I'm Italy Mons and this is The Slowdown.

There are certain movies that have defined not just my youth, but my life.

Sometimes I think I am immune to pop culture or certain era-defining movements, and then

someone mentions, let's say, the exceptional classic dance film, Flash Dance.

And there I am, suddenly wearing my gray off the shoulder sweatshirt, my black lay warmers dancing

in the kitchen. Oh, and you can be certain. I'll be singing Irene Carras What A Feeling

at the top of my lungs. Any mention of Flash Dance and I'm a puddle of wicked nostalgia.

In fact, let's stop everything and watch it right now.

The same goes for so many of those iconic 80s films that defined a generation.

I don't know how many times my friends and I have said to each other,

you look good wearing my future. If you don't know, that's a line from some kind of wonderful.

A movie my best friend and I watch so often that once when she came back from seeing a play

on Broadway, she was completely wild-eyed, ecstatic, and asked, guess who sat in front of me?

Just guess. I saw by her face that it had to be could only have been Eric Stoltz.

Iconic characters and nostalgic soundtracks weave through the rickety card catalog of my mind

and silently influence all of my adult existence. For example, I still remember seeing

Pritian Pink in 1986 in the Sebastiani Theatre in my hometown of Sonoma, California.

I was 10 and in an awkward stage that would last another million years.

I couldn't imagine having a boyfriend or going to a high school dance or even going to high school.

That all seemed ages away, but I sunk into that movie like sinking into the most comfortable chair

I'd ever known. Before long, I knew that Blaine was a rich boy's name and that being from the

wrong side of town was hard no matter what town it was and that of Andrew McCarthy ever

...