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Consider Him Justin Bieber 1.0
National Post
by Shinan Govani
July 9, 2011

And the burning question is this: Did Donny ever find his shirt? The other night, at an intimate party held across the street from his sibling routine, where two distinct islands of Osmonds had broken out in the room -his Turks to Marie's Caicos -I found myself in the vicinity of the former.

Donny was smile-a-minute. Donny was contagiously gung-ho. Donny, too, was more than ably pored into a fitted black T-shirt -a look hard to pull off as evening wear for a) a man of a certain age, and b) a man who isn't Simon Cowell.

Turns out it wasn't his first choice! "I'm wearing this because my other shirt went missing," the original teen heartthrob began to tell me. "It's gone," he added sideways to one of the flaks nearby, giving a play-by of the shirt that went poof in his dressing room at the Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts.

Then, just as he was giving me his very best "whatcha gonna do?" smile, someone appeared, asking to take a pic of us together, wherein we both surrendered, cozied up and mentally cheese'ed, and wherein Donny, the Eternal Child, held up two fingers behind me as we posed. A sec later, we did a cleaner, bunny-ears-free shot, and I noticed then -right there at Tundra, in the Hilton Hotel -that Mr. Showbiz had on not just a substitute black tee, but also a phone in a case hanging off the belt on his jeans. (Theory: Peut-être Donny sells real estate on the side?)

On other shores, Sister Osmond was giving the party crowd every inch of the old-timer showbiz-pro that she is -snug in a jean jacket commissioned, in its way, by Weight Watchers. Marie was heard heartily laughing, and happily posing for pictures, too. "Let's do a prom shot!" we heard her exclaim at one point with a fan. "Prom shot!"

She looked good. They both did. That no-coffee-no-alcohol-lots-ofkids Mormon thing seems to be really working for 'em. As did, well, the incomparable high of another opening night, another city, another round of hot notices, in a career that trails back to -what? -the Johnson administration. (This latest Toronto edition is brought to us by Dancap Productions.) As I was, at long last, eventually ducking out, I saw a broad of an inevitable vintage gingerly approaching Donny, proceeding to tell him she has a son who's really, really into Justin Bieber, and how she gets it, because, well, he was her own Justin Bieber way back when.

Giving good game face, and not letting anyone see him sweat -although, God knows what he was really thinking -Donny listened patiently, thanked the woman profusely, and then he (and the phone on his belt) beat a well-practised path to the exit.





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