I haven’t felt out of place recently, or out of place by definition of anachronism. Sure we’ve all felt incongruous at times, on those occasions when we wear plaid skirts and Pippi long-stockings in the 21st century. Last night, however, I did some time travelling. I saw The Breakfast Club.
I don’t think much has changed since the days of The Breakfast Club. Social barriers are still prevalent, especially in primeval high school societies. Visit most high schools, and you’ll find Type A doesn’t talk to Type B, who flirts with Type C but can’t bear being seen with Type D. No we are not talking about blood types! We’re talking about categorization, something we shouldn’t do here, yet we do. Yet, in some hippie commune (or detention room) where we are all forced to get along for the sole purpose of survival, we have The Breakfast Club, the one and only circumstance in which badass Bender and Molly Ringwald are “going steady.”
I didn’t feel out of place because it was the 1980s, but because this phase of my life–“high school” is dead and gone. I’m venturing off to new sights with new faces. That’s right–college! Hopefully categorizing isn’t something we there.