Reminiscing: The Breakfast Club
One of the last, best days I ever had with my Dad was a day in the Summer when I was 16. If I remember correctly, he had taken the day off due to some pain he had been having in his back and his leg. He was okay enough to do some things that day, but I remember he was just trying to rest, and we didn’t know yet that all of that pain was because of the aggressive cancer growing in his spine. Mom was at work, and Aaron was at a friends house I believe… I honestly can’t remember that part 100%, but all that mattered was that I had my Dad all to myself that day. I remember him taking Ibuprofen and Tylenol like candy all day to keep the pain at bay, and he never once complained about it to me; he even tried to make a day of it in between his resting. Present day me could not be more thankful for that, or I wouldn’t have this beloved good memory safely snuggled away, right before the rug got yanked out from under us.
My Dad had always mentioned a movie called The Breakfast Club to me throughout my teenage life battling high school years, but he was hesitant to let me watch it because of some of the language and scenes in it. My Dad was very particular about language and other “bad” things in movies we would watch as a family. He really tried to preserve as much of our younger innocence as he could, although I’m sure he knew that we would watch things over at other people’s houses, or that we had been exposed to things as it happens over the years - he just tried to be blissfully unaware. But this fateful day, my Dad asked me if I wanted to take a drive up to Blockbuster (hey! Remember those?!) to get a movie, and that I could drive. I had my license but I didn’t have my own car just yet (that is another fun story I’ll be sure to share eventually), so Dad would let me drive our Explorer. Of course I said yes, and I asked him what movie we were getting. Dad looked down at me with a smile and said “I want to watch The Breakfast Club with you.” Finally, we were going to watch The Breakfast Club together. I’ve watched many a movie with my dad, and when he was intent about watching something with me or us as a family, you knew it was going to be good… or very special.
Like the day he made me watch Father of the Bride with him and made me swear that I’d make the man I was going to marry watch it with me before we got married - a promise I kept.
Like the day we watched the TV version’s of Dead Poet’s Society, and Good Will Hunting and he showed me that Robin Williams was absolutely brilliant even far beyond his charisma and hilariousness.
I could go on and on and on… me and dad, we loved a good movie. I know he’s up in heaven so he’s not really missing out, but man, I wish we could watch some of my favorites together that he never got to see with me.
Anyway, I digress…
We get in the Explorer and immediately roll down the windows, like me and Dad always did when the weather was nice out, and I remember listening to Foo Fighters, POD, and Boston on the way. We sang as the wind rushed through the windows and the sunshine beat down on our skin. We didn’t care how we looked driving and singing at the top of our lungs going down the road, and we smiled and laughed a lot during the drive there. Dad would always act like he was playing a keyboard on the dash of the car, and the guitar parts on either the steering wheel or his seatbelt. Never a dull moment with that silly man. It’s where I learned how to be such an excellent solo car performer, if I do say so myself.
We get there and we start going to the row where the movie should be. If you remember Blockbuster, everything was in alphabetical order typically, and there would be genres in the middle of the store with the newer releases on the walls. This movie was older, so we go to the middle of the store and start looking for it. I can still remember the smell of the place. I can still see the black metal wire shelves and racks in this particular one. I can still see the packaged popcorn and candy up by the front. I can still remember how the movie cases felt and how you couldn’t open them without first checking them out and having the little side piece removed. I think I might even still have Dad’s old Blockbuster card somewhere. But most of all, I can still remember Dad’s face as he found The Breakfast Club on the shelf. I had been into Blockbuster lots of time with lots of people, but this one will forever stick in my memory. I will never forget the gentle smile that crept over Dad’s face as he picked up the movie and looked at it, and the way he turned towards me as he said “I found it” and showed it to me like he was holding a gift.
Little did I know that it would be a gift in its own way. That whole day was; but especially watching that movie, just me and Dad. He was about to instill some great life lessons in me all inspired by 5 kids in detention. And it would be the last movie I would ever watch with my Dad. I wish I would have known.
So there we were, in the living room, watching The Breakfast Club. I could tell there were moments when Dad was trying to hold back from quoting too loud over the movie (a habit that I inherited most definitely from him - I quote all the movies, all the time), and I ended up laughing along with Dad at all the best parts, and sitting intently absorbing the serious parts as Dad watched me take it all in. Then before I knew it, we were at the glorious end; Bender raises his fist up in the air as he walks off and “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” by The Simple Minds plays and you’re left feeling everything all at once.
I remember saying “Wow, that was really good” and my Dad saying “It is…” looking towards me with a smile, and then he gave me a look like he had more to say. It was the classic Dad look of “now we’re going to discuss and dissect this.” Usually those talks came after we just took in something with some heaviness to it and he wanted to be sure that we got it all and he wanted to see how it settled into our brains and how it made us feel. The thing is, Dad always wanted us to understand things. He wanted us to always see the bigger picture and fully grasp deep meanings to certain things that he knew were important. The Breakfast Club has some things in it that are very important and he knew it. The biggest things he wanted me to learn from the movie were: 1 - that everyone has something they’re dealing with and not everything is always as it seems on the outside, 2 - don’t be afraid to bare your soul with others and share your story because you never know how it can change things, and 3 - when you grow up, don’t look down on youth and treat them poorly or without patience and kindness. Kids (especially teens) struggle a lot and they need someone to look to for guidance and love.
Those lessons were important, just like my Dad knew they would be. Not just for my high school self at the time, but for the rest of my life. I carry them still. That day and that movie with my Dad changed me a little bit forever. I never saw people the same way, and I started to be more open with people. It’s why I always try to give people the benefit of the doubt, or try to put myself in their shoes. It’s why I am pretty much an open book now whenever people want to talk to me, and you know what, it might even be why I’m not afraid to write things that share my soul. And now that I’m an adult, I look at younger generations with kinder eyes and I am eager and willing to pass along whatever wisdom I have, and shower them with love and support.
So maybe in the end, he waited for the right time for me to watch it, not just because of some language… but so I would be old enough to absorb the underlying meanings and see it as more than just an old 80’s movie about some kind of messed up teens who landed themselves in detention - and then smoked happy grass in the library. I love how much my Dad appreciated depth and insightfulness, and it’s something I also appreciate as I’ve grown up. I still love to talk about movies and TV shows in depth and what they meant etc. and I wish he was here to do that with me still. I didn’t appreciate it enough when I was 16… but good grief, I fiercely appreciate it now. What a great movie. What a great day. What a cherished memory.
To this day, “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” is one of my all time favorite songs, and The Breakfast Club is one of my all time favorite movies. Every time I hear that song, or see the movie, everything from that day comes flooding back. The day my Dad introduced me to 5 teens in detention, and in some ways, helped introduce me to more of myself. I look forward to the day I can sit down with my kiddo and do the same.
