Zenitude #13: We Are All A Bit "Breakfast Club Ally"

How can it be that it was 30 years ago that The Breakfast Club movie made its debut? Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was 17 and dancing to the Footloose tape (yes, I wrote TAPE!) outside of my girlfriend’s old, beat up Toyota Corolla (aka “the hyena”)? It was like driving Fred Flinstone’s car. If you put your feet down too hard on the passenger’s side, your feet would actually GO THROUGH THE FLOORBOARD! We Jerry-rigged the tape deck with a Popsicle stick so we could play tapes (i.e, The Police, Footloose, etc.) True story.

(Note to Reader: Whether or not you remember this movie, if you went to high school in the 20s, 40s, 60s, 80s or today, you’ll understand the following descriptions because they deal with stereotypes in high school and being a teenager.)

So back to The Breakfast Club (re-released this month at a theater near you on March 26, 2015). I totally loved that movie (still do). There was something in almost every character that I related to. Cue the music: “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” by Simple Minds.

Judd Nelson represented the “hot bad boys” (my generation called “burn outs”) that I wanted to just make out with until the sun came up. True fantasy. All the time. The Wild Child, Wild Heart in me that was forever fighting to come out and play in high school. Even today, I’d hang out and eat crackers in bed with him (and, yes, he looks totally different -- and he's 55!).

Check out the clip from the March 10, 2015 Today Show.

Molly Ringwald represented high school princesses – I didn’t WANT to relate to her, but based on my religious upbringing, I had to. Ugh. And I went through that “skinny tie on a girl” phase, too. One tie was even light purple (think musical group, The Cars). What were we thinking? (Again, reminder -- the 80s will not be calling – get rid of stuff in your closet.)

Emilio Estevez was The Jock. I had one athlete guy that broke my heart – okay, maybe two (Gasp! Mom, stop reading this part!) Well, we kinda went back and forth with young heart love from 6th grade until sophomore year in high school when he finally realized that I was a religious nutso and it was never going to work out. <insert religion issues – that are far, far, far away from me now>

Anthony Michael Hall represented the brain. I was studious. I was Honor Society. I had a GPA of something that was typical A-Type personality and wanted to rip it all away and be hot and heavy with a “Judd Nelson.” Be still my beating loins.

And then, Ally Sheedy, representing “the basket case.” I related. You wouldn’t have known it by the way I dressed and my studious stereotype. But inside – she was me. The recluse. The one dressed in black. And at 17…weren’t we all a bit “Ally” – thinking we were alone, but eventually realizing that everyone else was just like us on the inside.

So I leave you with the link, letter from the Breakfast Club and today’s Zen-itude:

Dear Mr. Vernon, We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it is we did wrong, but we think you're crazy for making us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us, in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out, is that each one of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. Does that answer your question? Sincerely yours, The Breakfast Club

Zenitude for today:

Perhaps we are a bit “Breakfast Club Ally” throughout our lives. And that’s okay. Because through this Universal journey, we find out – we are not alone.