Besides the fact that I'm a week late, there's really no reason that I should be saying dick about the life and work of John Hughes.  I say this not because I'm biased against him or I need to disclose some sort of precondition that makes me ethically ineligible to pass judgment in this particular situation.  I say this because I'm a rare case: I'm probably one of a small handful of pop culture obsessed near-thirty year olds who has a very minor relationship with his work; either I was too young or too sheltered in my youth, but his work never meant a great deal to me.  Sure, I've seen the Breakfast Club and I've seen Ferris Bueller, but I haven't seen Pretty in Pink in its entirety and have seen maybe 60% of Sixteen Candles total after about twelve attempted viewings, on VHS and cable.  It might be sacrilege, but I kind of hate his films, or at least they mean nothing to me.  But that doesn't mean that they aren't totally representative of their era; in fact, my dispassion for them might validate how iconic they truly are.

As I walked up the handicap ramp to the Denny’s outside my hotel in Raleigh, NC, I cringed watching the sloth-like line of customers entering this marvel of American cuisine.  I’d never been to a Denny’s sober before.  I watched and judged these people wondering if I could possibly look like I belonged here as much as they did, but I had no choice, it was the only eatery for miles.  While waiting to be seated, I watched a man unsuccessfully try to fit into a booth.  His enormous pot-belly wouldn't clear the table.  This man would need a different seat.

A waitress named Rahnay, fresh out of her hair curlers, led me to a booth and served me a much needed coffee.  I mulled over the options, Lumberjack Slam, Moons over My-Hammy, how could I choose with so many delicious options? "Does the scrapple come with a barf-bag?", I asked.  "No sir, it does not." "Then I'll have the American Slam," I said begrudgingly. "Would you care for a side of spam?" "I'd better not."

Forget your natural cynicism and just accept that Thanksgiving is awesome. Elle Scoots has 5 great pieces of evidence.

What appliance has meant more to our lives in these past 10 years than the cell phone? Nate Katz has taken every turn, hit every pot hole, and has even ridden in the carpool lane on the road that is the journey of the cell phone.