My very own 'purple sock'

Today the grass grows between the asphalt jungle where hundreds and hundreds of cars parked every night for a rock concert, or circus, or car show, or an Ice Capades show when it filled with water and froze. The Richfield Coliseum was, in my opinion, the very best indoor auditorium Ohio had. The acoustics at that time were fantastic and this was one of the very first shows my mother took me and my kid sister too.

The Osmonds featuring Donny and Marie were touring the states and ours was the 16 they visited in a schedule of maybe 100 cities across the east coast. It was a mild day a few months before Christmas and unlike my sister who was not much of a fan, I loved Donny and I tolerated Marie. She was still so young and not really refined in her public performances and me well I was merely twelve and totally in ga-ga over the purple-sock-wearing dark haired teenager who rocked up on stage like an old pro.

His brothers were talented no doubt and kept me at the edge of my seat with songs like Lazy River and He Ain't Heavy--but it was Donny and Puppy Love that had me jumping to my feet and squealing just like a young schoolgirl would. He was great and he was singing right at me, or so I could fantasize as if . . . he was blushing but capturing all the young girl's eyes who were looking right at him probably thinking the same thing I was. Nothing too do with dogs or a fascination with the 'man's best friend' motto; nope this was about that tender age when infatuation, just a bit shy of love, was experienced as goosebumps or giggles when a cute boy came into view. It was nostalgic, funny, endearing and of course moving.

The best part was that after his song, Marie went into Paper Roses and Donny slid off the stage into the pit to cool off. I had slipped down from my row of seats and meandered towards where he was sitting. I was just close enough where gurads might have intervened but I only looked. As I am looking Donny says Hi and I went 'uhh", can I have a momento from this concert?". "Sure little pretty lady" and he reached into a paper bag and pulled out one of about 100 single purple socks and handed it to me saying, 'and they called it puppy love' . . . I will never forget that nor how the rest of my life took on a gleaming for the innocence of puppy love again and again and again.