Rockin' out middle school style

Please pardon me if I seem a little tired today. Last night we partied like it was 1989.

They say you can't relive your youth, but try telling that to the thousands of screaming women in their late 20s and early 30s who packed the Verizon Center in D.C. last night for the New Kids on the Block reunion concert. It was just like we were 12 again, minus the acne and pre-calculus homework. (Okay, for me maybe just minus the homework.)

We sat in the uppermost section in Row O (as in Oh oh oh oh oh.) We didn't have the worst seats in the house -- that honor went to Row P, the last row of seats in the arena. But the distance didn't matter. We were still there and they were still the same old New Kids. And per instruction, we threw our hands in the air and waved them like we just didn't care.

There was bare-chested Jordan, with his nearly disturbing falsetto, Danny with his breakdancing, Jon with his always sheepish look, and baby-faced Joey, showing off his Dancing With the Stars moves. And of course, we can't ever forget bad boy Donnie, with his Boston cap and same poor command of the English language.

The guys have aged really well. I think they're far more attractive now than back in the day. Of course I also recognize that my tastes may have changed somewhat in the last two decades or so.

I feel pretty confident in saying that the majority of the women there spent the first 30 minutes of the two-hour concert just laughing. It was a very "is this really happening?" kind of mood. I don't think any of us really thought we'd ever see that synchronized, pendulum-like swinging leg dance set to The Right Stuff ever again.

The concert structure did seem a bit disjointed at times. Clearly they planned it so that the guys would have a chance to rest (and do one of their many costume changes) between sets. They alternated between their new songs and old hits. At one point they did an "in memory" tribute to those they've lost, and included Donnie's father and Danny's mother in the same breath as Heath Ledger and Tupac. It seemed very out-of-place and inappropriate.

None of that mattered. The ladies in attendance loved every second of the show. They came decked out in painters caps, denim overalls with one flap hanging down, and big New Kids buttons. They bought $40 t-shirts like water in a desert.

For one evening, we could all remember what it was like to hang tough and live a life without responsibility. That alone was well worth the price of admission.