This. I believe it's the guest book for John Hughes, the one for those of us who have no business at the wake. We're not family or friends, but we're touched never the less.
That's some damn good stuff. I sent a message to her. Maybe I'll have a new pen pal. If not, I have someone to grow from in my Reader feed every morning.
It forced me to think about John Hughes, who I don't think of much, but he sounds from that like one of the good ones. I doubt you'll find this Alison, but thanks again.
So, I'm thinking about being an awkward kid again. I'm thinking about that first time I saw The Breakfast Club and the first time I saw myself in that movie. There was a moment in there where some of the youth slipped off of me. I remember realizing that the enemy is often us. The easy way to take that is that we ambush our wonderful intentions on a regular basis, but that's not what I mean.
When I was 14 I thought of myself as a god of sorts. No, not the arrogant thing you think reading this, in fact I remember a great deal of self loathing. To paraphrase Nietzsche, however, one still respects oneself as this entity that can hate itself so very commandingly. I found myself to be the entire world.
And as I was inventing every thing, feeling and person I had the self image any maudlin god would have. I was the authority on moral issues and stood still in the center of the universe.
I couldn't tell you where it was in the movie The Breakfast Club where I realized that if I was going to continue to identify with the angst and helplessness of the Jock, the Misfit, the prom queen, etc I was going to have to look at the moral ambiguity of their positions. Must have been the part right after they smoked pot.
I had to face the asshole I am. The bad decisions I make. The petty cruelties and the endless selfishness. It was somewhere in the middle of a coming of age film that I came of age and made the jump from a kid who owned the world and could only be a victim of it to the road leading to a life as a small player in a big world, but with more control and a shot at joy here and there.
Thanks, John Hughes, and thanks for the reminder, Alison Byrne Fields.