Earlier this year, I spooled up St. Elmo's Fire on one of our streaming services. I didn't see this 1985 Brat Pack flick when it was originally released and only caught it on VHS many years later. I don't know why I was drawn to rewatch it because as all the storylines unfolded, from the perspective of someone who's trod this sod for 50 plus years, it was chock full of self-inflicted youthful angst and interpersonal dysfunction. But I really dug the soundtrack.
As for the interweaving storylines, one of the more cringe, at least for me, was Kirby's (Emilio Estevez) attempts to woo Dale (Andie MacDowell). The lengths and predicaments Kirby willingly put himself in to gain her attention were astounding. As his attempts escalated in absurdity, I was continuously face palming and yelling at the screen, "Kirby, my dude. Chill! She's just not in to you!"
One would think Kirby's actions were just typical Hollywood tropes to create drama for the character's arc. Why would anyone put themselves through that much trouble for a non-interested party? But then that damned introspection kicks in, and as I began to recall certain events, I realized why Kirby's story hit a nerve.
But I wasn't alone in my version of self-inflicted, youthful angst.
One spring day, in the lunch cafeteria at good ol' Long Beach Senior High, my buddy Mike and I were seated across the table from a guy who was seriously in the doldrums. Apparently, a young lady he was crushing on big time barely knew he existed. But this dude had a plan.
Over the course of that lunch period, Dude laid out a course of action that started with a respectable gift of flowers but escalated quickly to include a limo, hot air balloon ride, and, I kid you not, a sky writer to proclaim his love against the backdrop of an azure sky.
I cast a sideways glance at Mike with the stealthiest "WTF, man?" look I could muster. While not a close acquaintance, Dude was on the periphery of the tribe I ran with, and I didn't know him to be unhinged. I don't remember the feedback we gave him, but I'd like to think we upheld the Bro Code and talked him off the ledge. I never heard about any restraining orders on campus, nor do I remember an "I ♥ You" emblazoned in the sky, so perhaps we succeeded.
By comparison, my attempts to "shoot my shot" seemed tame.
In 7th grade, I asked Mom to pick up a corsage as I wanted to give it to a specific girl at our band's upcoming spring recital. The night of the concert I realized the small bouquet was a pin-on rather than a wrist corsage. Twelve year old me didn't want to risk stabbing the cute French horn player, so I just sheepishly handed it to her, bulky plastic packaging and all. Now, Mom was under the impression that all the boys in band were giving corsages to the girls as part of the program. Imagine her surprise and amusement when only one girl walked into the auditorium wearing a corsage that night.
On another occasion, I handcuffed myself to another young lady I was crushing on. Fortunately, like Dude's crush, she didn't file a restraining order either, but that's another post.
I apparently, like Kirby, didn't know when to call it quits. By now, the cute French Horn player and I were in high school. I was indeed a glutton for punishment, because in my addled brain I thought it would be a good idea to serenade her. In public. In front of her friends. This actually was another post, documented in all its embarrassing glory in Rock-tober 22, 2015.
Apart from the realization that Kirby and I walked a similar path, my best take away from St. Elmo's Fire was the soundtrack. "Man In Motion" was a big hit, but what pulled me in was the instrumental version of "Love Theme". I got my hands on the sheet music for piano and managed to memorize the piece. Years later, at a student center I frequented in college, I found a piano in one of the rooms. Since it was the only song I knew by heart, I played it often as I found it to be a good stress reliever. My one song repertoire sparked many conversations, and, not surprisingly, I found it less traumatic than singing my heart out to a lady. It was damn sure easier than pulling in a hot air balloon and sky writer.
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