Suburban Kvetch

Dirty Dancing from the olden days of 1987

In 1987, at 23 years old, I went to movies without really knowing what they were about. I mean, there was no internet - at least not as far as I was concerned. We learned about movies from TV commercial and GASP — newspaper advertisements. Those usually black and white ads lead us to search the paper for times and theaters nearby. I think I chose movies with a ‘why not’ philosophy. I do know that I went to see Dirty Dancing with no idea at all what it would be about.

So my sister-friend and I drove to the movie theater (that is now a Target, I hear) — probably in a tiny white Datsun — and drooled and hyperventialted smiled and bobbed and tapped our feet for an hour and a half.  And like gazillions of others that movie became one of my all-time favorites and not only an roadmap for dancing (as if!) but a touchstone for all things romantic.

I’ve never been to the Catskills but, face it, does that matter if you can sing the Kellerman’s anthem? Since that day I’ve watched the movie countless times on TV — it’s the kind of movie that makes me put down the remote control and pay attention no matter where in the 105 minutes I happen to land.

Especially here. Really, do we even need the rest of the movie? Yes, we do.  I’m on a cyberhunt to secure my own copy…and will review it ad nauseam for the sake of history and in memory of Patrick Swayze.

Oh right, and Jennifer Grey’s nose.