To understand a little about the kind of person I was in
high school, I probably need only tell you that a movie I and my friends wanted
to see was Leaving Las Vegas, Mike
Figgis’s film about an alcoholic who decides to drink himself to death and
strikes up an odd relationship with a prostitute. And believe me when I tell
you it had nothing to do with seeing Elisabeth Shue’s (star of childhood
favorite Adventures in Babysitting)
breasts. A friend and I went to see it because it had challenging subject
matter, because it was a reprieve from the usual populist fare. If I was like
that at 17, then imagine how my taste runs today.
