Prettier than John Stamos

Even though I spent over $300 to buy two front row tickets to the Beach Boys concert at the state fair, I still roll my eyes at the Beach Boys’ music. I’m a head banger from the 80’s. I don’t want to hear a bunch of geriatric men harmonize over surfing and bikini clad girls. They would probably all need hip surgery if they tried to surf. The only reason I sold my soul to the Stub Hub devil and bought those tickets was because John Stamos, my number one fake boyfriend, was joining them on tour.

Now, being the mom of a musician, I didn’t go to see if John Stamos was a great drummer or guitarist (he plays both instruments, believe it or not). I went to the Beach Boys concert because John/Uncle Jesse/Blackie Parish is not just eye candy; he is eye Belgian truffles. The man is beautiful. I really do think he bathes in the blood of kittens. He must. While he doesn’t seem to be the sharpest block of cheddar in the dairy case, John is so visually perfect that it pains me that he does not have children. He needs to make babies now while he’s still too young to star in Viagra commercials.

Have mercy!
Have mercy! So close!

So, in short, I’m a shallow middle-aged woman with a girl boner for John Stamos. There’s got to be a twelve-step meeting somewhere for people like me. While I did enjoy staring at the yogurt god, and shooting this video from the front row, it wasn’t the coolest thing that happened at the concert.


Before John, and the Beach Boys hit the stage, I was sitting there, singing and chair dancing to A Horse with No Name, by the first band on stage, America. I was in heaven, sitting right up front, eating a very large hot pretzel with a super bad for me Diet Coke, just waiting for the Greek god to take the stage. Then, I met the young man who sat next to me with his father. At least, I’m pretty sure it was his father. I didn’t ask.

This young man was about 16 or 18, 6 feet tall, and autistic. He came in 2 songs into America’s set, and then sat by me for about half of the show. The other half, he was on the floor next to the stage, or walking around, or lying on his father. He was wearing a Beach Boys shirt, and, during the brief intermission, his father explained that he took him to any Beach Boys show within driving distance. They had driven down from Michigan, 3 hours away, for this show.

The Beach Boys had met him, and knew he would be right up front. They waved to the young man from the stage. Most of the time, he didn’t really see them, but that didn’t stop them from trying. Once or twice, he really focused on them, and smiled. I had just met the boy, but that smile brought tears to my eyes.

I don’t know his name, or his father’s name, or if that man even was his father. I do know that the man, father or not, has the patience of a saint. I know that he will do anything for the young man. I know that like a lot of parents, or caregivers, or friends, he will drive for hours just to see the young fellow smile.

That, my dear readers, is what is really beautiful in this world. Don’t get me wrong. John Stamos is still the best looking man on the planet, and I will continue to buy his yogurt and anything else he sells. The truth is though, that physical beauty will never be more beautiful than real love.

UPDATE: Through the magic of Google, I found a news story on this wonderful father and son.  Here it is:



12 thoughts on “Prettier than John Stamos

    1. John Stamos is just pretty. That is his gift to the world. That “dad” was a saint, and he obviously had a strong back. The boy was bigger than him, but he still managed to keep him near their seats.

  1. Such an insightful post! It’s remarkable how far being a good, loving person can go. I love the way you shared a stranger’s kindness, deepening his impact manyfold.

    PS Shallow, you? No way. 🙂

    1. AWW! Thanks, August. It was really moving to watch them together, and to watch the young guy enjoy the Beach Boys.

  2. We tried to go to the show but the tickets were all sold out by the time we got around to it. You may have a girl boner for John Stamos, but my son has a little boy boner (ew) for “Uncle Jesse.” Too bad we procrastinated forever and couldn’t get into the show. We would have seen you in a head banging state of a lust.

    1. It’s too bad that I never met your son. I’m sure Chris would have gladly given up his front row seat for him. Oh, well. Next time.

    1. I had to, Michelle. It’s the only term that can possibly describe what it is like to see that piece of yogurt on stage.

  3. What a wonderful story about a dad who loves his son so much he drove him 3 hours to listen to music he connects with! And I loved John, long before he was Uncle Jesse, when he played Blackie on General Hospital.

    P.S. I love when you reveal how truly mushy you are on the inside!

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