Hold On To What You Got.

I've commented far and wide on the phenomenon that is Bon Jovi's 'Living On A Prayer', but I'll do so again here, you know, for posterity. It first struck me back home in Stawell, dancing with Ali McCann to terrible, terrible top 40 drivel. When Living On a Prayer came on the whole dancefloor lit up, Ali and myself included, and screamed the words until our throats bled. A few weeks later a car full of fully sicks is driving down Brunswick Street, blasting the song as loud as their stereo would go. And I watched as everyone on the street, goths and hippies and fashionistas and hipsters, all turned their heads and smiled. But my theory was finally sealed last night, at daggy disco, in a room full of deliberately dorkily dressed crustpunks. The song came on and we threw our fists in the air, revolution style, and sung like we were abusing cops. So here I stand, correct again: There is no one in the world who doesn't like this song.