How Old Is Donny Osmond Now

Introduction

Donny Osmond at 67 – A Legendary Journey Through Time

Donny Osmond, the talented singer, dancer, and actor, has now reached the milestone age of 67. Born on December 9, 1961, he began his showbiz career as a child, performing with his family in the famous group, The Osmond Brothers. As a solo artist, Donny quickly rose to fame with a string of chart-topping hits, most notably “Puppy Love,” which peaked at number three on the Billboard Hot 100 in the U.S. and topped the charts in the UK.

Beyond music, Donny made a name for himself in musical theater, starring in well-known productions like Little Johnny Jones, The Sound of Music, and Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. From 1975 to 1979, he co-hosted the hit variety show Donny & Marie with his sister Marie. In 2004, he returned to Broadway, playing Gaston in Disney’s stage production of Beauty and the Beast.

Donny’s talents extend far beyond the stage. He’s also an accomplished businessman, having founded Osmond Design, a company specializing in home furnishings and décor. He is the author of several self-help books and is deeply involved in philanthropy and faith-based outreach, using his platform to give back to the community.

Now, at the age of sixty-seven, Donny remains active in music and entertainment. He enjoys a fulfilling personal life with his wife, Debbie Glenn, and their five adult sons. Revered as an icon of the 1970s, he continues to captivate audiences of all ages with his timeless charm and enduring talent.

As he reflects on a life filled with hard work and achievement, Donny now uses his experience to mentor and inspire the next generation of performers. His vibrant energy and joyful spirit show no signs of fading. Donny Osmond stands tall at 67, not only as a pop legend but as a symbol of passion, perseverance, and purpose—a true star whose light continues to shine brightly.

Video

You Missed

THREE BROTHERS. ONE BOND THE WORLD COULD FEEL. When the Bee Gees stood together — Barry Gibb, Robin Gibb, and Maurice Gibb — it was never just a band onstage. It was family, carrying a lifetime into every harmony they shared. Their voices didn’t compete. They leaned in. Each part made space for the others, fragile and powerful at the same time. You could hear trust in the way their notes met — the kind that only forms when people grow up together, argue together, forgive together, and keep choosing one another anyway. What came out of those harmonies wasn’t technique alone. It was relationship. Fans didn’t just listen. They attached. These songs moved quietly into people’s lives and stayed there. They played at weddings and during heartbreaks. They filled long drives and late nights when the world felt heavy. The music didn’t demand attention — it offered company. And that is why it lasted. You can’t manufacture that kind of connection. You can’t schedule it. You can’t fake it. You have to live it. The Bee Gees lived it — through success and backlash, through reinvention and loss, through moments when harmony was effortless and moments when it had to be rebuilt. And because it was real, the world could feel it. Every falsetto line. Every shared breath. Every pause where three brothers trusted the silence. That is why their legacy endures. Not just because of the songs. Not just because of the harmonies. But because what people heard was love, translated into sound — and the world was lucky enough to witness it.