Losing someone that represents a part of your history is weird. Sometimes you say, damn, how sad. But then there are those who hurt a little bit more than what you thought it would. To me, losing John Hughes is big time sad. Hey, I'm not crying or anything, but it still is painful. Why?
There are two great characters that he wrote that I could totally relate to. I was Sam in Sixteen Candles. Awkward, insecure at times, daydreaming and purely in love with dudes that seemed way out of my league. Later I was Allison (no hair dandruff, glad to report) in Breakfast Club. Troubled, dark clothing lover, shy (can you believe that one?) and sort of mysterious by accident.
Did I get my Jake at the end? Yep, I did. Did I leave all my troubles behind and embrace a life full of color and less heavy makeup? Uh huh, that too. Oh! I forgot... Pretty in Pink! Did I have a Duckie and did not end up with him? Yep. My Duckie, by the way, had his baby girl born a week ago.
But John Hughes got to me. He understood being a teenager or a tween. Being a child of the 80's meant that you were depressed and not in a "poser" way, like these piece of shit emo's of today. We really were sad, we really felt lost, we really wore black because we kind of hated everything. At the same time, we embraced life as no other generation, we danced, we laughed... it was a very bizarre time. And he got it.
He made little teens like me get excited over boys and the possibility that true love was just around the corner. He made us think that being "just one of the guys" was cool and by the way, you could get your guy in the end just like the snobby high class chick. He made nerds cool for a while, even.
Some directors have connected with me over the different stages of my life. My childhood remains with John. Period.
So Hughey boy, I thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Hope God has a deal for you to write a great movie starring Jesus and George Carlin or something. The kids of the 80's and I love you dearly.
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