It’s tough to say when I realized Heathers had such a profound effect on my adolescence. It might have been after the initial viewing. I dug around in our cobwebby garage to locate the family croquet set. I hosed it off, set it up in the yard, dragged my two brothers away from “The Legend of Zelda” for a bit; all this so I could declare, “I’m RED!” Few movies inspired such hope and fear in a 7th grader. Was this what I had to look forward to and, at the same time, fear as my high school education loomed? Would anyone get my time-honed references to “realistically lo-key notes” and understand my shameful affection for regurgitation? Hell, I remember heading straight to the library after about the 5th consecutive daily viewing to check out a copy of Moby Dick.
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