• Moving on from One-D

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    Alice Bustos-Orosa

    Alice Bustos-Orosa

    On Wednesday, my 13 year old daughter, Trish was calling me long distance on my mobile every hour pestering me about tickets for the March 2015 concert of One Direction.

    On top of my very busy day, my secretary was amused at overhearing the conversations between Trish and I.

    She had been hounding her dad and I about “One-D” for days by then.

    “We can get tickets online. We just need to make sure we’re first online.

    Why don’t we go to MOA early? Please! I won’t ask for anything on my birthday, just OneD tickets, please!”

    The evening before the tickets went on sale, I already told her news about people literally camped out at the Mall of Asia grounds to line up for the tickets.

    Of course she said, “That’s a great idea! Can we go?”

    “Seriously, we are not sleeping in MOA for tickets!” I answered incredulously.

    A confessed fan of this boy band, my daughter has collected quite a bit of One-D memorabilia. For starters, she has a pillow, towels, CDs, books and posters of these boys. On top of these, the music of One-D is what we all endure over and over again during long drives.

    Proving to be such a hit worldwide, Trish is thrilled to see billboards of these five pretty young men in airports and stores around Asia.

    A screaming, giddy fan of Shaun Cassidy in my teens, I empathized with my young girl as she expressed the ultimate dream of watching these boys live in concert. I understood exactly how young girls feel about their first crush and how wound-up they can get just daydreaming about the possibility of meeting them in person.

    Historically, every generation has had an iconic idol with an almost hysterical following. Just take Beatle–mania, Bieberfever, or Spice–Mania. Clearly, this generation has OneD.

    As the Wednesday went by, almost everyone in the family was scrambling to find a way to get hold of these precious concert tickets. Her dad, aunts, cousins, and I all tried to go online only to find that the server was down.

    As a last attempt, my husband decided to leave work early to drive to the nearest ticket outlet and line up. Later, he amusedly narrated that he was the only father in line as all the rest were mothers who had also been pestered by their daughters desperate for tickets to the concert.

    As his turn came, he readily inquired about tickets for two, to which the saleslady replied, “Sir, we just ran out. The lady in front of you bought the last five tickets available.”

    What luck, really!

    As I called my daughter after hearing from my husband, I could almost see her forlorn look and sensed the heavy disappointment in her voice.

    The day after, my family talked about how these One-D tickets must be so trivial and petty to most. But in the news that evening, we watched girls who had camped out the night before crying their hearts out at MOA when the tickets ran out.

    A “sosy” problem some would say—the satire on the inane concerns privileged children have these days.

    Yet frankly, can a young girl ever be rational and sensible about her first crush? I would think that with the concert still far off in March next year, Trish should learn to accept her disappointment. After all, this might just be the first innocent heartbreak my daughter will have that teaches her what moving on is all about.

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