Elizabeth Reinking
Staff Writer
This is the third time I’ve tried to write this column. I’ve been writing a weekly column for this paper now for going on three semesters, and every week I feel like I have worse writer’s block than the week before. I just keep staring at my blank Word document, but not even my friend Clippy, the Microsoft Word assistant, has any words of advice for me. In fact, the only time that little dude ever actually has something to say is if “it looks like you’re writing a letter. Can I help?” Thanks, but no — I’m pretty sure I can handle the indenting on my own. Now, if Clippy could ever see his little metal heinie into helping me out with bullet point formatting, maybe I’d keep him around. As it is, he’s just distracting me from my real quest.
The real problem, I think, lies not with me, but with TBS. What has happened with these guys? I can’t really remember ever thinking about them one way or the other until this year. And suddenly, TBS is where I spent the majority of my TV time. Well, that’s not true. I spend an abnormally large amount of hours parked in front of my TV, with no one channel hogging the whole spotlight. But TBS gets a remarkable number of these hours. What can I say? They’re very funny. And where else can a television enthusiast like myself find modern classics such as “Maid to Order,” that 1987 masterpiece about Ally Sheedy’s voyage of self-discovery as a housemaid after her caustic fairy godmother takes away all of her money and makes her father forget she exists?
Man, I cannot get enough 1980s romantic comedies. In fact, I think there should be an entire channel devoted solely to the Brat Pack. How ridiculous would it be, really? There are already channels for the NFL, for game shows and for soap operas. Every TV special interest there is has a channel catering specifically to their whacked-out tastes. I’d like 24 hours a day devoted to the angsty trials and tribulations of Molly Ringwald and Company. Is that so wrong?
Personally, I find ‘80s movies to be oddly comforting. They’re cheesy in an entirely different, more bizarre way than the romantic comedies of my teenage hey-day. I mean, look at Molly Ringwald. This girl is like my hero. She freaks out about everything; she’s such a total drama queen. Her method of letting boys know she likes them consists either of staring creepily at them during study hall or by putting on lipstick using only her cleavage. Then she wears perfectly heinous dresses, but ends up getting the guy regardless. I’d call it unfair, but let’s face it, it’s mostly just awesome.
The way I watch John Hughes movies now makes me wonder about how the teenagers of tomorrow (I hesitate to say my own kids) will watch my own beloved vehicles of teenage angst. Is “She’s All That” the next “Sixteen Candles” or “Pretty in Pink”? Because while I hold a deep and abiding love for these movies, I must admit that I watch them with more than a little attitude of underlying scorn and derision, and it saddens me that teenagers will someday look at that dreamboat of yesteryear, Freddie Prinze, Jr., and say “Wow. He is so not cute. What’s up with that hairstyle?”
Actually, it doesn’t really sadden me. To tell the truth, I’m prettyexcited about it. Because right now, I don’t know what’s so ridiculous about the clothes I wore in high school, and the way we wore our hair. To me, all of the prom dresses at our prom were just pretty, not laughably awful, and I can’t see how people in the next decade will be able to mock us. Well, except that one girl who made her dress out of duct tape. I mean, the glue-on rhinestones were a nice touch, but industrial-strength tape product just isn’t flattering on anyone. Trust me.
Oh, right, my column. So the elections are finally over. Well, now they are. I’m writing this on Sunday, so technically they’re not over yet. I trust they went well. And if you didn’t vote, I hope P. Diddy didn’t cap you or anything. I’d make a clever comment here about our new (or renewed) President, but I don’t actually know who it is. And hey, who knows — maybe you don’t yet, either. That’s awesome. Much like the Brat Pack. And TBS.
11-4-2004
