Why John Hughes is the Greatest Philosopher of the Late 20th Century

First, I’d like to make an observation. How important are philosophers, really? There are some that the “general public” knows about. There are some that have influenced culture, regardless of whether the “general public” realizes it. But, for the most part, philosophers go un-noticed. Even the “great” ones. Shouldn’t the “great” ones be the ones that influence society? Shouldn’t society recognize it?

Let’s put religious leaders aside. Everyone knows that Jesus, the Buddha, Mohammed, Gandhi, and Mother Theresa have had a great influence. Let’s talk about philosophers. Ask the average person on the street about Pascal’s Wager or Cartesian Logic or Plato’s Forms. Some have influenced society without society knowing it. Augustine's view that the earthly body is inherently inferior to the soul has plagued the Christian Church to this day. The Transcendalitsts of New England have been taken the the extreme in an effor to block progress. However, those two are issues for another entry.

In juxtaposition, ask the "general public" about The Force or The Ring or John Cusack holding up a boom box playing a Peter Cetera song.

The members of the Breakfast Club had a great knack for pointing out hypocrisy. They saw how their “elders” and their parents acted hypocritically. Hughes tapped into this, much in the same manner that Salinger had a feel for the youth of his decade. I don’t know if Hughes hung out in soda shops like Salinger did, but, nonetheless, he had a bead on the teenage culture of the time.

His films should have been required viewing for the “adults” of the 1980s. He pointed out their flaws. He pointed out the hypocrisy. Oddly enough, the hypocrites didn’t listen.

When I was growing up, the youth were considered the great “truth detectors.” Kids had an innate sense of fairness that could put adults to shame. Sure, the kids didn’t understand the “intricacies” of adult life, but, like Jesus teaches, one needs to be able to view the world through the eyes of a child.

There’s always been some validity to the children’s cries of hypocrisy. Ask yourself this: although you consider extra-marital sex wrong, you probably consider it “more wrong” for a sixteen-year-old than a thirty-five-year-old. Truth be told, the older person is likely more equipped for the consequences (good and bad) and more likely to be responsible. However, when you’re sixteen, all you see is the hypocrisy. When you have your girlfriend/ boyfriend sleep over, what are you telling your child?

So, what children were taught is that it’s okay to segment your life. To lead double, triple, and quadruple lives. The younger generations have learned that segmentation is okay from the older generations. For example, the kid does well in school, has extra-curricular activities, goes to church (or temple or whatever), and on Friday night has sex with whomever and drinks like a fish. It’s all compatible when it’s all segmented. Hypocrisy has gone by the wayside.

John Hughes pointed this out, but the adults didn’t listen. Instead, the children listened, and they came to this conclusion: “Fuck you, I’m going to do it, too.”

Back in the day, kids used to watch movies to see adults having sex. Now, adults watch movies to see kids having sex.

It is not okay. When one wears more than one mask, that person often becomes confused as to his/ her true self. What role am I playing today? And what message it that sending?

It can be difficult to stay honest with yourself, but if you look at your children, it can be a lot easier.

What's in a Name?

Now that we know we're having a girl, we need to pick a name. Here's what is in the running so far. We're not set on any of these, so things may change and suggestions are appreciated.

First Names:
Julia
Abigail
Tara

Middle Names:
Michelle
Christine
Rose

My wife likes Julia. She thinks that it is a powerful and classic name. It means "youthful" and is a classically Roman name.

My son likes Abigail. He really likes "Abby." He has already named the baby "Abby" after the character in his favorite movie, Chicken Little. Abigail mean's "father's joy." I was Grammy Kelly's first grandson, and she called me her "Pride and Joy." As some of you may know from my SW blog, she died 8 days before we found out we were having a girl. She had 2 sons, 6 grandsons, and 2 great-grandsons, and she was very much hoping for a girl in the Kelly family.

I like Tara. Tara is the hill in Ireland from which the King of Kings reigned. It is also the site of some of St. Patrick's most famous sermons -- allegedly. Before you say, "But it has different pronunciations and that will make things difficult for your daughter" I have a question for you. Pronounce this word: "T-A-R" Now, add a short "a" to the end of it. No problems.

Michelle is the feminine of my middle name. If we named her Julia Michelle Kelly, her initials would be the same as mine and my son's. When I was born, there were no ultrasound machines, and my "girl name" would have been Leia Michelle. My sister-in-law, though, is already Leah.

Christine is a family name from my wife's side of the family (and her middle name). If we named her Abigail Christine Kelly, her initials would be the same as my wife's.

Rose is my grandmother's middle name. As discussed above, she was hoping for a girl.

I'd appreciate any input.

In Requiem: Teresa R. Kelly; December 12, 1914 to August 17, 2006

My grandmother came into the world a “Kraus” (an Austrian) but she has the soul of an Irish bard. I suspect that she is descended from the White Martyrs of the early medieval period. When she traveled to Ireland, she scoffed at the Blarney Stone, claiming that it was unsanitary and difficult to reach. For those of us who knew her, we know she had no need for the Stone’s purported gifts.

I recall sitting at her feet, fascinated by her stories. Only later did I realize they were the same stories over and over again. Only after that did I realize my misgivings were misplaced. You see, historical accuracy and facts do not drive a good story. Truth drives a good story. The two are not always the same.

The “gift of gab” is truly a gift because it has several unique features. First, the gift gives the storyteller an intense passion for her story. This gift allows the listener to be enthralled by the strength and personality of the storyteller. Next, the gift gives the storyteller a vibrancy that ensnares the audience. Then, the gift provides the storyteller a love for her story. Finally, the gift gives the story itself meaning and resonance for the audience.

Now is the time for a few stories. First, I will tell you my story about her. Next, I will tell you two of Grammy Kelly’s stories.

After the Kellys return from Ireland, Grandpa and Grammy were in Phoenix for Christmas. For as long as I can remember, we have had a Christmas Eve party at my Aunt Marsha’s and Uncle Carl’s house. While there, she was regaling us with her stories of Ireland. As you may imagine, she had quite a few to tell. One of those stories was the Blarney Stone story I related above. Another was about a competing bard on the journey.

This was a church-organized trip, so several other parishioners were in the group. One lady had, apparently, kissed the Blarney Stone several times. When Teresa complained that the woman talked too much, Aunt Marsh fell out of her chair – literally, I think she still limps today because of it. The truth in this story? There’s always a bigger fish in the sea, I suppose.

Let me relate one story she told about my dad. One evening while in college, my dad was sitting on the porch talking to one of his buddies. My grandmother was eavesdropping. My dad, being a fraternity prankster, was probably building up some liquid courage to unleash a goat into the botanical gardens; or, maybe, he was getting ready to add an “F” to the sign out in front of the “Fine Arts” building. In any event, she does not remember that part of his conversation.

She remembers him talking about his parents. He told his friend that, one day, he wanted to have a house like his parents and a family like his. At the risk of sounding immodest, he does have a great family and some great children. I think he probably did receive that which he sought.

Dad is retired now, after working for over 50 years. He still tells us the story of the TV Guide route he had at age 10. He, too, told us a lot of stories. This is a subject for another day, but I think he inherited his mother’s ability to exaggerate. He used to tell us about how he trudged along to school in the snow, raced home to eat lunch, then raced back to school. What he didn’t tell us was that his childhood house was about 1/10 of a mile away. We only learned that by visiting his old neighborhood.

The truth in this story (regardless of whether it's accurate) is that my grandparents set a great example for my father. Through their example, I reaped the rewards of loving parents and a stable home. Through their example, my father learned the values of hard work, loyalty, honesty, and family.

She told another story about my Uncle Dennis. She was always impressed with how studious Dennis could be. She told me that, when he was writing his dissertations (yes, plural), she would stay up all night with him, providing him food and drink to sustain his activities. In my mind’s eye, she would literally slip food and water underneath the crack in the door to keep Dennis nourished.

Uncle Dennis did pass the bar and practice as a lawyer, but I’m not sure he engaged in writing and studying until 5 am on a regular basis. I could be wrong, I suppose. Maybe law school has become a lot easier since his day.

The truth of the story is that Uncle Dennis, like my dad, also inherited strong values from his parents. The truth is that my grandmother would stay up all night, making sure all of her children’s needs were taken care of so that they could accomplish their goals. I do not doubt for a minute that she made sure Dad and Uncle Dennis were able to complete their studies with minimal distraction.

What I will remember most about her, though, is Grandpa Kelly. He loved that woman with an intensity and ferocity that cannot be explained with mere words. They married a little bit young (about 22 years old) and stayed deeply in love throughout their marriage. Above all, they truly were an example of unconditional love and great role models for their children and grandchildren. We are taught that a husband’s love for his bride is (or, at least, should be) an earthly manifestation of God’s love for us. If their love is similar to God’s love, we are all in very good hands.

In January of 1998, Grandpa Kelly died. Now the two have been reunited.

When I sat in their house a few days ago, it was quiet. It was empty. They were both gone. It was merely a shell, and nobody lived there. I thought I would be upset that the house would be sold to someone else. They had lived in this house for nearly 50 years, and I had visited several times on my trips to Lexington. I was not upset. I am not upset. I was, however, taken aback by the lack of life in the house – very different from my past trips.

No one lives in that earthly house anymore. From now on, George and Teresa Kelly live in the House of the Lord.

Kelly's Tavern is Now Open

Here's my first post -- a picture of the actual Kelly's Tavern. I've entered a contest on Guinness.com to win a Guinness bar in my house. I think the winner will be picked by mid-September. Keep your fingers crossed!