If you were a little girl in the 1970s, Olivia Newton-John in “Grease” was your dreamboat. Can I get a witness? Becca? (Thank you, I just outted a friend.) I loved the ONJ in that movie so much — she was beautiful, she sang, she danced, she was lonely and sad, she was happy and outgoing, cheerleader and biker chick all in one. And remember that closing number? “You Better Shape Up”? Where she’s so irresistible to John Travolta that he’s instantly becomes her boyfriend? Yeah, that was my fantasy. They sing, and then they like hop-walk (kick-ball-chain? whatever that means) along the carnival grounds, etc. and then they hold hands.
When I was seven, I was babysat with two ten-year-old boys. I had a crush one of them, and he played that song. Instead of sitting at the homework table, he was by the stereo, singing along. And after daydreaming about that end scene choreography for so long, I jumped out of my chair without thinking — this was our moment — and opened my mouth to sing “Better shape up, cuz I need a man” and hop-walked towards him, making him the John Travolta to my Olivia Newton John.
He laughed and, needless to say, I was…crushed. Ha Ha Ha. That was the last time I went out on a limb for a boy for a long spell.