Talk at our adolescent-mortification-themed book club meeting (a whole 'nother story I'll fill in later) turns to John Hughes movies. One end of the couch is holding forth on both Pretty in Pink and The Breakfast Club, but I dismiss each as "too Messagey."
"Sixteen Candles, no question," I say. "It's the first one and the only one I can pretty much recite word-for-word."
At which point the newest book-club attendee, Kristin, turns to me and declares without preamble, "No, he's not retarded!"