A meeting with Shaun Cassidy, my first crush

A fan finds herself in a backstage hug, decades after kissing her poster of the former teen idol.

I was approaching the George Washington Bridge when my friend Lynn texted the Shaun Squad group chat: "PREN GET READY, PARTY PEOPLE!"

My heart sank as the message came through the car speakers in a robotic female voice.

I dictated, "OMG, Lynn, you better not be about to send a text that will make me wish I had my eyebrows waxed for tonight."

"I am," she replied.

A rush of adrenaline made my pulse race.

An hour later, I would be face to face with my first schoolgirl crush, Shaun Cassidy. Unruly eyebrows and all.

By the late '70s, thanks to the double punch of his starring role in ABC's teen crime drama "The Hardy Boys" and a string of hit singles, he was a regular on the cover of Tiger Beat and other teen magazines. His look—feathered hair, satin baseball jackets and tight pants—triggered a tsunami of teenage hormones.

Long before "nepo baby" was a thing, he shot to fame as the eldest son of music star-turned-"Partridge Family" matriarch Shirley Jones and Broadway legend Jack Cassidy. His half-brother, David Cassidy, had preceded him in teenage dream stature.

Shaun's most popular single was his cover of The Crystals' "Da Do Ron Ron," but my favorite was "That's Rock 'n' Roll," a solid bop written by Eric Carmen. Centered on a 16-year-old narrator who is fed up with school, the lyrics preach the gospel of rock rebellion, and even through my elementary school years the song stuck. until we're all giggling.

As I entered my teens, I transitioned from roller skates to combat boots, and my crushes took on a more androgynous twist. MTV featured a slew of British sad boys with teased hair and makeup, the most famous on American shores being Depeche Mode and The Cure. Their subtly subversive masculinity obsessed me so much that my real-life male contemporaries were a disappointment. A memoir of my romantic coming-of-age might be titled “I Was Told There Would Be Eyeliner.”

Then I saw Catherine Deneuve as nightclub vampire Miriam Blaylock in “The Hunger.” Kissing Shaun's poster gave way to kissing a shy goth girl under the movie poster on her bedroom wall. But you never forget your first one, and Shaun, with his faun face, was the perfect catwalk crush.

I fell in love with him the second time around because of the rats.

Two years ago, one of his tweets appeared in my timeline. He showed a screenshot of a text from his wife asking him to tell her about their "rat problem". Shaun gave her a caption: "She's so romantic."

Former teen idol turned wife? Of course, I would follow that. Four of my friends also started following him on Twitter, and Shaun Squad was born.

So when the New York engagement for his solo show "Magic of a Midnight Sky" was announced, Squad member Joy bought tickets the minute they went on sale, and Lynn contacted her tour manager, promising to arrange a meet.

Not likely, I thought. But the girl in me clung to the fantasy.

As the club filled up on the night of the show, our hopes of meeting began to fade. Monica had a cool keratin treatment, her hair a curtain of shine. Marjorie had found some old iron-on transfer paper and made her own Shaun tank top. She even made us Swiftie-style "Shaun Squad" friendship bracelets. We were heaving discouraged sighs over our $18 cocktails when the tour manager appeared.

"OK, let's go," she said. "But we have to be quick."

We passed the audience of women holding vintage Shaun memorabilia. I noticed that one of them had brought him a "Hardy Boys" lunch box.

Walk up an elevator and down a narrow hallway to the dressing room. And there he was - tall, his hair a mix of blonde and gray, the shine...