I love Justin Bieber and am a belieber. I love his music, think he is a sweet boy, and apart from his ridiculous clothes, think he is adorable. I listen to him all the time and am not ashamed to say that at 46, I know all the words to his songs. I sing along, convinced if he heard me, he’d want to do a duet.
My son used to think my love of Justin in was cute, but that has now changed into him thinking I’m crazy. He is not a belieber, but he appreciates Justin’s talent and knows quite a few of his songs. He thinks my having a crush on a kid that is practically the same age as him is weird. Whatever.
Today listening to the radio in the car, Justin came on. While dancing and singing along, I looked to my right and saw another mom jamming in her car. We looked at each other and started laughing, knowing we were on the same station, and were having private love affairs with Justin. Too funny.
As I drove around running errands, I could not help but wonder if Justin knows that many of his fans are not young teenage girls. I spend money on his records, went to see his movie, and had to learn what a Fisker was, so if I ever met him, we could talk about it. I am a fan. A real fan.
As I pulled up to the post office to drop off my letters this afternoon, I opened my window to post my letters in the drop box. Justin came pouring out of my car and floated over the bus stop. A young man turned to look and broke into dance moves, while an older woman started clapping.
I decided I was going to do my next two errands with Justin blaring from my stereo, and all the windows open. I was curious about how many people would not only look, but recognize and acknowledge the music. What I found was truly remarkable. I live in a city of secret beliebers.
The kids hanging outside the drug store told me they loved Justin and Believe was a great album. One girl asked if I had seen his movie. I told her I had, twice, and she started to tell me all her favorite parts. That one was not a surprise, but the next one really was incredible.
As I got off the freeway, I saw a homeless person with a dog, and I dug in my wallet to give him a dollar. He thanked me, said God will bless me, and tipped his hat. He then serenaded me with: “Baby, baby, baby. Ohhhhhh baby, baby, baby.” Really? What just happened?
How does a man, who appears to live on the street with his dog, know Justin Bieber lyrics? There is only one answer. He is a secret belieber! Turns out I live in a city that has both public and private beliebers. Love him or not, clearly people know who this young man is.
Whether you are a housekeeper taking the bus home, a kid hanging out after school, a teenager chilling with your friends, or a homeless guy trying to make money to feed his dog, there is no escaping the appeal of Bieber. He is magic, and I love everything about him.
By everything of course I am not including his clothes. He may need a new stylist, but he is beyond talented. He is a genius in my opinion, and as I approach 50, I can’t imagine a time when his music will not bring my joy. Will we ever record a duet together? I am keeping the faith.
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