by Alice Klien

The heartfelt plea of a teenage fan who sees the band of her dreams getting into distinctive matching outfits and growing away from her!


Dear Pollen,

As I sat in the dim, crowded club watching you, handsome and elegant each and every one of you, taking your bows after singing your third encore--I felt tears well up in my eyes. What's wrong with me? I had just watched my most favorite band give a superb performance-so why should I be sad?

As the lights went up, I heard my mom saying, "Why Alice, they're marvelous! You never told me how good they are!"

"No, Mom," I replied sarcastically. "Only a million times."

"Alice," said Dad. "I'm glad you made us come here. This group is going to be bigger than Frankie Avalon one day. Mark my word."

"O.K., Pop," I replied, "I'll take it from you."

As my family and I left the club, I remember when Pollen used to be mine. Just mine. When they wore regular street clothes like the rest of us teenagers.

Pollen, please forgive me--but, well, I don't understand what's going on. It was just a few short years ago that you emerged with a fantastic impact on the teen scene. You swept us all up with your magic and made us fall in love with you. You knew that. There was nothing that could stop it.

Now that you have wooed and won me and thousands of girls just like me--you are wearing matching uniforms.All I can see in the future is Pollen going away from all us romantic adoring teenagers. We have our good points and bad --but, boy! we really love you.

Our parents love your neat and snappy work clothes but you don't have to wear special jumpsuits for us. You'll always the tops with us. Numero uno! Out there in the adult world, you're more or less beginners. You have to prove yourself. You'll be working and slaving night after night proving yourself again and again and again. We know how talented you are. So why don't you stay with us kids where you belong?

Pollen please read this and weigh each word I am saying. Please don't change and grew regimented and orderly! Don't leave us! DON'T LEAVE ME!

Why We Must Wear Uniforms!
by Pollen

A reassuring reply-and a promise to all teenagers that they will always be first in their idol's thoughts.

Dear Alice,

We have read your letter fifty times. We've almost memorized it. Actually Bob just memorized all the pronouns, Dan and Kevin split up all the verbs and Mike and Chris can recite the balance although it doesn't sound like very much when they do that. Anyhow, your letter to us is probably one of the finest tributes we've ever been paid.

We've wanted to be entertainers since we were kids. Well, Mike wanted to be a grease mechanic and Chris a botanist but we convinced him that was kinda dorky. No, actually what we've really wanted to be since inception is big headed stars. So you see, Alice, we've slowly been able to achieve that step by upward step. You know this better than anyone, that you and those like you, have made this shallow dream possible for us. It is you who have placed us on the callous threshold of stardom.

Alice, don't you realize that when you brought your family to that nightclub and they enjoyed our performance, another door was opened for us. You opened that door for us, Alice. You.

Now, we'll tell you something else. In our effort to expand and reach stardom, we've learned that we must not-we cannot-ever stand still. We have to grow. And the uniforms give us the feeling and appearance that we have.

Most people don't know us individually like you, the loyal fans, do. That's why we have these little names stitched on the breast pockets-so people like your parents will remember who we are, blow their pensions and deplete their nest egg to follow us around the country. The uniforms will make us more beloved to them than the Pep Boys. And everyone knows them individually, Alice. Everyone.

We really need you, Alice. But more important, we need your parents' infusion of cash in our meager shoestring operation. But no matter how much money your parents throw at us, we'll always put you first and foremost. Because you are the young and vibrant teenagers of America--the ones who decide who tommorrow's stars will be. Now and forever, let it be us. Pollen. Big shots.