Judd Nelson made an indelible mark on Ally Sheedy before his actual audition began. “We were upstairs”, says Sheedy of herself, Ringwald, Hall, and Estevez. “We had all gotten cast except for Judd’d part. We were walking up to go to the office, and he was actually outside the building, hitting a ball against the wall. He is very graceful and beautiful,” says Sheedy, “and he is very dark. Not just in the way he looks, in the way he is. He has this complicated thing.” While throwing the tennins ball against the wall, waiting to be called into the audition room, Nelson was listening to music on his walkman, the music Bender would listen to, and he had the volume pumped up as loud as it would go. “I was listening to The Sex Pistols’s ‘Holiday in the Sun,’” remembers Nelson. “There was this little outdoor area where I am waiting to go in and read. I have a tennis ball and I am throwing it against the wall, with this thing blasting about as loud as it could go. Minding my own business. I get this tap—someone tells me, ‘You’ve gotta calm down.’” Interestingly, this interference actually helped Nelson get even more in touch with Bender’s anger. “I go, ‘What?!?” remembers Nelson. “He says, ‘You’re throwing this ball too loud,’ and I go, ‘WHAT?!! And I walk around a bit, and smoke a cigarette.” By the time Nelson walked into the audition room, he had completely inhabited Bender. “He was acting like he was that guy,” remembers Michelle Manning.
"Boy, these conservatives are really something, aren’t they? They’re all in favor of the unborn. They will do anything for the unborn. But once you’re born, you’re on your own. Pro-life conservatives are obsessed with the fetus from conception to nine months. After that, they don’t want to know about you. They don’t want to hear from you. No nothing. No neonatal care, no day care, no head start, no school lunch, no food stamps, no welfare, no nothing. If you’re preborn, you’re fine; if you’re preschool, you’re fucked." ~ George Carlin
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.