Footloose at Forty

Footloose at forty.

This one hurts.

Not that I was a fan boy.

I didn’t have the poster.

I think my brother had the vinyl.

But this news that Footloose turned forty on February 17, 2024, rang like a bell and made me sad.

That story of the out-of-town kid

(if I’m remembering correctly)

turning the town upside down

through the power of music (and dancing)

resonated with the fantasy version of my own young life,

moving from New York to Connecticut as a tween and

dreaming of being a rock star.

Footloose was subversive.

In the all-American era of Reagan,

Footloose questioned the old laws and old ways that didn’t make sense any more.

It was a Rocky fight, with music and youth.

In this era of banned books and book burning,

a straw man story could break the cult-like stupor.

I need to watch it again.

It’s been forty years.

So, why am I sad?

This spring, the cherry blossoms will come again, but

I’m thinking of the first time I saw them.

Those blossoms are long gone.

That tree is gone.

That kid is gone.

That dream is gone.

Thanks, Kevin.