Over the last few months, I’ve been nostalgic for the 80s. I’m not sure why, but I’ve been especially eager for 80′s soundtracks. The other day, I tweeted that typing Kenny Loggins in to the artist tag of LastFM brought me so much happiness, I could barely contain myself. What I didn’t mention was how much 80′s soundtrack music Mr. Loggins shook loose in the LastFM directory. Where I was happy before, I was in total bliss now.

I’m highlighting a few of the songs that changed my life and still, to this day, take me to a special place every time I hear them. I hope it kicks the dust off of a few of your 80s favorites, too.

Take My Breath Away

Artist: Berlin
Movie: Top Gun (1986)

Love Theme

Artist: Stan Whitmire
Movie: St. Elmo’s Fire (1985)

If You Leave

Artist: OMD
Movie: Pretty In Pink (1986)

Cry Little Sister

Artist: Sisters of Mercy
Movie: The Lost Boys (1987)

Glory Of Love

Artist: Peter Cetera
Movie: The Karate Kid II (1986)

I’m Alright

Artist: Kenny Loggins
Movie: Caddyshack (1980)

The Heat Is On

Artist: Glenn Frey
Movie: Beverly Hills Cop (1984)

Of course, these aren’t the only songs I think of when I think 80′s movies. The list could go on and on but, even by blogging standards, I don’t think I have enough room to list them all. And I’m sure I’m missing some real gems.

Cover Image: Graffiti by ~JESSboo on deviantART

Is LeBron James leaving?

At first, it was dismissed. So overwhelmingly disgusted by the performance of a team we’ve loved, adored, and suffered with over the years, we decided it might be best for our mental well-being not to care. And that worked for a little while. But then the whispers because screams from mountain tops. The King is holding the city hostage while his minions stand wait below, savoring any morsel he would happen to drop. Like earlier episodes of LOST, every interview he does, every appearance he makes, every hand gesture, every smile, is analyzed.

“He showed up at a benefit in Akron! That’s a good sign!”

“Crap, he went to a Yankees game. WE’RE DOOMED!”

And it’s been like this. All. Summer.

We’ve officially been turned into Chicken Littles. Boys crying wolf all over the place. I, for one, am tired of the talk. I don’t like limbo, and I’m especially not a fan of torture. In the words of Louis Jordan, ‘Is you is, or is you ain’t?’ And should I care one way or the other? Of course, like any good city dweller, I would want the current biggest name in sports history to stay and save us from ultimate demise and ridicule. And yet… are we destined to suffer for all eternity? Is that our legacy? Is victory and pride not only something we will never attain, but should never even try? EVER?

One Cleveland journalist for The Plain Dealer sums it up best. Satirically… but best.

Because I think I have a good thing going with these “Everything I Know In Life” moments, I’m going to keep them up. (Stop the presses, I’m experiencing follow-through)…

Everything I Know In Life I Learned From Romy & Michelle’s High School Reunion (1997)
- No matter how weird you were in high school, you will still be just as weird as an adult… and that’s alright.
- Never tell everyone you invented Post-Its. Unless you actually invented Post-Its.
- The person you thought you loved back then will not appeal to you ten years later.
- The popular girls will end up unpopular losers.
- Interpretive dance is the only way to go with Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time.
- There’s nothing wrong with walking the treadmill in open-toed platforms.
- Pretty Woman is the ultimate classic movie, no matter how unbelievable it is.
- Best friends are, like, so cool.
- Always be yourself.

Problem is I am neither of those things, even on a good day.

It has been said, time and again, that in my relationship with BFam, I am the man. Not because I wear pants, or anything quite as cliche. But because he is sensitive where I am not. He is thoughtful where I am not. He is sentimental where… so let’s just all agree I am a tool. Not on purpose but I could certainly stand some improvements.

In an effort to get in touch with my frugal and crafty side (the one that is non-existent), I found a few gems that sum up everything I wish I could buy, give, or say to express to my best friend of thirteen years how glad I am that he puts up with his tool of a wife long enough to make babies with…

This is Mooter. She would pop less than two weeks after this photo was taken. BFam was 12.

Not really but, gosh, he sure looks it.

Did I ever mention BFam is shorter than me by at least two and a half inches? He’s so comfortable in his gnomeness.

Or comfortable in my Amazonianess. Either way, he could care less.

Except when his wife is calling him a gnome.

Them’s fighting words.

I’ve never seen a man take to babies like him. Watch your youngins around him. One look away and he’s got them in his arms.

Someone in my family made the subliminal comment that they didn’t have any family photos of us and would like one very badly. BFam, ever the recluse, offered this up in exchange.

We don’t do subliminal real well where I’m from.

He’s a great tamer of toddlers. He just has that way about him. Either that or he threatened this one within an inch of her life. It’s always so hard to tell with those two.

This was a hot, hot, hot hot hot hot hot hot hot day. There was nothing left to do, really, but pass out on a couch.

Did I mention it was hot?

Sorry BFam. There’s no escaping the camera. How else will I have enough to use in creating my gifts when I can’t think of anything for you?!

To my baby daddy and all the other fathers out there. You all deserve much better signs of appreciation and affection than we give you.

A day late,
The Tin Man

Or cleats…

Or helmets…

Or social interactions?

When the height of their day was making it to the bathroom in enough time to avoid an accident?

Remember those days?

I want those days back.

This girl’s social calendar is more packed than mine.

And not just now. But ever. In my whole lifetime.

Do they have softball for old people?

Who am I kidding. Softball was never my thing. BO-RING. I don’t have the attention span or patience to sit around and wait. And wait. Can anyone say “Snoozefest”? Give me a basketball, a volleyball… heck, I’d even take a soccer ball.

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLL!

Sorry. Having a World Cup flashback.

Mooter’s at bat. YAY! Go Mooter, go!

Oh, OK. Now she’s on base. Is it over yet?

At least her hand-eye coordination is halfway decent.

Momma’s little jock.