Who's the cutest of them all?

Entertainment news headlines today have announced the death of '50s television and sometimes film star David Nelson. He and his parents and his brother Ricky formed the iconic Nelson family, who modeled the ideals to which all American families were expected to aspire. As I recall, the byword in my family went something like this: "Ozzie and Harriet we aren't." That was one of my earliest experiences with understatement.
David Nelson was 74, the news articles say, and he passed after a bout with cancer. Despite the facts, I cannot picture him as an elderly man ravaged by illness. I, like many women who grew up in the '50s, remember his engaging grin, his spats with Ricky and his fading in the shadows of Ricky's fame as a recording artist. Even though I knew all the lyrics well enough to sing along with "Travelin' Man" and "Poor Little Fool", mourned over "Lonesome Town" and danced with my friends to "Hello, Mary Lou," I never thought Ricky Nelson was such a hot teen idol. His voice was nasal and wispy, and he tried too hard to imitate Elvis. The truth of the matter is that I was in love with David. Sweeter, shyer, often the fall guy, David captured my heart.
In the '50s, the type of guy you dreamed of marrying some day defined you in many ways.
Spin or Marty?
Pat Boone or Elvis?
James Dean or Tab Hunter?
Good kid or rebel? White bucks or blue suede shoes? Crew cut or greaser?
David Nelson was clean-cut, the kind of boy your father would let you date, except if you had a father like mine. He did not have the word "date" in his vocabulary, and he would have preferred that I remain his little girl in taffeta dresses, petticoats, lacy white anklets and black patent leather shoes forever. I always hoped, though, that he would allow David to come calling, should the occasion arise.
RIP.