Another Myth: The Murderous Drug Dealer
Some months ago, right before the pandemic hit, I was happily ensconced in my housing unit’s dayroom in front of the TV, and the old Spielberg classic ‘The Goonies’ came on. Now, this was a seminal movie that shaped much of my own childhood--I always wanted to be Data, and spent years afterwards crafting creaky ‘gadgets,’ which generally didn’t work--and I was excited, because I’d soon be headed home, and had been compiling a list of must-watch movies to share with my daughter. (Who better to introduce this youngster to the exciting world of '80s culture?) So, with an array of cell-made, local-commissary-sourced healthy snacks spread in front of me, I settled in to relive a little of my own childhood. I cheered at the cinematic opening chase scene, la ughed when Chunk squished his strawberry shake against the plate-glass window, watching the Fratellis speed by, hapless cops in pursuit. I cringed a little when the next scene came on, the one I’d forgotten (and maybe you ...