I’ve had a lot of downtime, and like chicken soup to the soul, I’ve been feeding the healing process with movies and celebrity gossip and pizza rolls. None of it particularly healthy, but soothing in the same way people on ecstasy like suckers.

Somewhere between Meatballs and Meatballs 2 I heard that Charlie Hunnam had dropped out of the Fifty Shades of Grey movie. I don’t really know who he is, and the last serious bout of diarrhea I had was from a Lean Cuisine Hunan Beef, so overall, I have plenty of non-feelings about the whole Charlie Hunnam thing.

But as I watched John Mengatti and Kim Richards bring disgrace to the entire Meatball franchise, something occurred to me.

The 80’s movies that I wrap around me like wool blankets from the dryer;  their teeth aren’t white, in fact, they’re barely straight. The bottom row all jumbled together and overlapping. Noses are big and disproportionate. And their boobs are either tiny and pointy or like two heavy melons straining the bands of their bra.

They aren’t unattainable. They look like the girls I go to P.F. Changs with when I find a babysitter or the guy who’s eyes I knowingly meet when the man in front of us at Target decides to apply for a Red Card.

Would-be Christian Gray, Charlie Hunnam, is 33 years old. The same age as Steve Martin when he made The Jerk.

The Real Christian Grey

I don’t know anyone who looks like Charlie Hunnam. I know five guys who look like Steve Martin.

The Trio

It’s not the veiny muscles or veneers that feel like home, it’s the flaws. It’s the scars and the back fat and the lisps.

When I was 13 I laid in bed and prayed for my perfectly straight teeth to bend like Jewel, because how could something with that much character not be extraordinary?

That obviously didn’t work out for me, aside from super gluing a Halloween fake vampire fang slightly askew to my incisor, the technology just wasn’t there in 1995. But the idea that had been planted by years of Monty Python and The Kids in the Hall, and sewed and watered by Phyllis Diller and Gilda Radner had begun to grow.

My Trio

Am I raising the next John Hughes, Bernadette Peters or Anthony Kiedis? For the sake of Fast & The Furious 14, I sure as hell hope so.

 

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