Obviously an older writing, but as I'm planning a John Hughes film fest this week, I found it apropos.

So many people that I know were affected by the deaths of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett. The death of John Hughes hit me harder than either of those. A lot of people may think it's silly to mourn the loss of someone that you've never met. I don't feel that you need to have met someone for them to have had a huge impact on your life. For all of us queer, weirdos, dorks, geeks, outcasts, etc, books, movies, and music are sometimes the only escape we have from the shitty, confusing world we're faced with. We can find reflections of ourselves, people we yearn to be like, or the message that it's alright for us to be just who we are. That it may not always be easy, but it's true and beautiful. That's what I got out the "brat pack" films of John Hughes. The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, Pretty In Pink, Some Kind of Wonderful, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and Weird Science...they were such a massive part of my childhood and still hold an incredibly dear place in my heart. As a young, confused, weird queer kid in bumfuck Kansas, they were a beacon. They showed me that life wasn't always perfect or easy for the big city kids, the popular kids, or the beautiful kids, but that there was always hope. He may not have ever featured any gay teens, but his films still spoke to me as an outcast and someone that wanted to be loved and accepted, but on my own terms. People can be shit, you may not always get what or who you want, but that holding true to yourself is what matters the most. Amongst the nostalgia, the laughs, and the great movie quotes, that is why I mourn the loss of a man that I have never met...