Huh, huh? Whaddya think?

They need a back-up Backstreet Boy.

Can you imagine how many disappointed kids there'd be if Kevin twisted an ankle and the group couldn't perform? I can fill in. I'll just flip my cap around backwards, slap on some pants baggy enough to use as a windsurfing sail and hit the stage. Yep, I'm boning up on my lyrics and learning the dance moves as we speak. Then I'm off to Vancouver for our next tour stop.

OK, you caught me. I'm lying. I'm not really goin on tour with the Backstreet Boys. But when I was down at Sunridge Mall yesterday during their autograph session, you wouldn't believe how many times I was mistaken for a member of the band.

OK, you caught me again. I'm lying.

But I was at Zeller's in Sunridge Mall among the five or six gabillion hysterical fans. I got there at 7 a.m. to make sure I was at the front of the line.

Howie's my favorite and I listen to their album, like, 26 hours a day. I got a Backstreet Boys T-shirt and Howie winked at me and I'm never washing my hand again because I shook hands with all them -- Brian, A.J., Nick and Ringo and Sleepy and Dasher...

OK, I'm doing it again. I didn't wait in line for seven hours. But I did get a T-shirt. And I still haven't regained my hearing. Two hours of screeching and screaming does not do a body good.

Yes, they've stormed England (the country that invented The Spice Girls), conquered the Germans (the people who buy David Hasselhoff albums), and bulldozed over Quebec (two words: Roch Voisine). Yesterday Calgary: tomorrow the world.

It would be easy for me sit back and pull some caustic, sarcastic trip here about how the Backstreet Boys are just another prepackaged, overhyped pop product. I have to admit, I was fascinated by the whole torrid affair.

The earth did indeed move, and I found myself staring at the floor and wondering if those were scratches in the tile or structural cracks.

I myself wager a mob of 2,500 at the least. It's no secret the vast majority (i.e. 99.99%) of the crowd was prepubescent girls, bubbling with hormones.

So it's difficult for me to be hard on these guys. Are the expressions of sheer ecstasy on those girls' faces enough to overshadow the fact the Backstreet Boys' music is liable to make you miss the comparatively eclectic and deeply moving musical stylings of the New Kids On The Block? I think so.

Flash-in-the-pan teen heartthrobs selling records is nothing new. And sometimes, in the case of The Beatles, for instance, one of these hysterias led to some actual music.

I'm sure if Samantha Fox had come to Calgary when I was 10, I would've camped out overnight to get her autograph. The Backstreet Boys seem like nice enough guys, who gets hurt?

Unless of course Kevin twists his ankle. But then, of course, I'll be there to step in.

- Tyler McLeod, The Calgary Sun

April 4, 1997