Talking to the mirror

John Hughes, the man who basically shaped my musical mind, has died at the age of 59. Tonight, in his memory I watched "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" and am in the process of making a playlist for my iPod. Since many of his films did not have soundtrack albums, over the years I've collected songs on my own from other collections, Napster, iTunes, etc. There are a lot of things I want to add, but I need to convert then from vinyl records. Specifically "Turn to the Sky" by The March Violets from the soundtrack to "Some Kind Of Wonderful".

Anyway, it will be nice to have a good playlist, as I love all of this music. I was checking his IMDB listing to make sure I was getting the best from the best movies, and learned that he wrote the story (screenplay was someone else) for "Maid in Manhattan". I'm not so embarrassed to like that movie anymore.

And I think it's ironic that his death occurred the day before my class reunion. It's like the fates needed to bring it home that my childhood is GONE.

Way to take someone else's tragedy and make it your own, Xan. Dork.

I'll be rocking out to some of the best music of the 80s and quoting for the next week or so. And I'll be talking to myself in the mirror, I'm sure. I'll start now with the quoting:

Kenny'd talk. Alex? Alex would be okay, but Kenny, Kenny'd talk, he'd crack.

They don't close Florida, Clark.

Sweets? You couldn't ignore me if you tried.

How about a nice, greasy pork sandwich served in a dirty ashtray?

Only the meek get pinched, the bold survive.

You beat my face!
You grabbed my nuts.
That you?
Yeah, "that me".

You're completely full of shit, and she knows it.

You look good wearing my future.

I washed all my major crevices including in between my toes and in my belly button. Which I never did before, but sort of enjoyed.