Ode to John Hughes 1st vol.1st issue Dec’2013
(American filmmaker: Feb 18, 1950 – August 6, 2009)
“Life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and take a look once in awhile, you could miss it” – Ferris Bueller.
I wanted to save my dandruff for winter.
I wanted the school’s most-wanted truant to give me his stud earring then French kiss me in the library.
I wanted my heart to break out and lip-synch to Try A Little Tenderness.
I wanted Psychedelic Furs to accompany my pink, beat-up imaginary Karmann Ghia to the Senior Prom.
I drove a second-hand white Ford Escort.
I gave my date a Swatch watch in lieu of a corsage.
I was scared straight-acting at the time.
I wanted the auto mechanic to run after my tears.
I wanted him to kiss me on the wrong side of the tracks.
I twice made out on the right side of track and field.
“I am not a nymphomaniac, I am a compulsive liar.”
I reserved high-intensity feelings for dickheads in Izods and low ones for waistoids in Fred Perrys and Sperry Topsiders.
I was a dweeb with a staple gun to my heart.
I wanted to eat John Bender’s shorts.
I mohawked my mornings in the shower.
I once was mistaken for a lesbian drummer.
I wanted red for hair, stud my leather shoes, do society a favor.
I never had my hairy butt duct-taped by a wrestler.
And no way would I sacrifice a Saturday to tell you who you are.
I was poor, I was fashion conscious, I was Goodwill incarnate.
I wanted a rich, hypochondriac, son of a Ferrari-freak for a sidekick.
I wanted to be smitten by a bland guy named Blane, conquer the ballroom with his hand in mine.
I wanted to be Some Kind of Wonderful to my toupee-wearing Band teacher.
I wanted the principal to hound me like a second shadow.
I wanted Ben Stein to be my Economics teacher.
“Bueller… Bueller … Bueller.”
But my high school could only afford a part-time Social Studies teacher.
S.S. was Econ on welfare.
I wanted to pretend I’m Sausage King of Windy City.
I wanted to be geek, jock, basket case, prom queen, criminal.
I wanted all of the above.
Until I realized I was.
I wanted to get away with murder and with the murderer too, throw confetti on Chicago, sing Danke Schoen on a magnificent-mile-long float.
Danke schoen, John Hughes, danke schoen.
R. Zamora Linmark
R. Zamora Linmark is the author of two novels, Rolling the R’s and Leche, and three collections of poetry — Prime Time Apparitions, The Evolution of a Sigh, and Drive-By Vigils. He is currently living in Miami, where he is Distinguished Visiting Associate Professor in Creative Writing at the University of Miami.