Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Caroline's Epic Life Saga of Obsessions Edition I: KEVIN BACON

 Saga. n. (Norse origin). 1. A long story of heroic achievement. 2. A long, involved story, account, or series of incidents.
In a sentence: Caroline is going to share through a special Duds series accounting her own storied saga of incredibly unheroic achievement: Being embarrassingly obsessed with many things (to the point of madness) over the course of many, many years. These things include any or all of the following:
"actors, movies, books, TV shows, anything involving a movie with attractive people, then those actor-obsessee[s] (newly patented word**) within or out of popular culture, any movie that actor-obsessee has ever done, any book, it’s film adapation or Caroline’s fantasy film adaptation, the actors in book-obsessee film adaptation, which then leads to an obsession with said actors and any film/TV show appearance they have ever made,  then an obsession with another actor from another one of those movies"... and the vicious cycle continues.

**Obsessee. n. (Caroline origin). 1. The subject of another’s obsession.

These accounts will not be in chronological order, although they very well could be considering I can timeline the past 11 years of my life based solely on my obsessions for every single one of those years. No, we’re jumping a year into this saga to the year 2002. This is mostly because today’s Obsessee is currently back in the limelight with an awesome brand new series on FOX and has, to no fault of his own, caused an Obsession-Outbreak. Like herpes, my obsessions are incurable but can be treated. In my case, a treatment is just another obsession.
This brings us to the first edition. Kevin Bacon. 

Our story begins in a local Blockbuster in 2002, back when there was a very different Bennifer and actual Blockbusters. 

Like any Friday night in 7th grade, it’s spent scouring the aisles of blue VHS boxes, the new releases on DVD, and the heart-sinking disappointment when there is no blue box behind the movie case.

Instead of going for a new release, we--my sister, our best friend Kelsey, and I--decide to go for an older one. Several hours later (as one typically spends in a Blockbuster), we’ve come down to two: Rat Race (what?) and a little movie called FOOTLOOSE. 

For whatever reason, divine intervention I would say, we chose Footloose. 

IMPORTANT: At this point in my life, I had seen Footloose. My mother watched it every single time it was on TV (probably because she was actually alive when it came out in theaters, unlike myself), so I had watched it before-albeit sporadically-with no particular interest. 

Until this night.

Cut to a little over two hours later. The "Footloose" end credits are rolling on the TV screen, Kenny Loggins is still bumping, and the three of us are up off the couch dancing our butts off in the middle of the living room. 

I, like so many, was forever changed.

It was after this that "the guy I knew as Kevin Bacon" became "OMG KEEEEEVVVVIIIINNNN BAAAAAAACCCCCOOONNNN" and my brain instantly reprogrammed itself with a new filter, letting in only a few key words. Kevin and Bacon.

I spent hours googling him, saving Google Images to my personal WindowsXP desktop. 

I cried when I got the Footloose soundtrack and poured over my sketchbook, drawing a recreation of the album cover. 

I listened to every Bacon Brothers sound bite I could find on the internet because holy sh-- Kevin Bacon had a BAND.

I nearly peed when his epic guest role on Will & Grace rerun FINALLY aired again on the WB. 

I watched every SINGLE movie I could get my hands on that Kevin was in…which was particularly tricky without my mom finding out. Remember, there was no YouTube to find things like that back then.   
...Not to mention, a good 85.99% of Kevin’s resume is most definitely not appropriate for twelve year olds and my mom would have KILLED me if she learned I had watched Wild Things, Trapped, or Animal House in 7th grade. (oh, hey mom.)

In my defense, I watched the crap out of Balto. 
Saving small children from disease since 1995.

I even wrote a fan letter to Kevin that year. 

It’s true. 

I had learned somewhere on the Internet that if you professionally and politely request an autograph, you are more than guaranteed a response back. So I typed up my very formal, very business-like letter, found Kevin’s fan letter address, bought a stamp, and walked it to the mailbox myself. I think I obsessed over a reply for a good year afterwards. 

I never got a response. 

Kevin’s just been busy, I guess.
I'm still waiting, Kev.

I never miss anything Kevin does or has ever done. 

I cried my way through the Logitech commercial. I relate on such a deep level.

I’m an ace at Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. 

Oh, I can basically quote Tremors verbatim. And my car’s name is Rhonda.

I even saw Death Sentence. In theaters.

I suppose it wasn’t exactly normal for a 12 year old to be madly infatuated with a man who had children exactly my age and was, at the time, about 44 years old. But hey, he was in The Woodsman.

It's been ten years since that fateful night in Blockbuster. But what now?

Now, Kevin is on a new thriller TV show Monday nights on FOX, called, so very appropriately, “The Following” and he has never looked BETTER. 

He looks SO GOOD on this show. In fact, research shows that 1 in 3 women become pregnant after watching Kevin Bacon on The Following.

Where was this show 10 years ago when I needed it?!

Regardless, here's to you, Kevin. Just keep doing what you do. Keep dancing like a Circe de Soleil performer in that grey sweatsuit at an abandoned barn. Keep hunting down those graboids with a heavily-armed Reba, keep on kidnapping Dakota Fanning and holding Charlize hostage (watch the scalpel!), keep on staring disapprovingly at a little dog named Skip, and keep on playing a bunch of guys named Jack because I love you for it. I’ll just keep on following you like an aspiring serial killer forever.


And everyone needs to watch The Following: Monday nights 9/8c on FOX. It rocks.

Love you, Kevin Bacon. More than real bacon. (Seriously.)

Sincerely (and in case you need my signature for the restraining order), 

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