If I had pop culture parents, they would be Judy Blume and John Hughes.
In the spring of 1978, my family spent a few days in Carmel, California. For a seven-year-old raised on Maryland beaches, Pacific waves were cold and violent. I swallowed a lot of ocean water one afternoon, which left me pretty nauseous. So my father took me for a Coke. Which worked. We also stopped into a book store (the kind Meg Ryan owned in “You’ve Got Mail,” not the behemoth Tom Hanks owned). That’s where I picked up “Tales Of A Fourth Grade Nothing.” And that’s where I fell for Judy Blume. I’ve said it before (heck, I named a record after her in homage), and I’m not alone in the sentiment: she made braces, pimples, and crushes all right. She me awkward acceptable.
Likewise John Hughes. I distinctly remember going to “Sixteen Candles” with my brother at the Anthony Wayne Twin on Lancaster Avenue in suburban Philadelphia. Sure, it made us laugh, but the boom mic kept slipping into the top of the frame. We thought it was just ok. We thought it was pretty shoddy. We thought it was just another teen movie, not a cultural touchstone. Not that we knew anything. We didn’t go to a ton of movies. No one was blogging his or her reviews, or sneak peaking trailers and clips. Entertainment Tonight was just a few years old. Al Gore was still thinking up the Internet. There was no buzz machine, just Siskel & Ebert.
Here we are, though, twenty-two years later. John Hughes has long since sold out (“Maid In Manhattan” anyone?), but he’s got some major laurels to rest on, three of which are on my all-time favorite list: “Sixteen Candles,” “The Breakfast Club,” and “Weird Science.” (Heck, I even liked “She’s Having A Baby.”)
So, as you know, my job’s a lot like any other. I have a desk, and a computer, and spend a lot of time emailing and scheduling and such. Occasionally, though, my job has it perks. Today it was Paramount Home Video’s dual contribution to my DVD collection: “Pretty In Pink” and “Some Kind Of Wonderful.” So I popped ’em in and took a ride in the way back machine…
But listen, time is short. Much as I’d like to dissect the socio-political considerations of alienation within Reagan era suburban academia, there’s really just one thing I wanna’ say.
Why the hell did Andie end up with Blane and not Duckie? What kind of Voodoo economic bullshit is that?
(This is, of course, I rhetorical question; I went to high school.)