Refreshing to find an
Osmond fan who admits it

Robyn’s ’Hood
By Robyn McCloskey

Is it just me or are the Osmonds everywhere?
After Marie’s recent stint on Dancing With the Stars, there seems to be a resurgence in Osmond-mania. Not that I’m complaining, because I’ve been a lifelong Osmond family fan, and Mr. Donny Osmond in particular.
It all started on Friday nights in the ’70s when I sat glued to the television while eagerly awaiting the start of the Donny and Marie Show. The thrill of seeing who that week’s guest stars were going to be, the anticipation over which songs would be sung, which skits would be performed, was almost more than I could bear.
How I loved watching Donny sing a solo into the eye of the camera, making me feel as if I was the only girl for him, even if I wasn’t a Mormon. All followed by feelings of melancholy as the words to the show’s closing song were sung by an arm-in-arm Donny and Marie: May tomorrow be a perfect day, may you find love and laughter along the way. May God keep you in his tender care till he brings us together again. Goodbye everybody!
Even though this song was a well-intended benediction, I still left feeling blue, knowing it would be another full week before I got to see my favorite brother-and-sister singing duo. And while I admired Marie for her talent, beauty and chutzpah, let’s just say my feelings for Donny went a little deeper.
Until recently, I kept this a well-guarded secret. I tended to share my Donny crush with very few people, because it seems we "Osmaniacs" tend to get made fun of. Which I never quite understood . . . OK, so I am the only person I know who can name all nine of the Osmond siblings as if they were my own, including the names of their dear departed parents.
And, yes, I know that out of those nine children sprung 55 grandchildren and (at last count) 48 great-grandchildren. I also know that the whole reason we are aware of this phenomenal family is because the two eldest brothers, Virl and Tom, were born hearing-impaired. To quote Marie, "Can you imagine being hearing-impaired in this family?"
So George (the patriarch) took it upon himself to teach the next four brothers, Alan, Wayne, Merrill and Jay, how to sing harmony, barbershop-quartet style. In short order they took to two very lucrative roads: one led to the The Andy Williams Show, the other to Disneyland, in order to raise money for hearing aids, truly one of the most ironic stories in the history of entertainment.
But it wasn’t until the next-youngest brother burst on the scene that this "quartet" no longer could be contained and became not just a quintet, but an overnight sensation as well. Yes, it was my Donny who made this family a household name, and I no longer am ashamed to say that I have faithfully followed these multi-talented and philanthropic brunets for more years than I care to admit.
Interestingly enough, my husband shares what many have commented is an uncanny resemblance to Donny Osmond. He has the same full head of dark hair, a dazzling smile, more than his fair share of charm . . . he can even carry a tune. He’s even a little bit rock and roll. I’m not sure whether my attraction to my husband had anything subconsciously to do with my young, tender feelings for Donny, but since we are going on 20-plus years of marriage, does it really matter?
So I ask you, why make fun of someone for being a fan of this wholesome, loving, and dentally fantastic family that has banded together and stuck it out through more than 50 years of show business? A family that spawned its very own Osmond Family Theatre in the famed town of Branson, Mo., home to octogenarian vacationers. A place I hope to visit soon myself, even if I am technically much too young.
It’s a family that started the Children’s Miracle Network. A family that was a famous boy band long before anyone ever heard of the Backstreet Boys, ’N Sync or either of the Lachey brothers — and now boasts a second-generation boy band of sons following in their famous fathers’ footsteps.
Like many families, they have had their share of trials and tribulations, but unlike most families, they seem closer for it. I no longer hide my love for all things "Osmond." To quote my now not-so-secret crush, this is not a puppy love. ••
Robyn McCloskey’s column appears each week in the Northeast Times. She can be reached at crmccloskey@verizon.net