Kelly Robinson had her birthday sleepover and I truly felt so happy to be invited. Her mom was un-Mommy-like because she was super young and pretty and wore a lot of mascara. We had craft time and made little round boxes with potpourri on the top sealed with a hot glue gun, lace, and ribbon. I put all my money in that box for years!

Kelly’s uncle had been working on set or somehow on this movie that hadn’t come out yet. We were 7 and squealing hysterically when she unveiled the gleaming black VHS tape. It was the film we had all heard so much about, “Dirty Dancing” which had been filmed at Smith Mountain Lake that was up the road a ways. It was our Holy Grail. We all wished we were Baby and Johnny was so hot. 

After that late night viewing (12am), everywhere I walked was as if I were Jennifer Grey practicing her dance on the log in her white pants and Keds. Every car window seemed breakable by some hunky dancer’s angst (especially if it was raining). Patrick Swayze, you were our first crush. Each sleepover thereafter, you were what we measured the silly boys against. We ate Nerds (watermelon is the best!), convinced they made us hysterically hyper and told tales of how we would kiss you, simulating it with our pillows. You were the shit and we all wanted to be like the wind.

Patrick, You Heartbreaker, You. We love you.

Here he is being funny sexy with big man, Chris Farley (RIP).