balding angrily

For anyone reading this who doesn’t know, I’m a moderator over at the Filmspotting boards. We discuss movies and our favorite podcasters, AdamandSam. A while back, they gave their “So Bad They’re Good” Top 5 list. Xanadu was on someone’s list, and I’ve been mulling this over for the months since that podcast. In general I can’t get into camp, but I have some exceptions; Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion is one.

I’m not a vinyl collector, but I appreciate them. I found my original Like A Virgin album that my brother and sister gave to me on my 14th birthday in the attic this past weekend. Let’s hope I’m not holding on to my old vinyl for nothing. Hopefully Jerry’s nieces will pull these out of our space-age, space-saving device when we’re dead and have a good laugh.

A couple of years ago I was looking through some vinyl bins at a garage sale, and I saw the soundtrack to Dirty Dancing. I made an audible sex noise, like I just had a mini-rubdown. I was moments from pulling out my wallet to buy it when a guy standing behind me said, “Believe me; you don’t want that. I went through my ironic phase also…you don’t want that.” I looked him up and down, saw that he was hipper than me, and put the album back in the bin. When I think back on that exchange, I realize that I wasn’t being ironic. I really, truly would love to have that soundtrack right now. I know this because I’m also sitting here listening to the soundtrack to Xanadu. I don’t like Xanadu because I’m trying to be ironic. I don’t think that Xanadu is so bad it’s good, or so bad it’s bad; I think that Xanadu is so good it’s awesome.

Granted I haven’t seen the movie in years. But when I was young I used to wish that I could fly into the sky powered by a Nagel-esque neon outline surrounding me. I also used to turn around with my arms out hoping that I would turn into Wonder Woman via an exploding belly button.