I'm a firm believer that childhood crushes count as first loves, and that we'd be doing ourselves a favor by striking our Teen Years from the record in their entirety. First love should be honest and naive and inexplicable and untainted by hormones and social anxiety and mild hallucinogenics; when you're a kid you can feel your feelings without using your little head at all - and therein lies ABSOLUTE TRUTH.
I couldn't tell you what about Peter Jennings held my attention as a kid - I remember thinking he was so handsome, and maybe it was his hair? - but as an adult I came to know two things that lent themselves to a permanent soft spot for PJ. The first: he was a High School dropout, which he attributed to an all-consuming love of "girls and comic books" (he turned out OKAY, which makes this a perfectly acceptable thing to swoon over). The second: his belief that "one of the great luxuries in life" was a bottle of wine that costs more than twelve bucks. Affinity, for infinity, and further evidence that at age 8 I was making far better decisions than I would be at age 18.