always joke that Belinda Carlisle was my first celebrity crush, but Samantha Fox was probably the first woman I ever wanted to sleep with. And I was way too young to be thinking about that kinda shit. Regardless, the top shelf of the magazine rack at the stationary store on Bay Shore Road once held all of my dreams and fantasies hostage.
But beyond that, this is also one of those moments when I look back, think of all the various shades of rock and metal I was listening to at the time (Manowar, Slayer, Skid Row, Faster Pussycat), and wonder if the seeds to my obsession with dance-pop were planted without me even realizing. I had 1988's I Wanna Have Some Fun and 1986's Touch Me on cassette. Then again, Top 40 pop music is easy to listen to when you're beating off to the Spencer's-Gift-bought posters on your wall.