Hearing so many Michael Jackson hits in the past few weeks, I couldn’t help but think back to how great pop music was when I was younger – a time when people still listened to the radio, counted down the Top 40, collected big vinyl records and made mix tapes.

MJ’s Thriller was the second album I ever owned. I received it as a gift from my little sister on Christmas Day 1982, four weeks after it came out. I played it on the dining room stereo over and over until Mom finally made me use headphones. Those headphones were so big and heavy they sometimes slid off my head – especially if I bopped around too much. The short cord tethered me to the table while wearing them. I didn’t have a Walkman or a boom box yet, so I accepted my tethering without protest. I spent many of my teenage days at the dining table, singing to Top 40 hits, making mix tapes for my sister and my friends.

A shy, geeky kid, I took school seriously, delivered newspapers and didn’t play sports. Thank God for Donna Summer and the other divas of the day, who gave me the passion to express myself in other ways. In the privacy of my bedroom, I could sashay, lip-sync and sing along with Blondie, Cyndi, Whitney, Tina, Madonna and my favorites – “MacArthur Park” by Donna Summer and “I’m Coming Out” by Diana Ross. I had no idea what coming out was, but it sure felt empowering to sing about it.

My favorite boyhood diva, Olivia Newton-John, baited me with breathy songs “Suddenly,” “Hopelessly Devoted to You,” and “With a Little More Love.” Our torrid, secret affair climaxed and ended with her 1982 hit “Physical” – I could no longer be exclusive with a diva who’d suddenly turned trashy. Yet there I still was, singing along with Olivia about doing things “horizontally” and moaning, “Let me hear your body talk!” I suppose she might forgive me that at the age of 13, I barely understood what it meant to hear someone’s body talk, since my own body was only just starting to murmur things.

As awesome as they were, my boyhood divas had to compete for attention with some fabulous men singers. My first idol was Barry Manilow, whose every song I memorized while tethered to that dining table. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was about Elton John, Freddie Mercury, George Michael, Boy George, and Rick Astley, but I liked their style.

With so many divas and flamboyant men on the radio back then, it’s a wonder that every closeted guy in the country didn’t come out. I suppose that for many guys, machismo won out thanks to bands like Aerosmith, Def Leppard, Motley Crue, and ZZ Top.

Some of my best early pop music memories are of going with my sister to the roller-rink, which was the only public place where I could hear so many of my favorite songs, like “Xanadu,” “Mickey,” and “Bette Davis Eyes.” After each set of fast songs, the lights would dim for a slow-skate. Because I didn’t have a girlfriend, I’d skate off the floor, find a spot in a dark corner, and lean against the rail, wondering what it was like to skate hand-in-hand with someone, while the deejay played love songs, such as “Woman In Love” or “Endless Love.” A few times, a girl would tap me on the shoulder and ask me to skate. Mostly I’d decline, pretending to have a sore leg, but secretly fearing that once I’d skated with her, I’d have to start doing other stuff with girls that I didn’t want to do yet. Miraculously, my sore leg healed each time I heard the first few beats of J. Geils’ “Freeze-Frame” or Kool and The Gang’s “Celebration,” and I’d skate back to the rink, celebrating my singleness.

After entering junior high, I finally reluctantly dated a few girls. I also finally took my singing and dancing out of the house and joined a regional youth chorus called the Singing Angels. As our name implied, we weren’t allowed to sing pop songs about raging hormones or romance – just show tunes, barbershop harmony, and older songs that our parents liked. In my high school and college choruses it was the same – no pop songs, mostly classical music.

Twenty-some years later, I sing with the Gay Men’s Chorus of San Diego. The great thing about GMCSD is that we sing not only show tunes and classical music, but also the pop songs we grew up with. We’ve done theme concerts of 50s, 60s, and 70s music, and in a few weeks we’ll present our “Really Awesome 80s” show. It’s been funny to sing tunes like “Physical,” “Muscles,” and “Billie Jean” at our rehearsal church each week, but in the end, I’ve had a blast re-singing these songs with others and reliving so many great memories. We’ll do MJ proud – and Miss Ross too, because now we can sing “I’m Coming Out” like we really mean it.