Photo: Gabe Palacio/Getty Images When I was 11, I had two things going for me. One, I looked like Daniel Radcliffe’s Harry Potter, a nice coincidence for a kid in 2001. And two, I had the dial-in for Radio Disney memorized like the operator was an emergency contact. I was instead, of course, reaching an intern manning calls for a children’s pop station that pandered to young girls and closeted gays.
It started when my parents bought me Radio Disney Jams 4, a compilation stuffed with hits and flops and the mononymous alike. The CD quickly joined my “MMMBop,” No Strings Attached, and Oops!… I Did It Again cassettes in back-and-forth trades with my best friend, the only other gay boy in my class. After he switched schools, we’d spend hours on the phone dissecting the artists the other had discovered on Radio Disney that week, from Aaron Carter to S Club 7.
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