Welcome to American music, here's your complimentary Kleenex pack

One of the first memories of living in the U.S. is the old infomerical advertising Wilson Phillips' first album, Wilson Phillips, featuring that freaking catchy hit single, "Hold On." I still remember being a young, pre-obese tyke with my soon-to-be fat ass parked in front the grainy television in our rental home in suburban south San Jose, a.k.a. WHY DOES 3/4 OF CHINA LIVE HERE OH EM GEE TOO MUCH MATH NERD BLAHRGAHRG

I was just sitting there, munching away on snacks that five-year-olds should not be allowed to touch, when all of a sudden, I saw a flash of platinum blond hair and hooker red lips. Only fifteen years later did I learn that her name was Wendy Wilson. The only words I knew to that song were, "But you hoooold on, for one more day...blahblahblah Incoher, ent fooooreign lang. uage, English sounds so. stuuuuUuUpid...." (Five, new to the country, waddaya expect.)

So, to Wilson Phillips: thank you for introducing me to American music. I owe you one. I think.

R-r-r-r-reeeewiiiiind: