I MISS JOHN HUGHES
It’s not my birthday.
I’m not that old. Yet. Unless you ask my kids. But, then, the younger one still mixes up the days of the week and the older one has no concept what “I’ll be there in a minute means”, so they probably aren’t the best judges of the degree to which I am ancient.
There’s been no great trauma. No near death experience.
I’m feeling…nostalgic? Wistful? Dunno.
I miss John Hughes movies. Everyone talks about Sixteen Candles and Pretty in Pink, but my favorites were Weird Science and The Breakfast Club.
I miss Saturday morning cartoons. I know there are whole channels devoted to cartoons 24/7 now, but that’s the point. There was something great about waiting all week to get up early on Saturday morning to park in front of your pals on TV. The Superfriends. Bugs Bunny. Fat Albert. Scooby-Doo. Throw in huge (guilt-free) bowls of Cocoa Puffs or Cap’n Crunch and that’s a perfect kid morning.
I miss summer vacation. The last day of school, sure. But also fireflies and fresh cut grass and cousin Mike’s annual visit (that’s how I discovered Doctor Who – thanks, Mike!) The chill when you go from ninety degrees outside to the freezer section at the grocery store. And long expanses of time with nothing to do and being just fine with that.
I miss Twinkies. I mean Twinkies back when I didn’t know or care what was in them.
I miss the scuff marks on my shoes from stopping my bicycle with my feet instead of the brakes.
I miss walking to the park and stopping to get a strawberry crush – in a glass bottle! – out of the machine at the gas station.
I miss a time when I didn’t miss things from a time before that.