We lost Patrick Swayze today. He finally lost his battle to cancer. People in Hollywood say he was a fabulous guy — as a person and to work with. I'm sure he was. But I, like the most everyone else, only knew Patrick Swayze through his movies.
My memories of him will be fond ones.
-- Sitting in the theater with my girlfriends, clutching our popcorn, as we watch Johnny Castle teach Baby the "moves" in Dirty Dancing. Then as the credits rolled deciding we probably needed to see it again the next night too.
-- Endless arguments with my little sister why Patrick Swayze is sexier than Ralph Macchio in The Outsiders. I mean, get serious, look at them?!
-- Wondering why I'm watching Point Break every time it's on TV. I've literally lost count how many times I've watched Bohdi paddle out to his final wave.
-- Reading about how many people took pottery classes after watching Ghost. I didn't take pottery classes, but my husband does make pottery. Coincidence? I think not.
I don't know what constitutes a great life. But if you leave people with a lot of fabulous memories, that's gotta be way up there.
di
Posts
0 comments:
Post a Comment