It’s 1:42 am, and I’m supposed to be working. I was working. I will be working. But right now I’m completely distracted by an absolutely terrible movie that I love—Fools Rush In, starring Matthew Perry and Salma Hayek (interestingly, I just noticed that one of the accused soldiers from A Few Good Men plays a police officer who, toward the flick’s end, delvers the baby in the pouring rain on the highway). This is one of those cinematic classics that HBO plays 8,233 times per year, usually at hours when nobody is up. It’s uniquely terrible, in that it takes one bad actor (Perry) and one excellent actor (Hayek), makes a running joke of Gray’s Papaya, relentlessly mocks Mexican culture (Ha! The guy’s riding a donkey! Ha!) and ends happily.
Then again, I’m not sure why I’m babbling about this, considering everyone over the age of 20 has surely seen Fools Rush In at least five times.
Speaking of fools, how the hell doesn’t Charles Haley make the Pro Football Hall of Fame? Seriously. The man won five Super Bowl rings and was one of the dominant, game-changing pass rushers of his era. Yes, he wasn’t a wonderful person to deal with, but much of that has to be chalked up to his bi-polar diagnosis. To me, Haley was right there with Reggie White and Bruce Smith among the elites. A shame—especially when John Randle gets in so easily.
