What the Wilson Phillips?

2/3 Beach Boys, 1/3 Mamas and Papas. Plus, one cool short hair cut.  It's a recipe for 90's success.

Wore out the cassette.

This isn't a dig. I had that cassette. I wore it out. They sold 10 Million copies. Surprising. They were the best selling female group of all time. Seriously.

So popular. I actually saw them at Disneyland in 1990. Walking around. Took fuzzy pictures of them at a distance. With my cheap 35mm.

Videos of them singing on the beach. With totally plausible video storylines. (You're visualizing now, you're welcome.)

And, then, well, then, they disappeared. Sort of. One of them married a not that interesting Baldwin brother, one was in a Progressive insurance ad.

I didn't think about them again. For years. And years.

Two years ago a BFF and I went to Oprah's Live The Life You Want Weekend. It was awesome. Oprah, Elizabeth Gilbert, Gayle King, Rob Bell and Another Guy I can't remember. Inspirational. Motivating. Life Changing.

Before the sessions started they had dance parties. Katy Perry and Maroon 5 mixed in with Gloria Gaynor. And, Wilson Phillips.

Wait, what?

Yup.

Wilson Phillips, blaring out 'Hold On'.

Just try not to sing along. You can't not sing along. It had been 20 years since I'd heard Hold On and yet the words came right on back. We looked at each other, giggled and sang along. When in Rome. Or, when with Oprah... Over two days the DJ must have played that song a dozen times. Probably more, now that I think about it.

But, the lyrics work for an event like that.

Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day

Always on.

Left the Oprah weekend exhausted and ready to take on the world. And, forgot about Wilson Phillips. For a couple days. To torment each other BFF and I would text the lyrics back and forth at random times - it's an ear worm of the highest caliber. Once it's in. It's in. For hours.

Oddly enough I started hearing the song on the radio. I would giggle and sing along. And, of course, text those lyrics over for maximum torment. Or, better yet, text a photo of my XM screen with the song on it.

Every once in awhile the song would come on at a time when I needed to hear it. Maybe a frustrating work day. Or after an argument. Or a meeting at school. Or the day the dog died.



The lyrics work. Who would have thought that a cheesy 90's hit would sort of become my theme song?


Well, that and Brick House, but that's so obvious.